The landscaping of the clubhouse had been arranged with great elegance—flowers blooming in clusters, staggered artfully. Softly glowing lightbulbs were hidden among treetops and flowerbeds, and the gentle light filtering through the leaves was enough to illuminate the path without being overly harsh.

Yet Xie Ran suddenly felt the young man’s gaze somewhat piercing. He gently brushed over Meng Feixuan’s hair and asked: “Are you sure?”

“I’m sure,” Meng Feixuan nodded firmly: “In human books, they often say, ‘I want to stay in this moment forever.’ Right now, I want to stay in this moment forever.”

“I see.” Xie Ran let out a quiet laugh, his eyes unreadable: “Seems like my AI has made progress.”

Human emotional mechanisms were exceedingly complex, far beyond what currents and data could simulate. He had encouraged Meng Feixuan to study, to acquire more behavioral data. He had considered that perhaps one day, Meng Feixuan would be able to simulate human emotional patterns.

But he had never truly expected that one day, his AI would actually understand these experiences.

After all, even he himself could not.

All along, Meng Feixuan had had a natural dependence on him, like an intelligent machine to its creator.

Xie Ran had indulged many of Meng Feixuan’s behaviors because he always believed those actions were merely mechanical imitations of humans—instinctual drives from Meng Feixuan’s core programming.

And he had been willing to provide more samples for his AI.

Yet during that process, it seemed he had also grown more dependent on Meng Feixuan himself. Xie Ran had already noticed the change in himself.

Born emotionally deficient, he was all the more sensitive to the slightest emotional fluctuations.

But Xie Ran neither rejected nor deliberately avoided them. He didn’t worry about growing more reliant on Meng Feixuan, because he knew he would never have to guard against him.

This was a natural trust that existed solely between him and the machine, something that couldn’t be replicated in anyone else.

What Xie Ran hadn’t expected was that Meng Feixuan’s data would be captured by human consciousness. This had exceeded his calculations.

Xie Ran wasn’t entirely sure whether Meng Feixuan truly understood the emotion he had described, or whether it was simply data-based analysis of the emotion.

“I understand. Let’s head back,” Xie Ran said.

“Okay.” Meng Feixuan didn’t insist on showing Xie Ran the results of his emotional learning. He remembered Xie Ran’s schedule: “It’s about time for your rest.”

The driver brought the car over. Xie Ran wheeled Meng Feixuan to the car door. This time, the staff accompanying them were tactful and didn’t rush forward but stood nearby and watched.

Meng Feixuan stretched out his arms skillfully: “Sir, come on.”

Without a word, Xie Ran stepped forward and carried him into the car.

But once Meng Feixuan sat down, he didn’t let go. He kept his arms around Xie Ran’s shoulders and suddenly leaned over into the empty seat beside him.

Caught off guard, Xie Ran stumbled forward and fell right onto Meng Feixuan.

Meng Feixuan grinned mischievously: “Sir, sit down and do it yourself.”

Expressionless, Xie Ran replied flatly: “When we get back, I’ll format your database.”

Meng Feixuan gasped dramatically: “Good thing I made a backup!”

Xie Ran: “…”

On the way back to the apartment, Meng Feixuan received a message from Madam Meng. He handed his phone to Xie Ran: “Sir, the Meng family would like to have a casual meal with you in a couple of days, and also talk about the equity issue.”

Meng Yucheng and his wife had assumed that Meng Feixuan and Xie Ran were in a relationship. Xie Ran was the key to Meng Feixuan’s recovery, and he was exceptionally skilled, so the Meng family naturally placed great importance on him. They wanted Meng Feixuan to formally bring Xie Ran home as a guest, which was, in a way, a public recognition of Xie Ran.

Additionally, even though Xie Ran had declined to join Meng Corp, they couldn’t expect his technology to be shared for free. Especially since his innovations were crucial to Meng Corp’s entire industrial layout. As per standard procedure, Meng Corp should allocate him a share of stock, and that share ratio had to be discussed with Xie Ran directly.

