Circus of Horrors (7)
Chen Li was practically sitting on his abdomen.
Feeling the boy’s soft body, the beast tamer fell silent.
Chen Li stared in disbelief, eyes wide: “You… zoned out?!”
He was so furious that even his voice rose at the end.
The beast tamer responded with a face full of sincerity, “No.”
Looking like a little kitten baring its claws, he somehow looked even cuter. The beast tamer felt like he was about to lose control…
Chen Li pressed his lips together and reached out toward the mask himself, clearly nervous. His other hand tried to hold the man down, pressing against his chest.
His hand was so soft, his strength so gentle…
The beast tamer inevitably drifted off again.
He had no intention of stopping him. Instead, he let his little lamb take the mask—completely indulging him.
The mask felt like jade, its icy chill pressing into Chen Li’s fingertips. Without hesitation, he removed it from the man’s face.
And when his whole face was finally revealed, those inky black eyes began to change.
It was as if moonlight had been poured into them—cool silver-gray spreading outward from the center until it flooded the entire iris. The mysterious silver eyes, once saying “keep out,” now showed their true form.
The man blinked: “Sorry.”
His voice had changed too—still rich, but now tinged with a deeper, magnetic resonance. It was a subtle shift, almost imperceptible, yet it made him seem like a completely different person.
It was a face and a voice burned into memory. Chen Li’s mind went blank for a moment. He wasn’t even sure what kind of emotion he had when he said those three words: “Fu Moyang.”
Fu Moyang’s expression softened: “Yeah, I’m here.”
“So it was you from the start,” Chen Li said, almost incoherent. “You did it on purpose—tricked me, watched me make a fool of myself.”
The shower… the princess carry… it was all him.
Things that Chen Li had almost stopped caring about suddenly felt twice as embarrassing now that the person behind it all had changed.
His ears burned. He didn’t even feel like they belonged to him anymore.
That was going too far.
Fu Moyang sat up, placing a hand on Chen Li’s waist. They shifted positions slightly, still tangled in an intimate embrace. Leaning in close to his ear, Fu Moyang whispered, “Isn’t it better that only I saw you like that?”
Or… would you rather be bullied by someone else?
His gaze darkened.
The overwhelming dominance in his presence wrapped tightly around Chen Li, making him feel a little lightheaded.
“Only you?” he murmured.
“Mm-hmm,” Fu Moyang coaxed softly. “Only I know how special you are.”
It did seem safer that way. The more people who knew he was a human NPC, the more danger he’d be in.
The poor little lamb had been completely led astray. He went along with Fu Moyang’s logic, totally forgetting that his original intention was to confront him about the deception.
Fu Moyang gently brushed the corner of his eye. “Don’t be mad anymore, okay?”
His tone, unusually gentle, wasn’t weakness—it was the calculated move of a cunning hunter lulling his soft-hearted prey into dropping its guard.
Chen Li: “I’m not mad.”
Why would he be? That mask was obviously just a prop. Fu Moyang was no ordinary person—he was the top player on the leaderboard. With his level of recognition, trying to hide his identity made perfect sense.
That’s how Chen Li managed to convince himself.
But he still felt a little sour inside. He didn’t want to look at him, almost like a child pouting in protest.
This time, it was Fu Moyang who looked startled. His tone was uncertain: “You’re really not mad?”
If he wasn’t mad… didn’t that mean he didn’t care?
Fu Moyang would rather face an angry little lamb than one who was indifferent.
He asked again, more forcefully, “You’re really not mad?”
Looking at this inexplicably sulky man, Chen Li found him impossible to reason with. He started trying to wriggle out of the embrace.
Fu Moyang pretended to let go, but just as Chen Li was about to get up, he pulled him back—and they both tumbled onto the bed, staring at each other, face to face.
Chen Li frowned: “What exactly are you trying to do?”
Fu Moyang didn’t answer directly. His tone suddenly turned serious: “Do you remember the last instance?”
The shift in mood made Chen Li tense up: “W-What about it?”
“You still owe me two favors,” Fu Moyang said, unable to hide the smirk tugging at his lips.
Chen Li felt like even his breathing had fallen half a beat behind: “What… do you want?”
Fu Moyang’s lips curled fully into a smirk: “I want you to sleep with me.”
Chen Li seriously began to wonder if something was wrong with his ears. So he asked again, just to be sure: “What did you say?”
Fu Moyang repeated clearly, enunciating each word: “S-l-e-e-p w-i-t-h m-e.”
Had he grabbed the man’s brain instead of his mask earlier?
Chen Li didn’t even notice how much his mindset had shifted ever since discovering Fu Moyang’s true identity.
He no longer saw him as a dangerous presence he needed to guard against.
Somewhere deep down, he had started believing—subconsciously—that this man wouldn’t hurt him.
Though he was absolutely the worst.
Angrily, Chen Li tried to push him away: “No way.”
“You’re going back on your word?” Fu Moyang’s silver eyes locked tightly onto him. Before Chen Li could even respond, he took matters into his own hands—lifting the blanket and expertly wrapping Chen Li up like a little bread roll.
The little bread roll attempted a protest.
It failed miserably. Fu Moyang suppressed him without mercy.
He even patted him on the head: “Go to sleep.”
Chen Li kept his dark eyes wide open, watching him warily for a while. In the end, he realized the man really just wanted to sleep beside him—nothing more.
Just like in the last dungeon, Fu Moyang had refused to share a room with the other players and insisted on bunking with him, the NPC. Was there some deeper reason? Had he stopped trusting the other players altogether?
Inside Chen Li’s mind, System 001 silently screamed: He’s a liar! He’s eroding your will step by step!
