[{"data":1,"prerenderedAt":-1},["ShallowReactive",2],{"origin-after-becoming-a-god-among-humans-i-just-want-to":3,"chapter-after-becoming-a-god-among-humans-i-just-want-to-after-becoming-a-god-among-humans-i-just-want-to-chapter-39":6},{"origin":4,"title":5},"chinese","After Becoming a God Among Humans, I Just Want to Lie Flat",{"chapter":7,"nextChapterSlug":19,"prevChapterSlug":20,"totalChapters":21,"novelImage":22},{"id":8,"novel_id":9,"title":10,"slug":11,"index":12,"content":13,"wordcount":14,"created_at":15,"updated_at":15,"volume":16,"translator":17,"content_hash":18},2302178,4502,"Chapter 39: War","after-becoming-a-god-among-humans-i-just-want-to-chapter-39",39,"\u003Cp>In unprecedented fear, she woke up, forcing her eyes open—the meeting was still in session; only Feng Liancheng and Chen Yushu, closest to her, noticed her anomaly and leaned over with concern.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Perfect, everything is normal!\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>A surge of immense relief filled her heart, and her tense spirit eased slightly.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But how long could it last? she asked herself. One small reminder from Him left you exhausted, nearly exposing your abnormality in public—how much longer could you hold on?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>She must resolve Him soon, but how?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Such a mysterious, even dominant presence over her senses left her utterly at a loss, helpless.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>At least, she must first solve the problem of the Life Source, otherwise…\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>A chill crept up her spine; she felt like a beetle trapped in resin, struggling desperately, only sinking deeper into its suffocating grip.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Yang Yi, what’s wrong? Your face is so pale, your forehead is covered in sweat…” Feng Liancheng leaned forward, whispering anxiously.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Chen Yushu also frowned at her, his face filled with concern; Wei Chang’an across the aisle noticed the commotion and craned his neck toward them.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Even Director Zhou turned to look this way.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“I’m fine, just a bit of stomach discomfort…” Yang Yi said, only now realizing her voice was hoarse, as if scraped by sandpaper.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“How could this happen? Poisoned? Could it be…” Feng Liancheng’s usually cheerful face turned grim, alert as if facing an enemy, “Which faction did this… Could it be…” He immediately rose to report to Director Zhou ahead.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“No!” Yang Yi used her mental force to pin him down. “Stay calm! It’s not poison—it’s…” She hesitated, then said calmly, “My period’s here. Cramps.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Feng Liancheng exhaled in relief. “Oh, that’s all? You scared me!” He sat upright. Chen Yushu looked awkward and withdrew his gaze.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“This Akar red sugar is hard to find…” Feng Liancheng opened his phone map to search, “Let me see if there’s a Zhongchao nearby—if not, hot drinks with sugar won’t hurt—personally, I think they’re all about the same, but my girlfriend insists there’s a huge difference…”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>A warmth stirred in Yang Yi’s heart. She used her mental force to straighten her weak body, cleared her throat, and softened her hoarse voice: “The difference really isn’t that big. Don’t buy red sugar—just have a hot drink during the break…”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“I found one—a Zhongchao nearby. I’ll go after lunch.” Feng Liancheng checked the route. “Girls should drink red sugar at times like this—even if it’s just psychological comfort.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Yang Yi said nothing, accepting his kindness.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The morning meeting finally ended. Yang Yi used her mental force to drag herself back to her hotel room. As soon as she entered, her strength collapsed. She sat on the sofa, gasping.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>After a few minutes, some strength returned. Using her mental force, she shed her soaked, dried-out clothes, turned on the bathtub’s hot water, and dropped herself into it.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>She stared blankly at the bathroom ceiling light. The only sound was the rush of water—utter silence.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Suddenly, a text alert chimed. Her phone flew to her face. Yang Yi wearily opened her eyes to glance at it.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“When are you off work? 😊 I really want to see you right now!” It was Chris’s message.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Simple, direct, unadorned—radiating pure anticipation.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>She had no patience for guessing games now—this style suited her perfectly. Her mood lifted slightly.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>She thought, then typed: “Where are you staying? Send me your location.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He replied instantly—a location in the penthouse suite of the Elro Hotel.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Yang Yi raised an eyebrow. Penthouse? Is this intentional—creating an opportunity for me… or for himself?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Wait for me. I’ll fly over after work.” She typed, then paused. Was she being too forward? But asking him to drive to the hotel to pick her up would announce their date to the world. With their current fame, it would trigger global uproar—nearly terrifying her.