Chapter 39: War

In unprecedented terror, she came to her senses, forcing her eyes open; the conference was still in session, and only Feng Liancheng and Chen Chen Yushu, seated closest to her, noticed her abnormality, leaning over to look at her with concern.

Excellent, everything is normal!

A surge of immense joy filled her heart, and her tightly strung nerves relaxed slightly.

But how long can it remain normal? she asked herself. His tiny reminder left you exhausted, nearly exposing your abnormality in public; how much longer can you endure?

I must resolve Him quickly, but how?

Facing such an enigmatic existence that even completely dominated her sensations, she felt at a loss, unsure where to begin.

At least, I must first resolve the issue of the Life Source; otherwise...

A chill crawled up her spine; she was like a beetle trapped in pine resin, struggling desperately, yet only causing the resin to envelop her more tightly and securely.

"Yang Yi, what's wrong? Why is your face so pale? Your forehead is covered in sweat..." Feng Liancheng leaned over, asking anxiously in a lowered voice.

Chen Chen Yushu also frowned at her, his face showing concern; Wei Chang'an, seated across the aisle, also noticed the commotion here and poked his head over to look.

Even Director Zhou turned his head to look in this direction.

"It's nothing, my stomach is just a bit uncomfortable..." Yang Yi said; only now did she realize her voice was hoarse, as if scraped by sandpaper.

"How could this happen? Is it poisoning? Could it be..." Feng Liancheng's usually enthusiastic face immediately turned serious, as if facing a great enemy. "Which faction is behind this... Could it be..." He immediately rose to report to Director Zhou ahead.

"No!" Yang Yi used her telekinesis to pin him down. "Calm down! It's not poisoning, it's..." She hesitated, then spoke with a composed expression: "My period has started; I have menstrual cramps."

Feng Liancheng sighed in relief. "I see, you scared me!" he said, sitting up straight. Chen Chen Yushu looked somewhat embarrassed and withdrew his gaze.

"It's hard to buy brown sugar in this country of Aka..." Feng Liancheng opened his phone map to search. "Let me see if there's a Chinese supermarket nearby; if not, drinking some hot sweetened beverage would be fine too—in my opinion, they're all about the same, though my girlfriend always insists the difference is huge..."

A touch of warmth arose in Yang Yi's heart; she used her telekinesis to prop her weak body upright, cleared her throat to make her voice less hoarse, and said, "Indeed, the difference isn't great; don't buy brown sugar. Just have some hot drink during the break later..."

"I found one; there's a Chinese supermarket nearby. I'll go after the meeting ends at noon." Feng Liancheng checked the route. "Girls should drink some brown sugar at this time, even if it's just a psychological effect."

Yang Yi said nothing, accepting his kindness.

The morning meeting finally ended; Yang Yi used her telekinesis to force her body back to her hotel room. As soon as she entered, she collapsed, sitting on the sofa and panting.

After a few minutes, she seemed to regain some strength; using her telekinesis, she removed her clothes, soaked through with cold sweat and then dried, turned on the hot water in the bathtub, and threw herself into it.

She gazed blankly at the bathroom ceiling light; aside from the gushing sound of the water, the bathroom was utterly silent.

Suddenly, the text message ringtone sounded; her phone flew before her. Yang Yi opened her weary eyes and glanced at it.

"When do you get off work? 【Smiley Face】 I really want to see you right now!" It was a message from Chris.

The content was simple and direct, without any twists and turns, radiating a pure expectation.

At this moment, she had no mind to guess and wonder; such a mode of communication was just right. Yang Yi's mood improved slightly.

She thought for a moment and typed: "Where do you live? Send me your location."

The other side quickly sent the location: the top-floor suite of the Elro Hotel.

Yang Yi raised an eyebrow. The top floor? Is he deliberately creating an opportunity for me? Or for himself?

"Wait for me; I'll fly over to find you after work." Yang Yi typed, then suddenly felt that offering herself up so actively might seem too... But if she let him take a car to the hotel to pick her up, wouldn't that be announcing their date to the world? Given their current fame, it would absolutely spark global discussion, which nearly terrified her.

If they were not to reveal their romantic relationship for now and had to act in secret, Yang Yi would definitely be the more convenient one, after all, she could fly.

