Chapter 2523: Non-human: Xiao Chen's Amnesia 14

Over there, Ye Lu had already been taken out of the Chief Executive Officer's office by Liu Zou.

He returned to the Assistant Office, dazed and dispirited, could no longer hold back, slumped at his workstation, shoulders twitching slightly, tears falling silently.

The surrounding colleagues exchanged bewildered glances, and someone whispered, "Ye Lu, what's wrong? Are you okay?"

Ye Lu had not yet recovered from the feeling of injustice and fright, merely shaking his head, unable to speak.

At that moment, the glass door of Liang Yanzhe's office opened.

Liang Yanzhe stood at the doorway, his gaze first falling above Ye Lu's workstation, where black mist swirled, seemingly in a good mood.

No wonder he was missing after coming back from the meeting earlier.

Jin Chen immediately floated up happily, "Wife!"

Liang Yanzhe expressionlessly shifted his gaze, his eyes landing on Ye Lu, who was slumped over the desk sobbing; he tapped the glass door frame, his voice calm and unemotional.

"Ye Lu."

Ye Lu's body stiffened at his voice, but he did not rise; instead, choking back tears, he said, "I know... Assistant Liang, you're going to say I abandoned my post, broke the rules... but I haven't done anything wrong."

"I only wanted to repay General Manager Zhou's kindness; what have I done wrong..."

Liang Yanzhe: "......"

He patiently said, tone flat, "Come to my office to talk."

But Ye Lu, as if provoked by those words, lifted his head, tears still on his face, "If you want to criticize me, just say it here."

"We are all colleagues, assistants working for General Manager Zhou; I feel no one is more noble than another."

The entire Assistant Office area fell instantly silent.

All colleagues stopped their work, staring over here in astonishment.

This person must be crazy.

Liang Yanzhe: "......"

Liang Yanzhe pushed up his glasses, his gaze sharp and cold, spoke without emotion, "Sure,"

"So please explain why you put mud in General Manager Zhou's coffee."

Other colleagues:???

What is it? Mud?

Liang Yanzhe continued in a flat, unemotional tone that hit home: "As you wish, General Manager Zhou now believes you are very likely a corporate spy sent by a rival company."

"Attempting, by such an extraordinary method, to make him feel unwell so he cannot participate in tomorrow's crucial bidding meeting."

Ye Lu felt as if struck by lightning, jumping up: "What? I'm not, I didn't!"

Ling Gun Gun cheered in the sea of consciousness.

【Well done, Host!】

The mist also twisted proudly.

That's right, he did a great job!

Protecting one's wife starts with giving the disliked person a pot.

——

Lunchtime.

Liang Yanzhe took off his glasses, placed them on the bedside table, closed his eyes and lay on the single bed, a thin air-conditioning blanket draped over him.

He was accustomed to closing his eyes at noon to rest his mind, allowing his brain, which had been racing all morning, to take a brief break.

The black mist seeped in from the edge of the blanket.

Liang Yanzhe's eyelids twitched; he felt the mist trying to spread upward along his waist, especially favoring slipping into his shirt collar.

He reached out and, under the blanket, grasped that tendril of misty tentacle that was trying to undo his shirt buttons, which had somewhat solidified.

The tentacle twisted in his palm, seeming somewhat dissatisfied, but then settled down.

Only then did Liang Yanzhe slowly open his eyes, gazing at the ceiling, and calmly stated.

"The one who put mud in General Manager Zhou's coffee cup is you."

The mist of Jin Chen, which had been trying to keep burrowing toward warmth, suddenly stalled.

Jin Chen: "?"

Eh. Who told the wife?

Oh no, the Abyssal Swamp cannot tell lies.

Jin Chen hesitated a moment, somewhat grudgingly admitted, "It was me."

After admitting, he immediately became self-righteous again; the captured tendril rubbed affectionately against Liang Yanzhe's palm, while the rest of the mist continued to burrow into his embrace, trying to bluff its way through.

