<h4>Chapter 87 </h4>


    Mo Yi was taken aback.


    This suggestion left him momentarily stumped.


    —In many cultures, names signified ties and were endowed with special meanings. This was especially so in ultism, where real names had power and magic, and exposing one’s real name was equivalent to exposing one’s weakness.


    And naming something…was like binding the two with an invisible bond and responsibility.


    Mo Yi raised his gaze, carefully scrutinising the Mist, as if wanted to see through all the subtle expressions on his face.


    The Mist stared back calmly. His light-coloured grey eyes gleamed with a metallic texture in the sun, the expression on his face was sincere, as if what he just said was just an ordinary everyday question like ‘Where are we going to eat tonight?’


    Mo Yi frowned, tightening the corners of his lips. He felt that he was being absurd.


    Could it be that… he was just thinking too much?


    Mo Yi took a deep look at the Mist, ruminating, then asked hesitantly.


    “Are you sure… you want me to name you?”


    The Mist nodded, his light-coloured eyes staring intently at Mo Yi. “Why not?”


    Without waiting for Mo Yi to say something, the Mist continued speaking.


    “It’s just a title after all, isn’t it?


    Indeed, in a way, it was so.


    Mo Yi took a deep breath to clear out all the lingering thoughts in his mind, then nodded resignedly.


    “Sure, but you can’t nitpick.”


    The Mist took a step closer. He stood at the doorway and smiled at Mo Yi. “I won’t.”


    Mo Yi pulled his brows together in thought. His gaze lingered on the rays of morning light streaming into the room behind the Mist, and after a long moment, he raised his head.


    “A single word ‘Chen’. Is that fine with you?”


    Its intonation was the same as ‘morning’, and its original meaning was ‘Pris’.


    “It sounds good.”


    The Mist’s eyes narrowed slightly. The contours of his sharp profile were softened by the soft morning light. He continued, “What about the surname?”


    Mo Yi was troubled. A surname was a meaningful cultural symbol, and giving one randomly seemed inappropriate…


    He looked up at the Mist, then asked after giving it some thought.


    “What do you want as your surname?”


    The Mist replied without any hesitation. “Anything’s fine.”


    —Just as expected.


    But before Mo Yi could smile wryly and continue pondering, the Mist interrupted.


    “Are there any characters which left an impression on you?”


    Mo Yi froze in surprise, arching a brow. “What?”


    The Mist borated patiently, “If you really can’t decide, you could just use a character that you have a deep impression of as my surname.”


    Mo Yi pursed his lips. A gloomy look shed across his pale face, and he blinked, expertly hiding his emotions and schooling his expression back into one of peace and tranquillity.


    “Smell…”


    The Mist took a step forward. A smile appeared on his aggressive and handsome face. His eyshes were covered by the morning light, resembling ayer of gold sprinkled upon his cold and hard grey eyes.


    “Okay, from now on I will be called ‘Wen Chen’.”


    Mo Yi’s heart rate sped up. He calmly took a step back, pulling open the distance between them.


    He smiled, crinkling the corners of his dark eyes, then stretched his arm out,


    “Hello, this is the first time we are meeting like this. You can call me Mo Yi.”


    His outstretched arm stayed in mid-air, slender and pale, thin and good-looking.


    The Mist stared at Mo Yi. H’s breathing stagnated. The colour of his light grey pupils deepened slightly.


    He pursed his lips, then solemnly held Mo Yi’s palm. Their fingertips and the heel of their palms slowly ovepped, the points of contact warming up slightly.


    “Wen Chen…”


    His voice was slightly hoarse. His light-coloured eyes were bright and focused. The tips of his pale ears were stained with a bright blush.


    In the next few days which followed, Mo Yi lived ording to a schedule.


    Every day, he went to the fitness vi specially arranged by Jiang Yuanrou for two or three hours, epting the torture of Shen Lei’s friendship, then spent the remainder of his day holed up in the library.


    More specifically, Mo Yi spent a lot of his time in front of the wooden desk in the city library.


    He flipped through books in the knowledge fields which might be rted to the game, especially those rted to ult, religion and legends. Regardless of poprity or authenticity, he pulled every single one of these out from the dusty corners of the library.


    The lights overhead were bright and cold, fully illuminating the entire reading room.


    Mo Yi sat at a corner of the table. Several huge and heavy tomes scattered on the rest of the table, along with several unopened books stacked together.


    He looked down at the book in his hand.


    Thin and pale fingers were holding the yellowed corner of the page. His slender neck was bent, his quiet profile shrouded in half-shadows, his dark eyes focused on the books on the table as his eyes darted quickly through every line on the page.


    He focused nearly all of his attention on the book before him. The man was enveloped in an unapproachable air.


    Mo Yi turned to the next page.


