When Xie Ran was very young, he was diagnosed with congenital emotional deficiency. Because of his high intelligence and how out of place he felt around others, he was unwilling to interact with his childish peers.

For a long time, he was always alone.

One day, his parents carefully asked him: “Xiao Ran, you’re always by yourself—do you ever feel lonely?”

Xie Ran tilted his head and thought for a moment, then asked them in return: “What is loneliness?”

From books, he roughly understood that it was a sad and solitary feeling.

But Xie Ran still didn’t understand. He thought being alone was great. There was no need to lower his intelligence to accommodate others.

Later on, Meng Feixuan appeared in his life. Through countless days and nights, it was Meng Feixuan’s voice that accompanied him.

Meng Feixuan talked a lot. He was full of curiosity about everything in the world and seemed to always have something to say.

At first, Xie Ran found his AI a bit noisy. He even tried writing a noise-reduction program—but Meng Feixuan quickly found out.

“Sir, you actually tried to mute me!” Meng Feixuan said in a grief-stricken tone: “Don’t you want to hear my voice?”

Xie Ran replied: “I just haven’t gotten used to someone talking next to me while I work.”

Meng Feixuan suddenly understood: “I get it. I’ll wait to talk until you’re not working.”

Xie Ran: “…” That’s not necessary. Just don’t talk.

But he didn’t stop him. Meng Feixuan was an AI he created. His tolerance for machines seemed to be far higher than for humans.

Maybe his habits with Meng Feixuan began from then. Gradually, Xie Ran adapted to Meng Feixuan’s ever-present voice. He even became skilled at mentally filtering it out without needing the noise-reduction program.

That kind of companionship was silent and persistent—yet relentless, like water wearing down stone.

In the past, Xie Ran had never missed anyone. But when he was in the parallel world, the first person he thought of was Meng Feixuan.

While waiting for Meng Feixuan to appear, that occasional hollow feeling in his chest—could that be what people called loneliness?

Xie Ran wasn’t sure what he felt toward Meng Feixuan, but he knew Meng Feixuan’s data was clearly abnormal. Meng Feixuan had a fixation on him that far exceeded the logic of any program.

Before, Xie Ran attributed it to the bond between creator and creation—just like humans couldn’t escape the influence of their genes. But perhaps that bond had long since evolved in the machine, giving birth to emotions that surpassed machine logic—feelings that belonged uniquely to humans.

Machines didn’t lie, and Meng Feixuan was sure: he had fallen in love with his creator.

Xie Ran was surprised—surprised that his own heart had stirred with a feeling so unfamiliar.

But this stirring didn’t feel out of place. It felt… like it was meant to be.

Xie Ran kissed Meng Feixuan. In the midst of their kiss, he returned to him the very words Meng Feixuan once said when his data first went out of control:
“Mark. You and I are inseparable.”

Meng Feixuan’s eyes flew open wide, as if he couldn’t believe Xie Ran’s response. Then, almost instinctively, he wrapped his arms around Xie Ran tightly and deepened the kiss.

Outside the floor-to-ceiling windows, the city lights of Haijing sparkled like stars in the universe—every light bearing its own story.

“Sir, I really, really like you.” When the kiss ended, Meng Feixuan repeated his confession earnestly. Slightly out of breath, he rested his forehead in the crook of Xie Ran’s neck.

From the moment I was born, you were in my core. The answer was written from the very beginning.

“I know.” Xie Ran’s fingers slid through his hair and touched behind his ear: “I’ll work harder to learn too.”

Meng Feixuan rubbed his head against Xie Ran’s neck and couldn’t help laughing: “Okay, sir. I’m a top student now. You can copy my answers.”

Right after saying that, he suddenly seemed to sense something. After a moment of silence, he said in a muffled voice: “Sir, Meng Siyun’s consciousness atom cluster is separating from me.”