"Then I'd better get ready quickly! 【Big Laugh】" Chris replied.

Yang Yi smiled and placed her phone aside. The water in the bathtub began to surge, flowing over her entire body as if alive, massaging her powerless frame; the body wash and shampoo also opened their caps on their own, lathering many bubbles on her.

After bathing, new clothes from the suitcase flew over and dressed her automatically. She came before the mirror and looked at her complexion; after being soaked in hot water, her face had improved greatly, showing some color, and she looked less weak.

Her stomach was empty, occasionally twitching; this sensation had accompanied her for many days, and she expected it would inevitably accompany her for a very long time to come.

She told herself: You should get used to it, just as humans are meant to be.

The girl in the mirror was tall and slender, with long hair cascading to her shoulders; her features were cold, her expression indifferent, and her eyes black as ink.

Gazing at the figure in the mirror, she thought faintly: What exactly does he like about you? Such a plain face? Such a washboard-like figure? Such a lifeless, rigid expression?

Or does he like your insanity? Your split personality?

She let out a silent, cold laugh.

Who cares! A sapphire that you could never afford even by spending all your assets in the past is about to be in your grasp; as long as you can get him, what does it matter what that gemstone is thinking?

Whether a cake is delicious and sweet or tastes like shit, you must try it to know.

She reached out and pushed her tightened corners of the mouth upward, forcing a polite smile onto her face, turned, and walked out of the guest room to attend the next meeting.

————

Chris jumped up from the sofa. "What time is it? How much time is left until work ends? Right, when does she get off work?" He then realized he hadn't even asked clearly before. He felt a bit annoyed; she must be in a meeting again right now. Damn it, why does the United Nations give so little rest time?

He paced in place, then remembered to notify the suite butler to prepare a dinner banquet to be delivered to his suite's living room in the evening, with many roses, champagne, candles... After giving the notice, he thought again: Would this be too clichéd? Does she really like this?

But if not this, then what? He had almost never spent any thought on these things before, because no matter what he prepared, the other party was usually very happy...

She is different, she is different—a voice echoed in his heart.

But exactly where is she different? He wanted to analyze it carefully, but the time on his phone screen was like a soul-reaper, with only four hours left. Perhaps her meeting would end early? Then the time would be even tighter; too late, too late! Hurry up and prepare!

Right, she likes the scent of oranges—why does she think I smell like oranges? This question had troubled him for many days. A woman having a unique sensory expectation for someone she has never met might be due to her own emotional projection... What significance does the scent of oranges hold in her heart?

Chris arrived at the outer washroom. On the long black washstand, the suite butler had arranged his toiletries neatly; several bottles of citrus-scented perfumes were placed together: Hermes "Un Jardin Sur Le Nil", Dior "Eau Sauvage", CK "One", Hermes "Eau de Citron Noir"...

Before arriving, he had tested the scents; finally, he chose "Un Jardin Sur Le Nil". The top notes are orange and bergamot, the heart notes are orange blossom and oleander, and the base notes are cypress, fig leaf, musk, juniper, and pistachio. It is a cool aquatic floral fragrance, where the citrus notes meet green leaves and oleander, mature and gentle.

Is the orange scent she mentioned like this? Or the scent of a real orange?

Does she prefer suits? Or casual wear? More formal, or more relaxed? Chris stood before the walk-in closet, inspecting and pondering.

She probably prefers men in formal wear. Judging by her reactions to his photos sent several times, when he wore casual clothes, or photos by the pool that were rather cool and revealing, her reactions were relatively flat; whereas every time he wore a full suit or uniform, tightly wrapped, her responses were quite enthusiastic—women who usually like this style subconsciously actually prefer a sense of restraint, a self-control after understanding true desires...

While silently analyzing, Chris took a rather formal British three-piece suit from the wardrobe.

He almost instinctively used all the knowledge he had learned to analyze Yang Yi; he liked to plan before acting and disliked fighting battles without preparation. After obtaining every role, he would analyze the character's deep psychology and behavioral logic, even if it was just a commercial movie character with no depth. Since he decided to become an actor, he vowed to stand at the peak of this industry; for this, besides the necessary acting courses, he also self-studied psychology, micro-expression analysis, behavioral analysis, and so on.