    The slight rustling sound of the pages was quite obvious in the quiet library. Nevertheless, he raised his head slightly, then read down from the top of the page again.


    Suddenly, Mo Yi’s rapidly scanning eyes paused.


    He felt something gently scratching the back of his hand. It was soft, like a feather.


    Mo Yi was taken aback for a moment, but before he could react, he saw the screen of the mobile phone beside him light up by itself, and the keyboard on the screen was automatically typing.


    [Are you hungry?]


    Mo Yi nced at the dial on his wrist and btedly realised: it was 7:30 in the evening.


    Today he arrived at the library at one in the afternoon, and before he noticed it, more than six hours had passed.


    Only then did Mo Yi feel his empty stomach throbbing slightly, apanied by the dizziness of low blood pressure. But it was still within a tolerable range… After all, it was not umon for him to stay up for several days without rest when writing programmes, so he could easily ignore this level of difort.


    He nced at the open book in his hand with some struggle in his eyes, before his slender white fingers moved quickly on the screen.


    [It’s still okay.]


    [Will leave after reading this chapter.]


    The other party did not reply. The screen dimmed from inactivity, then wentpletely ck.


    Just when Mo Yi was about to continue devoting himself to the book again, suddenly, something hard was stuffed into the palm of his hand.


    The subtle sound of stic was quite distinct in the quiet library.


    Mo Yi was stunned. He opened his palm, only to see a piece of fruit candy lying in his palm. The brightly coloured and beautiful candy wrapper shone with a faint ss halo under the bright lights of the library.


    Fruit candy.


    He recalled the odd question and answer session between the two after the second instance, and couldn’t help but smile.


    Nimble fingers peeled off the candy wrapper. After a short crinkling of stic, the round candy within was revealed. It was a crystal clear pink under the light and a light fruit aroma emanated.


    Mo Yi stuffed the candy into his mouth. His cheeks swelled into a round shape, and there was a touch of approachability surfacing on his indifferent and pale face.


    A sweet taste instantly spread from the tip of his tongue, causing him to subconsciously squint his eyes, with a slight smile on his face.


    —Strawberry voured.


    Another half an hour passed.


    Mo Yi closed the book with some reluctance. He returned the books he had finished back onto the shelves and stacked the few he was nning to borrow under his arms, and strode towards the door of the library.


    Under the young librarian’s excited gaze which was full of admiration, Mo Yi deftly ced the books into his backpack, then promptly shot the librarian a courteous smile before leaving.


    Mo Yi subconsciously nced at his watch and resigned expression flitted across his face.


    He never thought that he would one day be able to achieve the achievement of working at sunrise and resting at sunset, let alone eating three meals a day regrly and even exercising every day.


    In addition to the supervision of Shen Lei and Wang Zezhi, the Mist—now called Wen Chen—had also made an indelible contribution.


    So, could he now be considered bound to an old nagging grandma?


    Mo Yi’s expression was a little pinched.


    However, fortunately, this old grandma was much easier to fool than Shen Lei and Wang Zezhi, otherwise it would be too ufortable to be surrounded by such a housekeeper who he could never easily be rid of.


    Just thinking of the ‘fitness meal’ that Shen Lei forced him to eat, as well as his rigorous fitness n, was enough to make Mo Yi’s muscles and joints start dully aching again. He sighed, then walked towards his apartment.


    The light in the corridor of the apartment was dim. Mo Yi lowered his head to find his key. The clinking sound of the metal sounded in the quiet corridor, followed by the opening of the door. Mo Yi changed his shoes at the entrance and walked in.


    .


    The main lights instantly illuminated the tidy and lifeless room when Mo Yi flicked it on.


    Mo Yi slid the key into the drawer at the doorway before entering the bathroom to wash his hands.


    The light streaming into the bathroom was promptly blocked by a tall figure.


    Mo Yi raised his head, only to see Wen Chen standing at the door. With the backlight, his deep contours of his face appeared blurred, and even his low and metallic voice sounded surprisingly soft.


    “What do you want to eat?”


    Mo Yi turned off the faucet and casually wiped his palms on a snow-white towel from the rack.


    He furrowed his brows and pondered for a while, then hesitantly answered:


    “Porridge…?”


    Wen Chen smiled. “Okay.”


    After speaking, he turned and left. The sound of his footsteps was reced by the tinkling of cooking utensils in the kitchen, adding a homely touch of life to the empty and cold room.


    Mo Yi left the bathroom, casually casting a nce towards the lit kitchen.


    Wen Chen’s tall figure shuffled under the light.


    Mo Yi’s expression was a littleplicated—could this be what it meant to have a caretaker?


    At this moment, the mobile phone in his pocket suddenly vibrated twice. Surprised, Mo Yi pulled it out and peered at the lit screen.


    It was a message from Jiang Yuanrou.


    [Do you have time?]