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>If their relationship must remain secret, she was clearly the more convenient one—after all, she could fly.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Then I’d better hurry up! 😆” Chris replied.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Yang Yi smiled, placing her phone aside. The bathwater surged around her, alive, flowing over her body, massaging her exhausted limbs. The shower gel and shampoo lids opened automatically, lathering her skin with foam.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>After bathing, fresh clothes flew from her suitcase and dressed her. She stood before the mirror, studying her face. After the hot water, her complexion had improved—some color returned, she no longer looked so frail.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Her stomach was empty, occasionally spasming. This sensation had haunted her for many days—and would likely haunt her for a long time to come.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>She told herself: You must grow accustomed to it. This is how a person is supposed to be.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The girl in the mirror was tall and slender, long hair falling to her shoulders, her face cold and expressionless, eyes black as ink.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>She gazed at her reflection, thinking faintly: What does he even like about me? This plain face? This bony frame? This dull, lifeless expression?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Or does he like my madness? My dissociation?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>She let out a silent, bitter laugh.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Who cares! A sapphire you could never have bought with all your former wealth is about to be yours. If you can have him, what does the gem care what it thinks?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>You must taste the cake—whether it’s sweet or like shit.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>She pushed her tense lips upward, forcing a polite smile onto her face, then turned and left the room, heading to the next meeting.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>————\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Chris leapt off the sofa. “What time is it? How long until work ends? Wait—when does she finish?” He realized he’d never asked. He felt annoyed—she was surely back in another meeting. Damn it, why does the United Nations give so little rest time?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He paced in place, then remembered to notify the suite butler to prepare a dinner—serve it in his sitting room at dusk, with countless roses, champagne, candles… After giving the order, he wondered: Is this too cliché? Does she even like this?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But if not this, then what? He’d never bothered planning such things before—no matter what he prepared, the other person was always delighted…\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>She’s different. She’s different—a voice echoed in his heart.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But how exactly? He tried to analyze it, yet the time on his phone screen ticked like a death sentence—only four hours left. Maybe her meeting ends early? Then time’s even tighter—no time, no time! Hurry up and prepare!\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Oh—she likes orange scent—why does she think I’m orange-scented? This question had plagued him for days. A woman forming a unique emotional expectation of someone she’s never met—could it be projection? What meaning does orange hold in her mind?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Chris entered the bathroom. On the black marble counter, the suite butler had arranged his toiletries neatly: several citrus-scented perfumes together—Hermès “Mediterranean Garden,” Dior “Eau Fraîche,” CK “One,” Hermes “Black Citron Eau de Cologne…”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Before arriving, he’d tested them all. He chose “Mediterranean Garden”—top notes of orange and lemon, heart of orange blossom and oleander, base of cypress, fig leaf, musk, juniper, and pistachio—a cool aquatic floral scent, the citrus and green oleander blending into a mature, gentle harmony.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Is this the orange scent she meant? Or actual oranges?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Does she prefer suits or casual wear? Formal or relaxed? Chris stood before his walk-in closet, pondering.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>She likely prefers men in formal attire. From analyzing her reactions to his photos, when he wore casual clothes—or worse, photos by the pool in minimal clothing—her responses were muted. But whenever he wore a full suit or uniform, tightly covered, her replies were warmer—women who favor this style often unconsciously crave restraint, self-control after acknowledging true desire…\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>As he silently analyzed, he pulled out a formal British three-piece suit.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He instinctively applied every bit of knowledge he’d acquired to analyze Yang Yi. He loved planning. He hated unprepared battles. After acquiring every role, he dissected the character’s deeper psychology and logic—even shallow commercial movie roles. Since deciding to become an actor, he vowed to reach the pinnacle of the industry. Beyond required acting courses, he self-studied psychology, micro-expression, behavioral analysis.