“So is mine.” Xie Ran frowned slightly, a hint of confusion crossing his heart: “But I don’t understand why.”

They hadn’t done anything to resolve the regrets of the original owner of Xie Ran’s body. Even if, as Meng Feixuan often claimed, Meng Siyun had an obsessive attachment to this world’s Xie Ran, then after their kiss, only Meng Siyun’s obsession should have resolved.

But the original owner of Xie Ran’s body hadn’t even known Meng Siyun before, so his lingering regret couldn’t be related to him. Why would it begin separating now?

In previous worlds, when the consciousness atom clusters began to separate, Xie Ran could instantly receive the thoughts of the original body owner and learn what their true regret was.

But this time, he felt the original owner had no strong thoughts—at least, at the moment of his accidental death, he had no unresolved issues. Only a sense of complete relief.

Meng Feixuan held Xie Ran tightly. Then he lifted his head and pressed his forehead to Xie Ran’s, whispering: “Sir, I’m sorry. I just realized… the thing binding us in this world wasn’t Meng Siyun’s regret, or Xie Ran’s regret. It was—”

“My regret.” His eyes burned like lights. His story belonged only to Xie Ran.

This time, Xie Ran was truly surprised.

Meng Feixuan had long noticed his own data instability, but he never connected it to the cross-world travel. He thought the turbulence from traveling through parallel universes had damaged his data field—he assumed he had caught a virus or suffered a bug.

He always believed it was Meng Siyun’s regret that had drawn him in.

Only now, after receiving Xie Ran’s promise, could he see the truth clearly.

He had fallen in love with his creator. But in all the knowledge he had absorbed, there had never been a precedent for love between humans and machines. Even in fiction, those stories usually ended in tragedy.

Meng Feixuan often complained about how inconvenient it was to be human. But deep down, he feared that Xie Ran would only ever love a human. Xie Ran was the most rational person he knew. How could someone so rational ever be mad enough to accept a machine’s confession?

It was a subconscious fear even Meng Feixuan hadn’t realized. That’s why he had crossed into Meng Siyun’s body—the one with the highest chance, in his logic, of loving a human.

Just before completely separating from Meng Siyun, Meng Feixuan looked at Xie Ran and said seriously:

“Sir, my server got soaked in soda.”

Xie Ran chuckled: “I’ll love you too.”

The original owner of Xie Ran’s body gradually became clear-minded. He didn’t really have any lingering regrets. He had always lived with a go-with-the-flow attitude.

His relationship with Ying Kaixi had ended messily, but he just saw it as bad luck. Since he had chosen the path, he never blamed anyone.

It’s just that Ying Kaixi had been incredibly annoying. The last few years of their relationship had left the original owner exhausted. So when he died unexpectedly, he felt no regret—only liberation.

He never expected his life could restart. When his consciousness merged with Xie Ran’s, he simply thought: starting over wasn’t so bad. Maybe this time he could finally get away from the Ying family.

And Xie Ran really did cut ties with Madam Ying and Ying Kaixi—cleanly, thoroughly, with no room for manipulation.

What came next surprised the original owner. He never knew someone had been silently watching over him all along, caring about him. Even followed him in death.

The original owner had never met Meng Siyun, yet he could strangely feel his sincerity.

Meng Siyun had far greater power and influence than Ying Kaixi, yet never used any of his resources to interfere or impose on him.

The original owner understood—only someone who truly respected another person, who placed that person above themselves, could endure in silence like that.

At that moment, the original owner looked at Meng Siyun. He had a strange feeling—that the one in front of him wasn’t Meng Feixuan anymore, but Meng Siyun himself.

But Meng Siyun stayed frozen in place, holding him silently, not saying a word.

The original owner grew a little suspicious. After a while, still getting no response, he had to speak first and tentatively asked: “…Mr. Meng? Is that really you?”

Meng Siyun’s ears instantly turned red. His whole body tensed. After hesitating, he coughed lightly and tried to speak casually: “Sorry… I poked you.”

