[1. Children]
Jiang Lian wasn't the least bit surprised by Zhou Jiao's answer.
If she'd said yes, he would've had a contingency plan anyway:
He'd send every last child on that planet out of the galaxy—as far away as possible.
There was absolutely no way he was sharing Zhou Jiao with them.
Still, in a calm, matter-of-fact tone, he added—mostly just to flex his reproductive capabilities:
"Not you. I'd be the one giving birth."
Zhou Jiao: "...Yeah, I know you're... very fertile."
She pressed a palm to her twitching brow, feeling herself being dragged into his bizarre logic. Gritting her teeth, she said,
"Doesn't matter how fertile you are. I don't want kids. Taking care of you and this whole pile of eldritch nonsense is already enough. Don't go inventing new ways to mess with me."
She stepped into the house and gave a mild kick to one of the tentacles on the floor.
"Clean this up."
Jiang Lian was already used to her cold face and warm heart.
He didn't mind that she barked orders at him, or that she occasionally kicked him for no reason.
She loved him so much. He was more than willing to indulge her.
Obediently, he retracted the tentacles.
On the surface, the black-red limbs, like some cold, viscous bio-matter, flowed smoothly back into his body.
In truth, they never really left. Like air, they still quietly filled every corner of the villa.
Jiang Lian sat down to watch TV while keeping mental tabs on Zhou Jiao's every movement.
Lately, just hugging or kissing her wasn't enough.
That old, restless feeling was creeping back in. The one that used to drive him half-mad.
Just one look at her made his heart twist with hollow ache—he wanted her so much.
But no. He had to wait. She hadn't said she loved him yet.
Zhou Jiao insisted on going to work.
And forbade him from tagging along.
So all he could do was stay home and kill time with television.
His human "common sense" database told him that people had lots of talk shows.
After filtering out the fake, the dramatic, and the staged, he actually found a few pretty informative.
Today, he saw a host say that declining birthrates weren't just about pollution hurting fertility—they were also linked to rising education levels among women.
The host predicted that soon, pregnancies would be replaced by external womb technology.
In this future, women wouldn't have to suffer through childbirth, and governments wouldn't need to worry about tanking birthrates.
The statement set the internet ablaze.
Sure, on the surface, it sounded progressive—like a solution made for humanity's future.
But anyone who thought it through saw the flaws instantly.
If babies were gestated outside the body, corporations could tamper with embryos from the moment of conception.
Would those children even be genetically related to their supposed parents?
Gene editing and genome forgery were already frighteningly advanced.
And even if genes weren't actually modified, one word from the corporation could falsify test results.
So what's the difference?
This wasn't a leap forward for humanity.
It was anti-human propaganda wrapped in utopian packaging.
The backlash online was ferocious. People cursed the host, the company, the whole system.
Jiang Lian wasn't online.
All he heard was the first half of the segment:
"Fertility in the general population is dropping due to pollution."
Zhou Jiao hadn't fallen in love with him yet.
So he had to constantly remind her of his strengths, so that one day, when she was ready to love him, she could think of all the reasons why.
Hence the earlier conversation.
He didn't even like children.
But Zhou Jiao had to know—her partner possessed one of the strongest reproductive capacities in the universe.
[2. Illness]
Zhou Jiao had no idea that Jiang Lian was feeling smug about his fertility.
After her bath, while toweling off her hair, she was suddenly gripped by a bone-deep chill.
That was rare.
Ever since her body had been modified, she hadn't been sick once.
But now, it felt like a fever—an icy one.
Perplexed, she mentally retraced her day.
2:30 p.m., she'd been working in the lab, handling a batch of extraterrestrial organisms.
But her protection protocols were airtight. Full decon on entry and exit—zero risk of exposure.
And even if those creatures did carry an unknown virus, it didn't mean it could bind to human cell receptors.
Zhou Jiao waited a while. The chills didn't return. So she put it out of her mind.
