Translator-Rhapsodite
Editor-Pierce, Proofreader-adjective
Witnessing the scenic brilliance before him—once he got drunk—was a first for Nan Zhou.
With the retro-industrial ambiance and the fusion of iridescent colors in the bar affecting him, Nan Zhou seemed to have overturned a plate of snacks.
He hadn’t seen such mesmerizing, and captivating, yet surreal blending of amorous colors.
He felt invigorated at the suddenly changed world in front of him as his fingertips stretched forward to touch this huge color palette with the world as its backdrop.
The accordionist seemed to be the first one to notice that he was behaving weirdly.
The accordion player pulled him by his shoulders with one hand and covered his tousled hair from behind with the other, pressing Nan Zhou’s head against his shoulder with a bit of force..
In a calm tone, he said to the crowd, “You guys want to go dancing?”
The man with the earrings held the board game cards he had just picked a while ago, appearing confused, “… Boss, our new game hasn’t started yet…”
Song Haining was especially polite, and immediately started collecting the cards from everyone’s hands, “You guys are bad at this game anyway.”
Thus, a group of people who arrived in haste, retreated in a hurry.
……
Jiang Fang couldn’t help but start laughing.
Holding Nan Zhou’s shoulders and clinging to his body, Jiang Fang could feel his body temperature rising rapidly.
The scent of booze that he lightly exhaled from his mouth and nose gently caressed the side of Jiang Fang’s neck.
The hot and supple body pressed against him felt amazing.
——He was drunk.
Jiang Fang just wanted to distract Nan Zhou with that joke, also to entice him to drink some alcohol so that he could moisten his lips and get into the mood.
Yet even after loosening a button, Nan Zhou was still a little too serious.
However, what happened before him wasn’t the result that Jiang Fang wanted.
Because it meant losing control.
Sober Nan Zhou still had a good grasp of control.
But the intoxicated Nan Zhou…
Driving Song Haining and the others away was also because Jiang Fang was afraid that Nan Zhou would suddenly behave violently which could lead to an uncontrollable and perilous situation.
Jiang Fang was already trying to get along with Nan Zhou without concealing a defensive dagger or taser on his body.
At present, however, he could only be sorry.
To show his sincere apologies, Jiang Fang decided he would suffer with him.
Jiang Fang tenderly held Nan Zhou’s head with one hand and rubbed it rhythmically to help him relax, while the other hand took out the taser from his storage and discreetly pressed it against his waist…
Suddenly, Nan Zhou’s fingertips brushed the back of his neck and stroked it lightly.
Such an itchy sensation made Jiang Fang’s body suddenly tighten.
——Was it some kind of warning?
Jiang Fang asked in a rather calm tone, “What are you doing?”
Nan Zhou’s voice was still cold and clear, “I’m painting you.”
Nan Zhou, “Don’t move.”
Nan Zhou, “It’s not easy for me to choose a color. If you move, the color will flee.”
Jiang Fang’s heart suddenly relaxed.
He couldn’t help but laugh at his own paranoia.
With his guard loosened, Jiang Fang’s voice followed a bit more naturally. “Why do you want to color me?”
“Because…”
Nan Zhou paused for a moment, trying to find a suitable sentence to describe him, “… You’re a soul without color.”
This was originally a drunken remark with little logic.
But Jiang Fang’s heart was inexplicably poked lightly.
Nan Zhou patted his shoulder in comfort. “Once I add color to you, you won’t be anymore.”
After speaking, he pushed Jiang Fang’s chest with one hand and said, “Forget it. It’s not convenient to dye you like this.”
With that decision, Nan Zhou sluggishly supported himself and was about to get up.
However, Jiang Fang—who was lost in thought for a moment—didn’t have time to recover the taser that was still resting on his thighs which was placed between the two of them.
Realizing that the situation wasn’t right, Jiang Fang decisively took action. He applied force onto his hand and pulled Nan Zhou’s head back to his shoulders.
Nan Zhou’s moist warm lips brushed against the skin of his neck, causing him to shudder violently.
He covered up. “It’s good to color me like this.”
We’re sorry for MTLers or people who like using reading mode, but our translations keep getting stolen by aggregators so we’re going to bring back the copy protection. If you need to MTL please retype the gibberish parts.
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Ktf alq bo tlr tfjga rkfqa atgbeut j ragjcuf sfa kbcvfgoei offilcu.
Ktfgf kjr j ojlca rfcrf bo alutacfrr lc atf lcafgcji bgujcr.
It was probably the stomach.
Or a little further up.
The music faded.
The silhouettes of people vanished with it.
The sounds of conversation, laughter, bartenders placing pillared ice in glasses, and long wine spoons, all disappeared in turn.
There was only one sound left in the world.
A drunken little painter, his fingertips rubbing the skin near his own collarbone, making a fine, rustling sound.
But soon, Jiang Fang regretted it.
……
After getting permission from the accordionist, Nan Zhou began to paint in earnest.
But before he could paint further on the accordion player, he peeled Nan Zhou off of his body a bit forcibly.
Nan Zhou looked at him with dissatisfaction, “…”
——I haven’t finished painting yet.
The accordionist appeared to be heaving heavily. The rhythm of his breathing was awfully chaotic, which was obviously different from what Nan Zhou thought he should look like.
However, Nan Zhou seemed to be looking at him more in delight.
