Metaphysics
Years ago, City A passed a groundbreaking new Marriage Law, legalizing same-sex marriage, eliminating the mandatory cooling-off period for divorce, and dramatically simplifying the marriage and divorce process.
Over time, in City A, getting married—or divorced—became as routine as having a meal. It wasn’t uncommon to see people on the street who had been engaged five or six times.
If you had to compare, marriage now was basically what “dating” used to be.
Back when Gu Yilan was a child, the Gu family arranged many political marriages for him. At one point, he had multiple “fiancees” all at once.
Later, they were all scared away by his cold and menacing personality—
All except for one: Su Zesui.
To Gu Yilan, terms like “fiance” or “fiancee” were nothing more than empty labels—troublesome pronouns that carried no emotional weight.
But now, suddenly, he saw that word pop up in a WeChat message from the boy—
It was one of the reasons Su Zesui wanted to marry him.
…It was hard to describe what Gu Yilan felt in that moment.
It was like someone had scratched at the softest part of his heart with a claw—numbing and tingling all at once, with a strange bitterness underneath. He couldn’t quite trace the origin of this emotion.
He pressed his tongue against the roof of his mouth. Sharp teeth grazed the inside of his cheek. His grip on the glass in his hand unconsciously tightened, knuckles turning white.
After a long while, he tilted his head back and downed the cold water in one go, washing away the taste of blood—Then started typing.
[。: I can give you what you want. But after that, you must believe everything I say—without question.]
In the room next door, Su Zesui had already figured out how the recorder worked. Just as he opened his phone to start drafting his recording, the message came in.
He read it with wide, sparkling eyes, then quickly typed back:
[(o^^o): Mm-hmm!]
[。: He has an overwhelming sense of possession. To the point of being a control freak. Not a good man.]
[(o^^o): Mm-hmm!]
[。: ……]
[。: If you told him, “I’ll never leave you, not even in death,” he wouldn’t find it strange at all. He’d probably just sneer and say, “Good.”]
Su Zesui instantly started typing, urgently:
[(o^^o): And then will he let me see his Moments?]
[。: …………]
[。: Mm.]
[(o^^o): Okay! Thank you bunny−waving.jpg]
Believe in the power of metaphysics! Time to prepare.
Su Zesui closed WeChat and went straight to Ahoo to search for “emotionally intelligent phrases.”
Third tip to increase favorability—say interesting things, be a considerate partner.
How fun your words are determines how attractive you can be. With good communication, even your casual conversations can sparkle. One day, the person who marries you will bask in your wit and charm.
Understand, applause please!
Su Zesui, the socially anxious boy who never knew how to talk, believed it wholeheartedly.
Due to a mild language disorder, he spent the whole evening struggling to record the perfect take.
Before bed, the butler brought him the handcuff key so he could change clothes.
Su Zesui went to bed full of confidence, clutching the recorder—
And had a dreamless night.
. . . . .
The next morning, he got up right on time. He used the key to unlock the handcuffs, slipped on his slippers, grabbed the recorder, and ran with light footsteps to wait outside Gu Yilan’s bedroom.
Before long, the door opened from inside.
A wave of masculine, aggressive energy rushed out. Su Zesui clutched the recorder tightly and looked up.
Water droplets still clung to Gu Yilan’s bangs. They slid down the sharp angles of his perfect face, softening the sharp lines before finally soaking into his shirt collar.
He had clearly just washed up. Upon seeing Su Zesui, his steps paused briefly.
The boy quickly held out the recorder and handcuff key with both hands.
Gu Yilan accepted them with one hand, slipping them into his pocket. His sharp eyes scanned the boy’s face before he turned to head downstairs.
But Su Zesui remained standing at the door, tilting his soft, flushed face upward. His bright eyes reflected the man’s tall figure as he said in a gentle voice: “Listen.”
A few tufts of messy hair on top of his head wobbled as he spoke—it was obvious he had rushed over without even brushing his hair.
Gu Yilan raised an eyebrow slightly. He rolled the recorder between his fingers, then—under the boy’s hopeful gaze—pressed the top button.
A few seconds later, Su Zesui’s slightly unnatural voice played from the recorder:
“Ahem, today is a beautiful and sunny day.
At 6:40 AM, the morning sun was warm, and the spring breeze was gentle. I woke up happy, which seriously violated the schedule.
Looking back on the situation, I realized the root causes of my mistake were: lack of responsibility, poor time management, and ineffective communication. I deeply regret these issues…”
In the recording, his speech was surprisingly fluent, but his tone was incredibly stiff. His intonation rose and fell in all the wrong places. Even the “ahem” at the beginning sounded less like clearing his throat and more like reciting a textbook.
Like a primary school student struggling to read a difficult passage—or a robot trying to imitate human speech.