But come evening, it hit her again.
This time, she checked her temperature: 38.5°C (101.3°F). A definite fever.
Ever since Jiang Lian took over biotech operations, she'd permanently disabled her chip's biometric monitoring.
If it were still active, it would've flagged her at 37°C.
Why was she running a fever now?
She was confused.
And honestly, if she really were sick, Jiang Lian should've noticed before she did.
Puzzled and exhausted, she curled up in bed.
She took some fever meds, drifting in and out of consciousness, burning and sweating one moment, shivering the next.
Just as she was about to fall asleep—
Jiang Lian slipped under the covers beside her.
His body was always cold.
Damp, bone-deep cold.
He wrapped around her like an octopus, pulling her tight into his arms.
Zhou Jiao's scalp prickled instantly.
It felt like being skinned alive and thrown into an ice cellar—like every organ inside her was exposed to that eerie chill.
And yet... she craved it.
Despite her bones practically rattling from the cold, she wanted him to hold her tighter.
Her uncharacteristic clinginess caught Jiang Lian's attention.
He frowned and tilted her face up with two fingers under her jaw.
Her eyes were glassy, lips slightly parted—
A flower on the verge of drying out, parched and trembling.
He pried open her mouth with his knuckles and tested the roof of her mouth.
Fever-hot. Unnaturally so.
But that made no sense.
She couldn't have a fever.
She'd consumed part of his tentacle biomass.
That made her, in some sense, part of him.
Under his protection, she couldn't fall ill.
Couldn't die.
Couldn't be infected or corrupted by any known lifeform.
She couldn't even be harmed by him.
Because of the overwhelming disparity between them, he'd imposed a subconscious injury block on himself.
In human terms, it was a "restriction."
More precisely, it was a neural anchor—a failsafe that overrode even regret.
No matter what happened, no matter how long passed, no matter if he someday wished to take it back...
He couldn't hurt her.
Which meant:
Zhou Jiao now existed above him.
So how could she possibly be sick?
Jiang Lian's thoughts turned to that mysterious "Wordless Book"—
The one responsible for anchoring him into this human form.
After taking over biotech, he'd obtained it.
The original goal was to learn about his origins.
But honestly, aside from Zhou Jiao, nothing interested him.
Not even himself.
He laid a cool hand against her burning forehead and opened the book.
Lu Zehou had once said it contained no text, but could interface directly with consciousness.
That wasn't quite accurate.
The "words" existed in another dimension, one that aligned perfectly with conscious thought.
And now, Jiang Lian found the answer.
Zhou Jiao wasn't sick.
She'd been transformed—into his species' biological female.
His species had a complicated origin the book could hardly explain.
But they reproduced.
And so they had sexes.
Not based on biology—
But based on the partner's preferences.
He retained a male form because Zhou Jiao preferred men.
Her personal tastes had shaped everything about him:
His sharper-than-average jawline, more prominent Adam's apple, unusually long and slender fingers.
As the "female," Zhou Jiao's outward appearance wouldn't change—
After all, in nature, it's always the male that adapts to attract the female.
But she would become sensitive to his pheromones.
Simply put—
Right now, she was desperate for his scent.
The thought that Zhou Jiao now craved his pheromones as badly as he craved her...
Jiang Lian's heart began to race.
From scalp to spine, a tingling surge like static electricity pulsed through him.
A high-voltage jolt of pure, unfiltered satisfaction.
[3. A Few Minutes]
Jiang Lian told Zhou Jiao about the matter.
Zhou Jiao fell silent.
Jiang Lian assumed she didn't want to smell him or taste his saliva. Grabbing her by the chin and forcing her to look at him, he asked coldly:
"Didn't you say you liked me, even if just a little? Not willing to do even this?"
Maybe it was the influence of his pheromones, but every movement of his — his shadowy gaze, his damp breath, his cold fingers, even the purely ornamental gold-rimmed glasses on his nose — made her heart race.