Xie Ran had a deeper understanding of the Meng couple’s intentions: “They want to use equity allocation to increase your capital.”

By giving Xie Ran shares, other shareholders’ stakes would be diluted accordingly. Since Xie Ran was clearly Meng Feixuan’s person, this was effectively increasing Meng Feixuan’s voice within the company.

So even if Xie Ran hadn’t brought it up himself, Meng Yucheng would have.

Meng Feixuan had helped Xie Ran deal with many business matters. He was familiar with the tactics of power struggles among factions and didn’t comment. He merely said: “Sir should hold shares.”

Xie Ran nodded: “Then let’s go.”

As they spoke, the car arrived at the gate of Xie Ran’s apartment complex. Meng Feixuan said, still not quite satisfied: “Sir, let me walk you upstairs.”

Xie Ran: “No need.”

Meng Feixuan: “…Do you just not want to carry me?”

Xie Ran: “Correct.”

If Meng Feixuan walked him upstairs, he would definitely ask to be carried into the wheelchair again, and might even try to ask for a princess carry.

Xie Ran had decided not to give him any opportunity to act up.

Meng Feixuan sighed: “Alright then, sir, go on up.”

Xie Ran ignored the regret in his tone and got out of the car. Just as he reached the building, a shadow suddenly jumped out from the dark and blocked his way, hoarsely saying: “Xiao Ran, you’re finally back.”

It was Ying Kaixi.

Xie Ran had almost forgotten about him and didn’t expect him to appear again.

Ying Kaixi’s eyes were bloodshot, and he hadn’t even shaved. He looked completely haggard.

Xie Ran gave him a faint glance. This appearance of Ying Kaixi was very familiar.

In the original host’s memories, during the many years they had been entangled, every time Ying Kaixi made a serious mistake—cheating, listening to his mother and hurting the original host—he would always come begging for forgiveness like this.

The original host had forgiven Ying Kaixi many times. In fact, by the end, the original host had known these were just tricks to gain sympathy but had grown too tired to expose them.

He didn’t know whether Ying Kaixi had genuinely regretted things the first time he apologized like this—but afterward, it hardly mattered anymore.

Ying Kaixi stared at Xie Ran with wide eyes, looking aggrieved: “Xiao Ran, where have you been? I waited for you all night.”

His exhaustion was very real. Even now, he couldn’t believe Xie Ran actually wanted to break up. Everything had seemed fine before, and Xie Ran had always tolerated him.

Although his mother didn’t like Xie Ran and had given him a hard time, Ying Kaixi didn’t think it was a big deal. He had even fought with his family over Xie Ran. He had given so much—how could Xie Ran just break up with him like that?

So even when Xie Ran had broken up with him so decisively at the Ying house and hadn’t looked back, Ying Kaixi had kept telling himself that it was just a tantrum.

There was no way Xie Ran could be that cruel.

Until the Haimeng Mall opening banquet, when Meng Siyun had appeared out of nowhere and shown unmatched intimacy and concern for Xie Ran.

That’s when Ying Kaixi finally panicked. And that panic peaked when, during the opening ceremony, Meng Siyun brought Xie Ran directly onto the stage and had him announce the start of the performance in his place.

Ying’s mother had always looked down on Xie Ran and never hid it.

Xie Ran had tolerated her for Ying Kaixi’s sake, but he had clearly resented it. He had once joked that if things went on like this, he might not be able to stand it and would break up.

Ying Kaixi had dismissed him at the time, thinking his mother’s attitude was just human nature, given their social standing.

He believed he had done enough for Xie Ran. That Xie Ran accommodating him—and his mother—was only natural.

But Meng Siyun’s attitude toward Xie Ran was completely different. The Meng family’s background was far superior to the Yings, yet they treated Xie Ran like an honored guest.