Su Zesui nervously pinched his fingers. It felt like he was having his homework reviewed by the scariest teacher in school.
He had, indeed, written a full script and rehearsed it many, many times.
Gu Yilan continued listening—
“I crouched on the stairs and eavesdropped on the people talking in the living room. Mr. Gu was amazing—he chased the bad guys out of the villa.
I played a cute little puppy, and Mr. Gu loved it, couldn’t stop tending to my wounds.
I accidentally fell on the stairs, and Mr. Gu caught me and comforted me so gently…”
Gu Yilan: “……”
Right at that moment, the butler happened to walk by. He had come, as usual, to help Young Master Gu organize some documents—Only to catch that particular part of the recording.
His entire face instantly filled with question marks: ???
Even after working in this house for so many years, he had to doubt himself for a second—
There was only one person in this house with the surname Gu, right?
And only one person people respectfully referred to as “Mr. Gu,” right?
“Mr. Gu chained me to the bedpost in the bedroom, and I was really happy.
He doesn’t allow me to speak to anyone else, and I’m totally content.
Mr. Gu said I’ll never escape his control, ever again.
I won’t leave Mr. Gu—not in this lifetime, not even in death.”
Gu Yilan: “……”
A short daily summary somehow managed to sound like a mix of a confession, a flattery letter, and a deeply twisted submissive monologue.
A work of strange genius.
The recording cut off there.
Gu Yilan’s jawline tensed slightly. He was certain of one thing—he would never listen to that a second time.
He tossed the recorder back to the boy, his tone indifferent: “Do it again today.”
Su Zesui accepted it with both hands, but didn’t respond right away. Instead, he looked up at Gu Yilan with hopeful, sparkling eyes—like the man had forgotten something.
Against his will, under that wide-eyed, guileless gaze, one sentence from the recording suddenly echoed in Gu Yilan’s mind—
“I won’t leave Mr. Gu—not in this lifetime, not even in death.”
Such an unsettling, obsessive phrase—
And yet, coming from this boy’s voice, it didn’t sound creepy at all. It even felt… natural. Not even out of place.
There are two types of attacks hardest to guard against—
One is so fast you can’t react.
The other is so slow you forget to guard.
Gu Yilan stared into those innocent eyes for a long moment, then finally parted his lips and said coolly: “…Good.”
As the words fell, Su Zesui’s ears turned red, and his eyes curved into delighted crescents. His whole body radiated happiness.
But before he could enjoy it for long, the man above him added:
“The recording is just the start. Once we’re married, I’m going to keep you with me at all times. Where I go—you go.”
Gu Yilan’s voice was lazy, but laced with a cold edge—like a wolf who knew it could afford to speak softly because its teeth were always close.
Su Zesui flinched.
He looked up at Gu Yilan, who was constantly out and about, then thought about himself—someone who barely dared to step outside his room.
The joy in his eyes slowly gave way to fear and unease.
Gu Yilan’s gaze locked onto the boy’s face.
He caught every shift in emotion with chilling precision.
Narrowing his eyes slightly, he pressed his lips together and, finally, showed mercy: “Go back.”
Su Zesui turned and ran, even his back looked panicked.
Gu Yilan watched him flee, then slowly pulled out his phone.
At first, he’d casually set Su Zesui’s WeChat to “Chat Only.” But now, to boost his “online credibility,” he opened up his Moments to him.
. . . . .
Back in his bedroom, Su Zesui shut the door behind him, heart pounding wildly.
He felt anxious about having stepped outside—
But the thought of being able to see Gu Yilan’s Moments made him feel better.
He was good at forgetting bad things. And besides, that other part was way in the future.
So soon, the anxiety was entirely replaced by excitement.
Su Zesui sat back down on his bed, handcuffed himself to the bedpost again, and tried to calm his racing heart.
But even after a while, he couldn’t relax—So he went to freshen up, then ate the breakfast that had been delivered.
Finally, once his emotions had stabilized a little, he carefully opened his phone and tapped into Gu Yilan’s WeChat profile.
Sure enough—his Moments were open.
And there was even a photo posted just a few days ago!
Su Zesui’s eyes curved with joy as he hugged his phone and flopped onto his soft bed, his straight little legs swinging with excitement.
Thank the great power of metaphysics!
He hadn’t forgotten the original goal of viewing Gu Yilan’s Moments—
Step One in boosting favorability: Leave special comments on his posts.
He puffed up his fair cheeks, mentally reviewing all the “emotionally intelligent phrases” he had saved the night before.
After a deep breath, he poked at the screen and tapped open Gu Yilan’s only post.
And then… his vision went black.
The image was white text on a black background, a full English paragraph followed by several sprawling, convoluted physics equations.
