Chapter 25 part 1
◎ Oh No, the Guilt is Rising (Minor Edits) ◎
Room 1260.
The heavy curtains were drawn tight, sealing out every sliver of light from the outside world.
The room was swallowed by a thick darkness, so pitch-black you couldn’t even see your hand in front of your face.
Hua Yan was nestled comfortably in a single-seater sofa, scrolling through his phone. His long legs were crossed, and he took a sip of chilled animal blood from a wine glass.
He tasted it with disdain, frowning in dissatisfaction as he ran his tongue over his fangs.
The Administration Bureau assisted in providing “blood bags” through legitimate channels for supernatural creatures on the whitelist. To prevent vampires from getting bored with one type of blood and running off to hunt, they tried their best to offer variety: pig blood this time, sheep blood the next, then duck blood, and beef blood after that.
Thinking of this, Hua Yan ground his teeth in irritability. He wanted to tell them not to waste their effort. It was like forcing a human to eat surströmming (fermented herring) and then trying to comfort them with black caviar potato chips—both were inherently disgusting. Yet, across the species divide, the Bureau mistook the former two for something akin to luosifen (snail rice noodles) or stinky tofu—foods that looked unappealing but were irresistibly delicious.
Hua Yan: Communication is impossible. Tired.
He barely tolerated the earthy, strange taste of the duck blood and continued scrolling through his phone.
As a vampire keeping up with the times, he had integrated perfectly into human society, free from any species barrier or generation gap.
For example, right now, Hua Yan was happily scrolling through short videos.
As a member of the popular group Skye, his fans probably never imagined that Hua Yan had successfully turned all his social media accounts—including but not limited to TikTok, Bilibili, and Xiaohongshu (Little Red Book)—into a “Berlin App” thanks to the power of big data algorithms.
He sipped his “red wine” elegantly. In the dimly lit room, his magnificent and eerie blood-red pupils shone like iridescent rubies. The light from the phone screen illuminated his features, making him look like a pale, noble ghost in an ancient castle.
Hua Yan’s finger swiped down, and a new video appeared.
[@IceCreamConeEatenInOneBite: #Berlin15SecondsNoHeartbeatChallenge [Xiao Lin in Blue Knitwear]]——
With a speed of 0.00001 seconds—impossible for humans—Hua Yan tapped the like button without hesitation. The system’s processing speed wasn’t as fast as Hua Yan; it lagged for half a second before the red heart lit up.
After looping the twenty-second short video three times, Hua Yan skillfully opened the comments section to check the messages from fans with Berlin avatars, nodding in happy satisfaction as he read.
[Daily Dose of Xiao Lin: Wuwuwuwu so cute I’m dizzy, the sack in my hand is ready to go (peeking)]
Hua Yan: Like.
[Earth Without Xiao Lin is Boring: Ahhhhh fresh Xiao Lin! The pictures the OP chose are all my favorites 5555, Xiao Lin in motion is even more invincible than photoshopped pics, just watching puts me in an invincible spiral of good mood~]
Hua Yan: Like.
[What are you waiting for, eat Xiao Lin: It’s fluffy Xiao Lin! It’s Angel Xiao Lin in a soft blue sweater! Eaten by me in one bite! Ehehe, hehe, hehehehe [Obsessed Smile.jpg]]
Hua Yan (hand faster than brain): Finished reading the first sentence, Like. Saw “Angel Xiao Lin” clearly, Unlike.
He took a sip of duck blood unhappily, intending to dispel his displeasure, but was forced to take a deep breath due to the overwhelmingly disgusting earthy taste again: “…”
With a strong desire for revenge, Hua Yan disliked this comment and sneered: Berlin is unique and has nothing to do with trash like angels.
As if an angel deserves him. 🙂
He continued scrolling down the videos. There was a lot of new Berlin content every day. Hua Yan had been scrolling since returning to his room last night until now, watching fan edits all night long without reaching the end.
But there’s no such thing as too much good content—not only would Hua Yan not skip material he had seen eight hundred times, but he would also linger on each video for at least three loops. His gaze would slowly move from hair to eyes, then to nose, mouth, collarbone, and so on, appreciating every part before reluctantly scrolling to the next video. He would even dig out his favorites list from time to time to review.
Of course, he used a burner account to browse Berlin content. Besides watching Berlin’s solo edits, he also watched some CP (coupling) videos of Berlin and himself.