…She really did feel a twisted, obsessive urge to pounce on him like a cat on catnip.
Zhou Jiao tilted her head and rubbed her flushed cheek against his icy palm.
Jiang Lian's fingers trembled.
Zhou Jiao whispered, "I never said I wouldn't… I was just thinking — isn't it kind of boring to only have saliva?"
Jiang Lian paused.
A moment later, he raised a finger and dabbed a drop of fresh blood on her lips.
Zhou Jiao: "…That's not what I meant. Look down."
But Jiang Lian didn't move. "You haven't answered my question — didn't you say you liked me, even if just a little? You can't even admit that now?"
Zhou Jiao shook her head. "I stopped liking you a long time ago."
His fingers tightened instantly, nearly leaving bruises on her jaw.
Zhou Jiao pulled his hand away and muttered, "Even kids know that's a rhetorical setup… Why are you so anxious?"
Jiang Lian stared at her intently.
Logically, he knew the second half of her sentence would turn everything around — that she'd say she liked him a lot, maybe even that she loved him.
Still, panic surged through him.
If you truly love someone, their words can completely throw you off balance.
Especially when you're not the one in control.
She held the reins.
And he, the one bound by them, could only follow her lead.
Jiang Lian gripped her hand, entwining their fingers with a pressure sharp enough to pierce her skin. "Go on. I'm not in a rush."
But Zhou Jiao could tell — he was practically frantic.
She decided not to tease him anymore. Smiling, she said:
"There's something I've never told you. Only you can stir up all my emotions… Every time I get excited, every time my heart races, even when I'm scared — it's all because of you."
"How could I not fall in love with you?" she gazed at him with eyes full of misty light, then tilted her head and kissed the back of his hand, whispering, "…Jiang Lian, I've fallen in love with you."
Jiang Lian wanted to caress her cheek, but her kiss pinned his hand in place.
Invisible flames spread from her lips to the back of his hand, then all the way up to his ears.
He didn't need a mirror — he could feel it. His ears, cheeks, neck… all burning red.
She loved him.
She said she couldn't help but love him.
Not a lie. Not flattery. Not coercion.
She genuinely believed she was fated to fall for him.
Jiang Lian's face remained cold, but his heart pounded wildly.
Thump, thump, thump.
Three hearts beat furiously — the entire villa seemed to echo with his pulse.
She loves him.
She loves him.
She loves him…
His expression turned dark. He unconsciously clenched her fingers so tightly they cracked.
Zhou Jiao winced. "Ow!"
Jiang Lian immediately let go and leaned close to her ear. "Then does that mean… we can mate now?"
Zhou Jiao was genuinely stunned this time.
She blinked and went, "Ah—You know about that?"
"Know about what?"
Zhou Jiao tilted her head but didn't answer.
She wrapped one arm around his neck. Her other hand remained under the blanket.
Jiang Lian froze.
His hypersensitive senses amplified every sound and sensation.
Her pulse, her breathing, the heat of her skin… the rustle of her hair against the silk pillow…
It was bizarre — to crave heightened awareness, yet be forced to scatter his focus.
He heard someone a thousand meters away unlocking a door with an old-fashioned key. Click. The bolt snapped back.
His senses stretched further.
In a biotech lab ten kilometers away, a snake was strangling a white mouse. The prey twitched and died. The snake swallowed it whole.
The world around him burst into painful clarity.
A juice bar on the street corner. The gush of pulp in the blender. The briny sea breeze, the lapping of waves. The musty scent of mold in a slum after rain. Moths fluttering around a bare lightbulb.
Then, his eyes snapped open, pupils narrowing to slits.
The predator in him had always suppressed instinct.
But the prey — she — had deliberately loosened the rope around his neck, letting him follow his nature.
To hunt. To chase. To take control.