The letters and formulas tangled together like a dark spell. It looked evil.
Su Zesui barely knew any English.
So, just like the emperor who died before completing his great mission—
He stared wide-eyed at the cryptic letters for a few seconds, admitted defeat, and promptly saved the image.
Then sent it to his brother.
[(o^^o): Brother, how do I read this? [image]]
A few minutes later, Su Mingyu replied—
[Big Brother: Didn’t I tell you I went home to inherit the family business right after undergrad?]
Su Zesui: …
Since his brother was clearly no help, Su Zesui had no choice but to turn to the internet, downloading a bunch of translation apps.
Unfortunately, the image was filled with physics jargon. The resulting translations were completely absurd, like: “Spaghetti mixed with No.42 concrete because of the screw length.”
Just as Su Zesui was scratching his black hair into messy tufts in frustration, his phone buzzed—
[。:.]
The other person sent over a period as cold and indifferent as their username, but to Su Zesui at that moment, it felt like a lifeline.
He quickly responded:
[(o^^o): Mmhm]
[。: ?]
Su Zesui scrolled through the chat history, trying to guess why the other person might be messaging him. After a moment of realization, he quickly typed:
[(o^^o): Your method worked! [bunny bowing.jpg]]
[。: So?]
Su Zesui blinked, scrolled up again, and suddenly understood.
[(o^^o): I’ll do whatever you say from now on, Uncle.]
The typing indicator had been blinking non-stop—clearly the other person had something to say. But that one word, “Uncle,” made the chat fall completely silent for a full minute.
Taking advantage of the pause, Su Zesui quickly typed before the other person could reply:
[(o^^o): Uncle, can you help me find a good translation app?]
[(o^^o): One that can translate physics terms.]
[。: ?]
[(o^^o): Please, please~ [bunny bowing.jpg]]
[。: …]
Every time this person sent punctuation, his phone notification would show three strange symbols. It was weird.
[。: DeepL Translator, Linguee, Physics Dictionary. Try them.]
Since he was slow at wording things properly, Su Zesui had the habit of pre-typing replies in the message box, so his replies could look instant—like a normal person.
So, as soon as the message came through, he sent—
[(o^^o): Thanks, Uncle. I’m off to study!]
He was very determined—and extra motivated now—so he closed WeChat and threw himself into the translation apps, trying to crack the difficult text and achieve his goal of “making a special impression in someone’s circle of friends.”
Unfortunately, any paper shared by Gu Yilan was bound to be incredibly obscure and complex.
Su Zesui buried himself in the task, working from the break of dawn to high noon, from DeepL Translator to Physics Dictionary, yet he still hadn’t made much progress.
Then his phone buzzed again—it was a message from the butler:
[AAA Butler: Little Master, what are you doing now?]
[(o^^o): Studying.]
[AAA Butler: Studying what?]
The butler was just making small talk, trying to smoothly transition into inviting the boy to take a break.
But Su Zesui never picked up on hints.
He thought for a moment, then seriously typed back—
[(o^^o): Studying English.]
[AAA Butler: ???]
…What the heck?
[AAA Butler: Aren’t you tired, Little Master? Want to come down and play for a bit?]
[(o^^o): There are people downstairs.]
[AAA Butler: Who? It’s just me.]
[AAA Butler: Young Master Gu is coming back for lunch soon. Don’t you want to marry Young Master Gu? Want to come down and cook something for him? Win his heart through his stomach.]
Su Zesui blinked his thick, inky lashes—tempted.
Cooking for someone when they’re hungry… that fit perfectly with the second method of raising affection: “Showing up to help when he’s in need.”
He thought none of the three affection strategies would work—but suddenly, the tide had turned, and all three were going smoothly!
People on the Internet really are geniuses!
Su Zesui replied with a simple: “Okay.”
The butler, having received the green light, sprang into action. Step one: dismiss the cleaning staff on the first floor. Step two: go upstairs and unlock Su Zesui’s handcuffs. Step three: bring out the pre-prepped ingredients.
Everything moved swiftly and efficiently.
Then Su Zesui remembered—
He didn’t know how to cook.
The butler: …
In the end, the two cooking novices found a random recipe online and decided to give it a shot. Desperate times called for desperate measures. They chose the simplest dish: tomato egg soup.
“Little Master,” the butler said, seizing the opportunity to slip in a few words of advice while chopping, “Young Master Gu has his reasons for not wanting to marry you. Don’t blame him… but don’t give up either.”
But Su Zesui was laser-focused and didn’t hear a word. He mumbled to himself under his breath: “Add a pinch of salt…”
“And remember boundaries. Always have a safe word.”
“Bring to a boil… then simmer on low heat.”
. . . . .