Hua Yan’s verified main account wasn’t updated often. He didn’t hide his homepage’s like history, and every single one was contributed to Berlin’s personal Douyin (TikTok) account.
Enjoying himself as he scrolled down, his finger suddenly paused, and he narrowed his eyes slightly: “…”
[@PuppyAndWolfEatingTogetherTodayqwq: #TogetherYaoBai# Cat and Dog [Video]].
Hua Yan looked at the stupid wolf passing by on the screen with an unhappy expression.
The photo was candidly taken from a passerby’s perspective. In the frame, Wu Hengyao and Berlin were eating fried chicken fingers. Each held a small paper bag, smiling foolishly at each other, both wearing expressions of immense enjoyment and happiness.
He paused on this scene for a long while, pondering when Wu Hengyao had gone out to eat with Berlin behind their backs.
He couldn’t remember. Hua Yan expressionlessly long-pressed the screen, and the system prompt automatically popped up. He was about to tap “Not Interested,” but stopped.
Immediately after, Hua Yan coldly went through the process of “Screenshot” — “Crop out Wu Hengyao, leaving only Berlin” — “Save to System Album,” and only then did he tap “Not Interested” with peace of mind.
Only after completing this series of operations did he let out a satisfied breath.
Unexpectedly, a voice came from not far in front of him the next second: “So it was you.”
Hua Yan slowly looked up, resting his cheek on his hand, and stared coldly and unhappily at Han Yuzhe, who had suddenly appeared: “Who allowed you to enter my room directly? Didn’t anyone tell you that not knocking is rude?”
Han Yuzhe lowered his brows and scoffed: “Have you been pretending to be human for so long that you’re actually talking to me about ‘manners’?”
The depths of his pitch-black eyes were dark as ink, and he spoke leisurely: “If we’re talking about being rude, you were rude first.”
Hua Yan frowned: “? What do you mean?”
Han Yuzhe, usually lazy, now looked like he was vaguely baring his fangs: “The soul mark I left on Berlin is gone. Did you do it?”
Hua Yan: “…”
He digested this information for a moment. First, he irritably placed the wine glass on the coffee table, then leaned forward, dangerously approaching Han Yuzhe with a heavy presence: “You broke the rules.”
A cold glint flashed across Hua Yan’s fangs: “We agreed not to make a move for the time being. You didn’t keep your promise. Do you want to start a war?”
Han Yuzhe didn’t seem to expect this reaction from Hua Yan and subconsciously frowned.
He muttered to himself: “True. My mark is carved on the soul. Logically, only I should be able to sense this connection… You couldn’t have discovered it.”
Hua Yan laughed as if out of anger: “Han Yuzhe, I can hear you.”
“Oh.” After ruling out Hua Yan as a suspect, Han Yuzhe returned to his usual careless, lazy demeanor. He explained good-naturedly: “I didn’t break my promise. You know, a demon’s promise is absolute.”
The dangerous aura around Hua Yan stagnated and instantly died down. He sat back, relaxed and uninterested: “Then what is this soul mark you’re talking about?”
Han Yuzhe put his hands in his coat pockets and said casually: “He just wanted me to help him keep out the cold.”
“But the problem is,” Han Yuzhe pursed his lips and lowered his eyes, “the mark I left was wiped away by someone.”
Hua Yan almost laughed out loud. He didn’t care in the slightest about the other’s disappointment and had no intention of comforting him: “So, you suspect it was me?”
He crossed his arms and looked at Han Yuzhe with disdain: “Obviously, it wasn’t me. If I found out you did something, I definitely wouldn’t just wipe it away and call it a day. You’d definitely get a beating.”
“…” Han Yuzhe looked at him calmly with a disapproving gaze. “Why would you think that?”
Hua Yan sneered: “Do you think I’d go easy on you because of ‘team camaraderie’?”
“No.” Han Yuzhe shook his head slowly, his eyes rippleless: “You can’t beat me.”
Hua Yan ground his fangs, exploding at the slightest provocation: “…Where do you get that confidence? Want to try?”
Han Yuzhe refused without hesitation: “No.”
Hua Yan leaned back on the sofa with satisfaction, raising an eyebrow provocatively: “Just say it if you’re scared.”
Han Yuzhe shook his head slowly: “Not scared. I don’t fight meaningless fights. Too tired.”
Hua Yan: “…”
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