August was drawing to a close, but the heat of high summer lingered.

The climate in S City was malicious; the winters here were bone-chillingly damp, and the summers brought stifling, airless heat.

Of course, for Brother Jue, who spent long hours in air-conditioned rooms and rarely went out, these things hardly mattered...

Recently, besides keeping busy in-game, Feng Bujue's life had gradually become more eventful. After all, with an uninvited "roommate" in the house, some lifestyle changes were inevitable.

Also, the creation of his long novel, *The Two Ends of Nightmare*, had entered its final stages. As someone with an almost morbid obsession with his work... Brother Jue always fell into an extremely slow and agonizing creative state before finishing a long piece; a chapter that he could normally write in an hour might take him a whole day at this stage.

At times like these, he would always remember Chuck's (the original prophet in *Supernatural*, who recorded the protagonists' experiences as a novelist) line near the end of season five—Endings are hard. Anything’s possible as a beginning. But endings… endings have to be earned. You gotta make sure all the loose ends are tied up, all the stories are told, and people aren’t left hanging. But the truth is, the moment the story’s told, it sets you free. People will leave, find other stories. Other people. So you can go anywhere, do anything, be anyone.

Feng Bujue deeply agreed with this, except... the most persistent, bitchy, picky, demanding, and never-satisfied fan of his work... was himself.

An extremely narcissistic creator with perfectionist tendencies could easily fall into a never-ending state of "self-torture." Often, such people didn't really care what others thought; they were usually driven crazy by themselves...

...

Tap tap tap tap...

On the morning of September 3rd, Feng Bujue sat at his computer, rapidly typing away.

His face was solemn, his fingertips danced, his eyes were fixed on the screen, his mind a million miles away.

Finally, after several hours of focused work, he let out a long breath...

"Phew..." Feng Bujue saved the document, stretched, picked up the cup of cold coffee from his desk, and stood up, taking a sip.

"Pfft..." As soon as he turned around, he spat the coffee back into the cup.

"Hey, hey... Guild Leader, isn't that disgusting?" Xiao Ling, who was eating snacks on the sofa, immediately looked at Brother Jue with a disgusted expression.

"Well..." Ruoyu added coldly from the side, "At least he didn't spit it directly on the floor or someone's face."

At this moment, Feng Bujue looked around and saw that Ruoyu, Xiao Ling, Xiao Tan, Bao Qing, and An Yueqin were all sitting on the living room sofa, chatting and laughing while watching the home theater. Judging by the number of drinks and discarded fruit peels on the coffee table... they had been here for at least an hour.

"When did you guys get in?" Brother Jue was shocked. "How did I not notice at all?"

"The Earth's rotation must have distracted you," Ruoyu immediately retorted expressionlessly.

It had to be said, that was a very high-level jab. But among the "people" present, only she, Brother Jue, and Arthas beside him got the joke.

"Heh..." Feng Bujue rarely got burned like that, he responded with a forced laugh, then joined his friends. "I seem to remember... today is 'Bad Movie Marathon Day,' right?"

"Yeah, we've already finished one," Xiao Tan replied.

"Speaking of which..." Brother Jue continued, "This was originally supposed to be a gathering for us three brothers, right? How did the number of people increase so much..."

"Hmm?" The next second, Ruoyu cast a sharp glance.

"I came to accompany my boyfriend, is that not allowed?" Xiao Ling grabbed Xiao Tan's arm and looked at Brother Jue with dead fish eyes, and said unhappily.

"I came to urge you to write, do you have a problem with that?" An Yueqin also replied with a similar threatening expression.

Hearing this, Feng Bujue hesitated for two seconds, then looked at Ruoyu, Xiao Ling, and Miss An respectively, and said three short phrases, "Oh, okay, no problem..."

...

In the next few tens of minutes, Feng Bujue seemed a little absent-minded.

It wasn't that he was unhappy, he just couldn't help but start thinking about life...

Five months ago, he was still living a nocturnal, irregular life. A disordered biological clock, terrible eating habits, a lack of exercise, an unknown and untreated "disease," etc... all pieced together to form a man who was incredibly negative about life.

And five months later, Feng Bujue was living a life of early to bed and early to rise, a healthy and positive life... he had a cat in his house, and a woman he cared about; in both the virtual and real worlds, his social circle had expanded more than tenfold; another of his close friends seemed about to step into the prison of marriage; his understanding of the supernatural world had also undergone a qualitative leap in both theoretical and practical fields...

Looking back... Feng Bujue realized that he had changed. The gray tones of his life seemed to have gained a few other colors, and he was submerged and immersed in the noise before him...

Thinking of this, he suddenly realized that this real world was not so "boring," "uninteresting," "despairing and disgusting" after all. Because the world itself did not carry any emotional color.

To hate or love life... was always just a subjective choice and experience of human beings. If there was any objectively existing pain in this world, it was caused by the influence between people.

...

As dusk approached, everyone had left.

In the house, only Feng Bujue and Li Ruoyu remained.

At six thirty, Brother Jue had prepared three dishes and a soup, and Ruoyu had cleaned up the house.

They sat across from each other at the table, dining in the afterglow of the setting sun.

As usual, they didn't talk much while eating, just ate silently.

"Hmm..." Suddenly, Feng Bujue put down his chopsticks, swallowed the food in his mouth, and said, "There's something I want to ask you."

"Speak." Ruoyu didn't realize what he was going to ask, so she just responded casually.

"Can you... try... dating me?" Feng Bujue asked the other party a question in a tone that could be described as difficult.

In that instant, the expression on Li Ruoyu's face and the movements of her hands froze simultaneously.

Then, there was nearly twenty seconds of silence.

Those twenty seconds felt like a lifetime to Feng Bujue...

Twenty seconds later, she looked up at him, maintaining her usual composure and coldness, and gave a brief answer: "Okay."