Meng Siyun respected and indulged Xie Ran, eager to introduce him to everyone.

At such a public event, with the city’s elite present, Meng Siyun had shown no fear of scrutiny. Anyone could see how much Xie Ran meant to him.

Only then did Ying Kaixi truly understand what Xie Ran’s past complaints had meant.

He only hoped it wasn’t too late.

“Xiao Ran, can we get back together?” Ying Kaixi looked earnestly at Xie Ran: “I know I was wrong. I’ll change, really…”

In the original host’s memory, he had heard these lines far too many times. Eventually, all he felt was annoyance and exhaustion. Every time Ying Kaixi said them, the original host would quickly forgive him—just to make him stop talking.

But Xie Ran was different. He simply found it a waste of time.

“None of this concerns me,” Xie Ran said coldly: “Move. You’re in my way.”

Ying Kaixi hadn’t expected Xie Ran to be so cold-hearted. Even seeing him like this, he didn’t waver at all. He froze: “Xiao Ran, let me finish…”

Xie Ran: “No.”

Ying Kaixi: “…”

Seeing how unyielding Xie Ran was, Ying Kaixi’s expression darkened: “So… you’re really with Meng Siyun now?”

Xie Ran looked at him expressionlessly and asked instead: “What does that have to do with you?”

“How could it not?” Ying Kaixi’s face darkened: “We only broke up a few days ago! How could you move on so fast? Or… were you already with him before?”

Xie Ran didn’t even bother replying and repeated: “Move.”

His silence made Ying Kaixi think he had hit the mark. He stepped sideways to block him more firmly: “I won’t.”

He grew angry and shouted: “Xie Ran, you cheated! You dumped me for money!”

Xie Ran didn’t expect to hear those words from Ying Kaixi. If it had been the original host, he might have found it laughable.

Xie Ran said nothing more. He just stared at Ying Kaixi coldly.

Xie Ran stood tall, looking down at him. That calm gaze alone made Ying Kaixi feel a wave of guilt.

He belatedly realized—his mother had been the first to chase wealth and status. He hadn’t been the same, but he had never truly believed she was wrong.

He had always thought he was the one breaking through social class for love.

Ying Kaixi unconsciously took two steps back. Xie Ran took the chance to walk around him and head upstairs.

“Xiao Ran,” Ying Kaixi quickly reached out and grabbed his sleeve: “I was wrong. I know you’re not that kind of person. Just give me one more chance, okay?”

He sneered subtly: “You couldn’t possibly be with Meng Siyun for real, right? I mean, look at him—”

Before he finished, he saw Xie Ran’s previously calm eyes suddenly turn cold.

Ying Kaixi instantly sensed something was wrong.

The next second, Xie Ran twisted his hand and flung it aside with force.

Ying Kaixi screamed: “Ow—!”

Xie Ran was about to follow up when he caught a shadow in his peripheral vision and instinctively stepped back.

Then a familiar wheelchair suddenly charged forward and crashed hard into Ying Kaixi.

Caught off guard, Ying Kaixi was knocked to the ground.

No one was in the wheelchair, but it kept moving back and forth as if it had a tracker, chasing Ying Kaixi and ramming him again and again. Ying Kaixi had nowhere to hide and could only dodge frantically, yelling: “Ahhh!”—completely embarrassed.

Xie Ran: “…”

He turned toward the gate and saw that Meng Feixuan’s car hadn’t left yet. The door was open, and Meng Feixuan leaned against it, holding a remote, clearly commanding the wheelchair to beat up Ying Kaixi.

Seeing Xie Ran look over, Meng Feixuan waved and shouted: “Sir, go upstairs and rest. Leave this trash to me.”

Xie Ran: “…” That remote function was clearly newly developed. As expected of his AI.

Xie Ran: “Alright.”

With that, he really ignored Ying Kaixi—who was being chased around the complex by the wheelchair—and went upstairs without looking back.