Fifteen minutes later, a steaming bowl of tomato egg soup was finally ready.
Su Zesui had a great memory—he hadn’t forgotten the second item on the list: “Be there when he’s in trouble.”
No trouble? Then he’d just have to create some.
So, he quietly took all the cold drinks and bottled water out of the fridge and hid them in a cabinet in the dining room.
“You’re so clever, little master,” the butler said with a smile, helping him carry the bottles. He even emptied the teapot of the room-temperature water while walking past the dining table.
Just as the two finished tidying up, Gu Yilan arrived home—perfectly on time.
“What are you doing down here?” Gu Yilan gave the boy a brief glance and walked into the dining room, heading straight to the fridge out of habit.
Then he saw it—completely empty, as if ransacked by a very thirsty ghost.
Gu Yilan: “……”
Butler: “Little master was feeling stuffy upstairs, so I let him come down for a bit.”
Standing to the side, Su Zesui obediently offered, “Have some soup.”
Gu Yilan’s thin lips pressed into a hard line. He shut the fridge with a loud thud, his voice unreadable. “Fine.”
The butler, receiving the signal, quickly brought over the tomato egg soup from the kitchen and placed it in the center of the table, serving both his boss and the little master.
As they waited, Gu Yilan glanced at his phone, then raised his eyes toward Su Zesui.
“You’re nervous,” he said.
His tone was flat and calm, but his naturally cold voice, paired with the ominous and twisted undertone of the words, sent a chill down the spine.
He had been watching Su Zesui’s heart rate.
The boy had never taken off his heart rate monitor, and Gu Yilan had rarely paid much attention to it before—too busy, and it hadn’t seemed necessary.
But now that he had decided to take a harder stance, it was time to use every tool available—whether out in the open or behind the scenes.
Su Zesui paused, then placed his little hand over his chest.
It was racing.
No wonder… he’d been feeling short of breath.
Just then, the butler finished serving the soup and set the bowls in front of both the boss and the little master.
Gu Yilan watched Su Zesui’s expression as he took a sip.
Then, without a word, he froze—his lips instantly pressed together. He set down the spoon with a blank expression and instinctively reached for his glass.
Only to discover that the glass—and the teapot—were just as empty as the fridge.
Gu Yilan clinked the empty cup onto the table and looked up at the boy. “You made the soup?”
Su Zesui’s ears turned red, and he nodded a little shyly.
Gu Yilan asked, “Has anyone ever told you your cooking is good?”
Faced with the saltier-than-the-sea soup, he fully expected the boy to say “no.”
He had already prepared his own comeback—“Then why do you still cook?”
But instead, Su Zesui started seriously counting on his fingers, “Dad, Mom, my brother… and Uncle Butler.”
Gu Yilan: “……”
Gu Yilan: “You’re banned from the kitchen from now on.”
Su Zesui double-checked his fingers. “Okay.”
Luckily, aside from the tomato egg soup, the rest of the dishes had been prepared earlier by the housekeeper and were at least edible.
Gu Yilan seemed especially busy that day. As soon as he finished lunch, he got up to leave again.
Su Zesui was still happily swinging his legs as he ate, but when he saw this, he quickly put down his chopsticks, hopped off the chair, and chased after him.
He reached the entryway just as Gu Yilan opened the door.
In that moment, the world outside came into view, and Su Zesui froze, his breath catching in his throat.
His chest tightened, and he couldn’t speak. So he quickly pulled out his phone and typed as fast as he could—
[(o^^o): Where are you going?]
After sending it, he looked up at the man and pointed at his phone to indicate he should check it.
Gu Yilan frowned slightly, glanced at the vibrating phone, and typed back:
[11th Dimension]: School.
Su Zesui thought for a moment. Maybe he was heading to the lab for research. Considering he had studied physics before transmigrating, maybe—just maybe—he could help out.
That would count as “appearing right when he’s in trouble,” wouldn’t it?
He nodded thoughtfully and began typing again.
[(o^^o): What are you researching? (confused bunny.jpg)]
[11th Dimension: AdS/CFT duality and quantum field theory in curved spacetime.]
Su Zesui’s lips parted slightly as his fingers hovered in the air for a long moment.
Finally, he pasted a message he’d saved in his favorites and sent it.
Gu Yilan’s phone buzzed again. He lowered his gaze, curious what the boy had sent this time—
[(o^^o): Time always flies when I’m with you! Bye, my dear friend! Come home early!]
When he looked up, the boy was timidly waving at him, lips pressed together shyly, eyes filled with bashful sincerity.
Gu Yilan: “……”
Ever since the pupppy chpt I’ve been so worried for him. If this was a hentai he`d be in for a bad ending. I`m so anxious lol. Anyway, thanks for the translation!
LMAOOO they are so funny