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>With his looks, landing roles was easy. Reaching the upper echelons was easy. Becoming a commercially influential star was easy—he already was. But… a true actor, not a commercial star… reaching the peak of acting required talent and spirit…\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He thought of veteran Lewis, who received twelve Oscar nominations, won three Oscars. He possessed a unique ability—each role was utterly distinct. He became the character, forgetting himself entirely. Undoubtedly, this was a gift—the spirit only the greatest actors possessed.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He envied that talent.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Harsh film critics’ reviews surfaced unbidden: “He has nothing but good looks,” “Every character he plays is just himself—you can’t tell them apart,” “His crying scenes are beautiful, heartbreaking—but not for the character…”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Damn it, why did he recall these? Their cruelty targeted all actors—even Lewis had been viciously criticized. Stay calm. Discard these negative reviews. The valuable ones can spur growth; the purely malicious, attention-seeking ones—discard them entirely. Don’t let them poison your emotions…\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Chris snapped back to himself, stripped off his clothes, and stepped into the shower.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Beneath the rushing water, a thought struck him: Will she like the real me?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He knew she actually liked the image engineered for him—the persona crafted by his company, a product concept, a phantom, not the real him.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Like all fans obsessed with idols.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But the closer fans get to idols, the more easily the illusion shatters. The more perfect the fantasy, the wider the gap with reality.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>In these past days, his remote contact with her had shown only his best side—everyone wants to appear their best before someone they desire.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Would the real him be insufficient? Would he fail to meet her fantasy? Would he lose his allure as they grew closer, as reality replaced illusion, as the star’s glow faded?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Would she grow disappointed? Would she discover that beneath this beautiful shell, he was just an ordinary man? When the magical mist lifted, only a common human male remained.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Yes—this was the standard disillusionment process for fans approaching idols.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Washing up with this anxious, insecure heart, he suddenly realized—he’d lost the casual ease he once had with love. He wasn’t some naive boy; he’d had serious relationships before, always in control. Never before had he felt this terrified—this was usually the woman’s state. Sometimes he comforted his girlfriends, eased their fears; sometimes he cruelly enjoyed total dominance.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Love came easily to him. What’s easily won is rarely cherished.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>This time was different.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He seemed to see a meteor, accidentally veering into a star—losing all direction, drawn by its blazing fire, charging toward it with desperate, unyielding resolve, even if the result was merely a tiny spark on its surface.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>It nearly terrified him. He instinctively straightened, every hair on his body standing, a shiver running through him—as if watched by a hidden enemy.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>His self-preservation instinct flared with alertness. He felt he stood on a battlefield.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Yes—this was war. You cannot enter battle with low morale—you will lose for certain.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He had never lost in love. He was born with the power to command women—even without ever deliberately wielding it.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He had always been king. He had never known submission, nor intended to become a servant.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He quickly dressed in the British three-piece suit, paired with matching socks and shoes, stood before the mirror, applied hair gel, and combed his dark-brown hair back. He studied his reflection, searching for flaws to correct into perfection.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Finally, he simply smiled—a smile of quiet confidence.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Good. She will like it.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He had donned his battle armor. He was ready for war.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Gather all enemy intelligence. Analyze comprehensively. Break through each defense. Conquer the nation. This would be his most grueling, yet greatest campaign.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He stepped out of his room to the private terrace pool. The Elro International Hotel was the tallest building nearby, offering a clear view of the orange-red sun slowly sinking beyond the horizon.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Night was coming. The battle was about to begin.\u003C\u002Fp>",2003,"2026-06-20T07:52:47.920Z",1,"Qwen3-Next 80B","fa4ce810d40bb9c65edf049f4cdbfaf2bae1f1061874747b44e477834c9730b2","after-becoming-a-god-among-humans-i-just-want-to-chapter-40","after-becoming-a-god-among-humans-i-just-want-to-chapter-38",246,"https:\u002F\u002Fnovelzhen.com\u002Fimages\u002Fcovers\u002Fafter-becoming-a-god-among-humans-i-just-want-to-cover.jpg"]