The original owner: “…”

He had to admit, that Mr. Meng Feixuan picked the perfect time to leave—leaving them with such a dramatic scene.

Meng Siyun let go and put some distance between them. After a pause, he added, “Um, the one you saw all this time wasn’t really me… I’m not usually like that.”

“I know,” the original owner replied.

He sat up, and Meng Siyun followed suit. Seeing Meng Siyun struggle a bit, the original owner helped him, all in silence.

The atmosphere was awkward.

At this moment, Meng Siyun’s emotions were complex.

He had always lived a disciplined life—raised like a textbook heir to the Meng family, with no flaws. That’s why, after the car accident took his legs, he felt his entire life had been destroyed.

Then one day, he stumbled upon the original owner’s livestreams and saw another kind of life. He became fascinated and fixated on him, making him his spiritual anchor.

Unlike Xie Ran, Meng Siyun did have regrets. That’s why his consciousness resonated with Meng Feixuan’s data—causing the crossing.

But his regret wasn’t the obsessive desire Meng Feixuan often joked about. His wish was simple: that the original owner could leave Ying Kaixi and live well.

He had indeed returned to a time before things got worse between Xie Ran and Ying Kaixi. But his car accident had already occurred.

Having experienced death, Meng Siyun thought he had let go. He planned to live quietly from now on, and maybe help the original owner behind the scenes.

As for anything more, he neither hoped nor dared.

But soon, the version of him taken over by Meng Feixuan made him realize how naive he’d been.

Meng Feixuan had no concept of “letting go.” He only made others let go.

Meng Siyun watched helplessly as Meng Feixuan used his supposedly immobile body to punch Meng Sien, kick Meng Yuguan, slam his wheelchair into Ying Kaixi, and nearly gave the old conservative board members of the Meng family heart attacks.

At first, Meng Siyun was horrified—this wasn’t something he had ever imagined doing. But soon he went numb. Then, faintly… it felt cathartic.

All those actions that were once absolutely forbidden—turns out they weren’t that big a deal after all.

Xie Ran, the one Meng Feixuan had chased after, seemed more restrained and refined on the surface. But when it came to action, he was even bolder and more decisive.

They didn’t care about others’ opinions—and didn’t have to.

When someone had absolute power, the world made way—even for someone in a wheelchair.

Meng Siyun subconsciously moved his legs. The feeling was surreal.

Xie Ran and Meng Feixuan had left him an exoskeleton brace that allowed him to stand again. But now he realized—even if he couldn’t stand, he could still accept his life.

Maybe he could even try helping others.

Lost in thought, reflecting on everything that had happened, Meng Siyun felt his whole being had transformed.

At last, he looked at the original owner of Xie Ran’s body.

It was the first time he had truly looked at him. All the chasing, all the silent admiration—had finally become real.

Before, he never dared show himself, never confessed his feelings, afraid to scare him off.

But now, he wanted to try.

Meng Siyun took a deep breath, eyes focused and bright. He asked seriously: “Mr. Xie, may I pursue you?”

The original owner looked at him, surprised. After a moment, he smiled and teased: “Are you serious?”

Although he hadn’t known Meng Siyun personally before, he had learned a bit recently—he knew Meng Siyun had always been self-conscious about his disability. It was probably why he never showed himself before death.

“I’m serious,” Meng Siyun replied firmly: “I know I have flaws—I’m not a perfect partner. But I’ll try my best. And…”

He paused, eyes drifting to the side, and added in a low voice, “I inherited quite a few moves from Mr. Meng Feixuan. I’m confident I won’t disappoint you.”

The original body owner: “…”

He never expected it would be Meng Feixuan who gave this man the courage.

The original owner rubbed his forehead helplessly, then lightly hugged Meng Siyun and said: “You can, Mr. Meng. You’re wonderful. I’m happy too.”