Liang Yanzhe remained unmoved, even slightly tightening his fingers to stop that rubbing.

"Didn't you promise me you could keep our agreement?"

He turned his head, his gaze unfocused on the nearby air, his tone lacking much reproach: "Why did you do this?"

Jin Chen paused, thinking rapidly.

The Abyssal Swamp was about to be dried out by this question.

How should he explain Ling Gun Gun's mission, the protagonist's halo, and the importance of preventing Ye Lu from approaching Zhou Chengjun?

These cannot be said.

After holding it in for a while, Jin Chen finally said, "Then I'll... be more careful from now on."

Be careful, so the wife doesn't find out.

Liang Yanzhe listened to these words, fell silent for a moment, and let out a soft sigh.

He finally realized clearly how difficult, even laughable, it is to have a nonhuman monster with a vastly different mindset understand and obey human rules.

Perhaps... we still need to find a way to get rid of this uncontrollable existence.

He turned and asked, "As an uh, very powerful... existence, don't you need to do something else?"

"For example, return to your swamp, or go save the world or something like that."

Jin Chen answered immediately, proudly, "No need."

"I'm doing the most important thing right now."

Liang Yanzhe: "......"

The most important thing refers to lying on top of him sleeping and causing trouble, right?

He couldn't help but grip the thin blanket on his body.

Under the blanket, the icy mist had already covered most of his chest, the biting sensation intermittently falling on his skin.

If it were only this, perhaps it wouldn't yet drive him to complete loss of composure.

But Jin Chen is not human, and has no concept of restraint.

Every time he draws near and entwines, it comes with a light or heavy pressure that is hardly gentle, and a faint sting.

It feels as if countless icy, strong vines simultaneously bind and gnaw at him.

Liang Yanzhe's fingers gripping the edge of the thin blanket tremble slightly, and faint blue veins show on the back of his distinctively jointed hand.

He strives to keep his breathing steady, but his cold face honestly flushes with a pale red, spreading from his ears down to the side of his neck.

Even though his face still shows little expression.

This restrained yet honest reaction pleases Jin Chen, even arousing its desire to bully further.

The black mist becomes more substantial, its weight quietly increasing, pressing down heavily.

Jin Chen feels that the strand of protagonist halo energy he swallowed this morning seems to have made him stronger.

Several tendrils of mist, like flexible icy little snakes, spread along the sheets, silently crawling up Liang Yanzhe's ankle and then slowly winding upward.

The calf muscles are seized by the suddenly tightening mist; the soft flesh is even pressed to bulge slightly, and the overly tight winding soon leaves clear red marks on that skin, looking as if whipped.

"Uh..."

Liang Yanzhe, caught off guard, lets out a suppressed low groan from his throat.

The sound is very soft, a fine tremor drawn out by the pain.

The mist covering his face twitches excitedly; Jin Chen presses close, brimming with the joy of discovering a new continent.

"Wife, make that sound again—I love hearing it."

Liang Yanzhe: "......"

He turns his head, trying to avoid the omnipresent sticky sensation, his voice suppressed.

"...... No."

Liang Yanzhe tries to summon his usual calm, his voice hoarse: "...... Let me go, this is still the office."

Jin Chen is dissatisfied.

"Why can't it be the office? Wife, you're sleeping now."

Shouldn't sleep time belong to him? Human rules are really troublesome.

He's a bit angry, feeling his wife is always looking for excuses to refuse.

Jin Chen's learning ability is strong; after circling the group for half a day, he learned a word, a workplace term: "to fool around."

He uses it opportunely just now.

He becomes stern, loudly complaining, "Wife, you're always fooling me."

Before his words finish, the mist coiled around Liang Yanzhe's wrists and ankles suddenly tightens, the pressure on his body sharply increases, almost squeezing the air from his lungs.

"Hn..." Liang Yanzhe is again squeezed out a short whimper, the pitiable tone in his voice becoming more evident, completely uncontrollable.

His wrists are firmly bound; his struggle becomes futile and weak.

Just then.

Dong dong dong.