Unfortunately, Chen Li and his system didn’t quite share a telepathic bond.
He thought to himself: I agreed to this. I shouldn’t back out now. Besides, it’s just sleeping. We’re both guys. Nothing weird about it.
So, after playing out a whole drama in his head, the little bread roll gradually calmed down and stopped resisting.
Wrapped in a soft blanket, surrounded by a strangely comforting presence, sleep came quickly.
Once Chen Li fell into a deep slumber, a pair of silver-gray eyes slowly opened in the dark. The round pupils narrowed sharply into slitted ones—cold and fierce—yet the moment they fell on Chen Li, their gaze softened.
His little lamb—so obedient—completely unaware of the kind of world he was stepping into, step by step.
Fu Moyang could’ve taken him quickly—kissed him, touched him, watched those round eyes well up with tears, owned every tremble of his fear and uncertainty.
But he chose another way—something gentler.
He hid away all his fangs and thorns, dropping breadcrumbs one by one, watching this sweet little dessert follow the trail he laid, walking straight into the embrace he had so carefully prepared.
By the time he realized it, there would be no way out.
Fu Moyang reached out, as if unwrapping a piece of candy, and gently pulled the boy from the blankets into his arms.
System 001: Shameless! Absolutely shameless!
. . . . .
Sunlight streamed through the canopy of the bed.
“Mm…” Chen Li opened his eyes, lifting a hand to rub them—only to freeze at the unfamiliar feeling under his palm.
He’d spent the entire night curled up in Fu Moyang’s arms?
He was instantly wide awake.
“Morning,” Fu Moyang greeted, eyes clear and bright.
The freshly woken little lamb was even cuter.
“Y-You and I…” Chen Li stammered, completely tangled in his own words.
Fu Moyang’s expression lit up with sudden realization: “You rolled over in your sleep last night and kicked off the blanket. That’s how you ended up in my arms.”
“You’re lying. I never kick off my blanket when I sleep,” Chen Li said suspiciously.
Fu Moyang looked completely sincere: “But not only did you kick it off, you also talked in your sleep.”
His face was so earnest—anyone looking at him would believe him without question.
Sure enough, Chen Li began to waver. He’d never shared a bed with anyone before… What if it was true?
He blinked: “Then what… what did I say in my sleep?”
But Fu Moyang went quiet. Instead, he got up from the bed and calmly put on his butler uniform. Clearly changing the subject: “Young Master, please get dressed. We should go wash up.”
The shift was smooth—too smooth. A classic move. And for someone as unworldly as this little lamb, it worked like a charm.
His head was now completely filled with thoughts of whatever embarrassing sleep talk he might’ve said. Lost in speculation, he didn’t even notice the man was now kneeling before him, helping him into his shoes.
“You—You don’t have to go this far,” Chen Li mumbled, cheeks reddening.
Fu Moyang’s long, elegant fingers expertly tied a bow. Without looking up, he reminded him: “You’re going to break character.”
Based on the game’s script, a young master with a volatile temper refusing service from an untrained butler would be perfectly in line with his role.
The game wouldn’t nitpick.
But, of course, Fu Moyang didn’t bother to point that out.
After finishing dressing the thin-skinned young master, Fu Moyang put his mask back on.
His silver-gray pupils darkened to black, and his voice changed accordingly.
Once they’d finished washing up, Chen Li stepped out of the room, feeling a little nervous.
After all, he knew the man behind him—the “butler”—was really Fu Moyang.
He hadn’t had the chance to ask why he was here, but he had a strong feeling Fu Moyang had followed him deliberately.
This strange, shared secret between the two of them left Chen Li feeling unsettled, unsure what to make of it.
They walked down the corridor together. But as they neared the staircase, Chen Li suddenly froze.
“The paintings over here… When did those two get blacked out?”
There had only been empty frames on the fifth floor. But now, two of them were painted over—just like the ones downstairs.
Did that happen during the night?
Nervous, Chen Li called out to the system in his head.
Now you remember me?
System 001 replied bluntly: [They were already black before you entered the room last night.]
In other words, you ran too fast to even notice.
Chen Li: …
Yeah, last night he really had been too focused on running to pay attention to anything else.
But what did the frames mean?
Two blacked-out paintings on the fifth floor… Could it be connected to the two acrobats who died yesterday?
Somehow, Chen Li’s instincts told him that once all the paintings were blacked out, something terrible would happen.
He stood there for about two minutes—and then, that eerie sensation of being watched returned.
A chill climbed up from the soles of his feet…
Then just as quickly, it vanished.
Chen Li: ???
He blinked in confusion.
Just a moment ago the paintings had felt sinister. Now, they seemed…normal again.
The paintings, under Fu Moyang’s death stare: Sir, please just leave us alone already.
Unable to make sense of it, Chen Li gave up and headed downstairs to the main hall.
Because he had woken up so early, he was actually the first one to arrive at the dining table.
There was no one else in sight—not even Emily.
Unable to hold it in any longer, Chen Li crooked a finger at Fu Moyang, who stood nearby.
Fu Moyang obediently leaned down: “Is there something you need, Young Master?”
The last two words were drawn out with a particularly lingering tone.
Unfortunately, Chen Li’s head was too full of other concerns to notice. He mimicked Fu Moyang and leaned in close, whispering: “What exactly did I say in my sleep last night?”
A faint smile appeared in Fu Moyang’s eyes: “You really want to know that badly?”
Chen Li’s eyes lit up: “I do.”
“Then come a little closer.” Fu Moyang leaned in, voice suddenly full of affection.
“You said…”
“I like Brother Fu so much.”
Author’s note: Someone is seriously such a damn dog. 😤