Becoming an actor with his appearance is not difficult, obtaining roles is not difficult, reaching the upper echelons of this industry is not difficult, and becoming an influential commercial star is not difficult—he is one now—but... a true actor, not a commercial star... reaching the peak of acting requires talent and spirituality...

He thought of his senior, Lewis, who had received 12 Oscar nominations and won 3 Oscars (Little Golden Men); he possessed a unique ability where almost every role had nothing in common with the others; he could completely transform himself into the character and forget his own existence. Undoubtedly, this was a talent, a spirituality possessed only by the finest actors.

He envied this talent.

A critic's harsh assessment involuntarily surfaced in his mind: "He has nothing but handsomeness," "Every role he plays carries his own shadow; sometimes you can't even tell them apart," "His crying scenes are beautiful, making one ache for him—but not for the character"...

Damn, why did he think of these again? Their cruelty targeted all actors; even Lewis had once been viciously criticized by them. You should stay calm, discard these negative evaluations. Those with value can urge self-improvement, but those entirely malicious, used merely to grab attention, should be thrown away completely; do not let them affect your emotions...

Chris came to his senses, took off his clothes, and walked into the bathroom.

Under the rushing sound of the shower, a thought suddenly occurred to him: Will she like the real me?

He knew that what she actually liked was a man-made image, a persona crafted by his company, a product concept, an illusory phantom, not the real him.

Just like all fans idolizing an idol.

But for almost all fans, the closer they get to the idol, the easier that illusory bubble bursts; the more perfect the conception in their hearts, the greater the gap between the real person in reality and the fantasy.

And his remote contact with her these past few days had almost been showing his best side—anyone wants to show their best side before someone they admire.

Would the real him not be good enough, failing to meet her requirements for an illusory idol? Would the second time they met, as they drew closer and closer, as the sense of reality increased and the illusory starlight faded, he slowly lose his attraction to her?

Would she, after getting to know him, gradually become disappointed? Would she discover that beneath this beautiful skin, he was nothing special? Once the hypnotic, beautiful mist on him dispersed, what remained would just be an ordinary human male.

Yes, this was the process of disillusionment for most fans after approaching an idol.

Having finished his shower with such a mood of anxiety over gain and loss, he suddenly realized he had lost that casual ease with which he usually handled love. He was not a green, inexperienced youth; he had had several serious romantic experiences, but every time he held the initiative. Never before had he felt such fear and unease—this was usually the other party's state of mind. Sometimes he would comfort his girlfriend, making her feel secure, but at other times he would basely enjoy the feeling of having complete control over the other person.

Love came easily to him; things obtained too easily are often not cherished too much.

This time was different.

He seemed to see a meteor that had accidentally crashed into a star; it had completely lost its forward direction, drawn by the star's magnificent, blazing flames, charging forward with a desperate, unhesitating resolve, even if the result was merely striking up a small spark on the star's surface.

This almost made him feel fearful. Instinctively, he straightened his body, his hair standing on end. A shiver sent a chill through him, as if being watched by an enemy lurking in the shadows.

His instinct for self-protection immediately filled him with vigilance; he felt he was on a battlefield.

Yes, this was a war. One could not be demoralized before the campaign began; that would guarantee defeat.

He had never lost in matters of the heart; he was born with the ability to dominate women—even though he had never deliberately exercised this power.

He had always been a king, never experiencing submission, nor preparing to become a servant.

Quickly putting on that British three-piece suit, paired with matching shoes and socks, he came before the mirror, applied hair gel, and combed his brown-black hair back. Looking at the figure in the mirror, he prepared to find some flaw in him and correct it to a state of perfection.

Finally, he just smiled; it was a smile of complete confidence.

Good, she will like it.

He had put on his battle armor and was ready to go to war.

Gather all information on the enemy, analyze it comprehensively, break through one by one, and occupy the enemy's country. This would be the most arduous, yet greatest, campaign of his life.

He walked out of the room and came to the private terrace pool. The Elro International Hotel was the tallest building nearby; one could easily see the orange-red sun slowly sinking below the horizon in the distance.

The sky was about to turn dark; the battle was about to begin.