Countless tendrils surged from all directions — cold, wet, and greedy. They gripped her hands and ankles, drinking in the heat of her skin, pulling her down—
Together with him.
Falling in love with her had always been a descent.
From the dark, lifeless universe, down into the noisy, insignificant world of mortals.
For her, he had learned restraint. Learned patience. Learned guilt, fear, regret, jealousy…
And now, he had learned a kind of unholy lust.
Ten minutes later.
Zhou Jiao bit back a laugh. "...It's over already?"
Jiang Lian took a second to process her words.
Then stiffened again.
Zhou Jiao affectionately said, "It's okay. A few minutes is already impressive."
She would come to regret those words so many times.
If she had known every single tendril was actually—
She absolutely would have told him: A few minutes is normal. That's the standard.
The next day, her fever broke. She almost did too.
Sweat clung to her skin like sand. Her body was sticky with strange fluids. She went downstairs for a glass of water — only to find that her wrists and ankles were still held fast by Jiang Lian's tendrils.
Zhou Jiao: "…Don't you think this is enough?"
Jiang Lian seemed calm, but the veins in his neck were still bulging from excitement. "I can feel your emotions. You want me to hold onto you."
"…Can I at least have a drink of water?"
"I'll feed you," Jiang Lian replied.
His tendrils slithered downstairs, fetched a cup of water, and brought it to her lips.
Zhou Jiao: "…Fine."
In the end, it was her own fault for provoking him.
Whatever. She gave up, thinking, At least I kind of like it.
[4. Sincere]
After their relationship went public, Jiang Lian couldn't go anywhere without being hounded by reporters asking about Zhou Jiao.
He wanted to crush every journalist who uttered her name.
But at the same time, he secretly relished being publicly associated with her.
That is, until Zhou Jiao saw the interview recordings.
Reporter A: "What's your relationship with Miss Zhou Jiao?"
Jiang Lian glanced at the reporter.
Reporter A immediately broke into a cold sweat and began gagging.
Reporter B: "Are the rumors true? Are you and Zhou Jiao really dating?"
Outwardly, Jiang Lian's expression didn't change. But Zhou Jiao caught the subtle pleasure in his eyes.
He clearly enjoyed people calling her his girlfriend.
Sure enough, Reporter B didn't vomit — but he did get dizzy from mentioning her name.
Reporter C, with a sharp tongue, said: "Besides your education and title as a biotech CEO, your career is pretty unremarkable. Miss Zhou Jiao, on the other hand, has become the youngest senior researcher in the company through her own efforts. Don't you think… you're not good enough for her?"
Zhou Jiao felt a chill for Reporter C.
To her surprise, Jiang Lian didn't retaliate.
He stopped walking. His gaze behind the glasses turned cold and thoughtful.
For that one moment, Zhou Jiao could almost believe he was fully human.
A few seconds passed. Then he answered:
"I'm not good enough. If I didn't offer her a sincere heart, she might've never chosen me."
His answer was so honest that even the scathing Reporter C couldn't come up with a retort.
After a pause, he muttered, "…I wish you both happiness."
Jiang Lian stared at him intently and replied, even more sincerely, "Thank you."
Reporter C, the only one spared Jiang Lian's usual aura of mental collapse, still fled like the hounds of hell were at his heels.
Zhou Jiao, watching the video, was torn between laughter and being touched.
That night, lying in bed, she recalled the interview and gently stroked Jiang Lian's hair. "It's not like I'd never want you. I just would've strung you along for a bit first. You're so cute — and with a burning heart like that — how could I possibly say no?"
The adorable Jiang Lian looked at her for a moment, then suddenly said:
"I have three hearts."
Zhou Jiao: "…What?"
He wrapped a tendril around her wrist, pressed her hand down, and mimicked a certain green-tinted anime protagonist:
"Touch one, and I'll give you the other two too."
Zhou Jiao: "...Get lost."
(Volume I — Finished!)