The accordionist’s exposed skin—including his cheeks—were uniformly stained with crimson. The shade could only be described as excellent.
Nan Zhou thought he couldn’t create such an exceptional hue. He curiously raised his hand to touch the corners of his mouth, humbly asking for advice, “Excuse me, how did you adjust it?”
The accordion master, “…?”
He inclined his face and avoided his fingertips with a reluctant look.
But Nan Zhou eventually detected it.
As soon as his fingers touched the master’s skin, that fading color would naturally reappear.
Nan Zhou never hid his desire for knowledge. “Teach me.”
The accordion master’s voice was a bit sluggish, “Stop it.”
Finding that he did seem quite resistant, Nan Zhou dismissed the idea of pursuing the matter. “Hmm.”
After saying that, Nan Zhou courteously put his restless hand on his knee.
Unexpectedly, the accordion master looked at him for a while, his expression becoming more subtle.
The accordionist pressed one hand, seemingly unintentionally, on the base of his thigh. With his knees in one place and his thumbs against the side of his legs as if he was trying desperately to restrain something.
But apparently, this was quite difficult for the accordion master.
It was evident when he clenched both of his fists and muttered lowly, “…чорт (damn)”
Nan Zhou, “What does that mean?”
The accordion master looked up, a strand of sweaty, silver hair slipped down and stuck near his left eye, “Well. It means hello.”
Nan Zhou said, “I’ll remember it.”
With the evaporation of the cider, the effect of whiskey closely followed, bursting within Nan Zhou’s body.
Nan Zhou leaned back on the soft sofa and felt himself sinking and sagging.
The feverish heat turned into a myriad haziness of sizzling flames. It drove him to a lethargic consciousness, floating and sinking in it.
He rubbed his temples, trying to keep his balance.
He messed up his slightly curly, wet, black hair while his body was still sinking and plunging uncontrollably.
Nan Zhou was so dizzy that he couldn’t sit still.
When he found that Nan Zhou’s body was sliding down the sofa, the accordion master wanted to pick him up, but it was too late.
The accordion master got up from his seat, and inserted a leg in time between Nan Zhou’s slightly parted legs, with the toe cushioning the back of Nan Zhou’s buttocks.
This could be considered as having Nan Zhou avoiding contact with the icy ground.
Nan Zhou sat cross-legged on the tip of his textured and shiny leather shoes as if he was oblivious on how he fell there.
The accordionist stepped back on one leg and squatted down, being eye level with him, “Do you need me to carry you up, or can you stand up on your own?”
Nan Zhou tilted his head slightly and watched the accordion master for a moment.
… Then lightly rubbed his crotch against the shiny black leather shoe.
Nan Zhou didn’t mean anything about it.
What he meant by this move was, ‘Can’t stand up. Hold me.’
He has never been shy about admitting his weakness.
But Nan Zhou saw the accordion master’s face once again rise into that questionable scarlet.
He also heard a meaningless, “… Tsk.”
Nan Zhou tipped his head, thinking that the accordion master was denying his request.
He wasn’t sad about it though. He just turned on his side, intending to be self-reliant and get up on his own. However, his knee became soft, and he fell into the arms of the accordion master who was coming to help him.
Nan Zhou went forward while the accordion master had his back to the ground.
Nan Zhou was thus straddling him, sitting on the lower abdomen of the accordion master.
The glass table above and the luminous black crystal floor were shadowed by the reflection of the two people who looked compatible with each other.
It was as if there were six people, mirrored by the shadows.
Nan Zhou’s upper body fell on the accordion master. He grabbed the hands that the accordionist had just stretched out to him. Just like a táng rén, he glued himself to the person with no space in between.
The accordion master stared at his red cheeks that were too close for comfort, while Nan Zhou held the accordionist’s hands above his head.
Nan Zhou was also watching him. He attentively observed the ongoing, unusual chemical reactions in his own body.
After a long time, he made a particularly odd discovery.
He said frankly, “I seem to have the urge to reproduce with you.”
Nan Zhou’s tone carried a bit of a fascinating yet distressful and utterly confused timbre. It was so sincere that the accordion master froze for quite some time before he understood what Nan Zhou was talking about.
The accordionist was momentarily speechless, “… Why?”
“You’re special.”
Nan Zhou took the accordion master’s question seriously. “You make delicious food.”
“You talk with me and are not afraid of me.”
“You were the first person who took me out.”
“I had a slight urge to have sex with you when I saw you on the balcony. But it wasn’t as real and explicit as it is now.”
“I’m also wondering as to why exactly. Will you help me figure it out?”
……
Jiang Fang listened carefully to each of Nan Zhou’s reasons.
He pondered for a moment, then smothered a laugh and said, “This… is dangerous. For you. For me. Being in this position.”
Nan Zhou seemed to understand his concern, “I’m discussing this with you with my utmost sincerity. I solemnly swear I won’t throw up.”
Jiang Fang, “I’m not worried about that… Well, I’m quite worried about that too.”
Nan Zhou assured him again, “I will not throw up.”
Seeing that Nan Zhou was under the influence of alcohol and couldn’t sit still, Jiang Fang subconsciously raised his waist and stabilized his body.
But he immediately regretted it.
He should have let Nan Zhou lie on the cold floor, so he could clear his mind.
Even so, Jiang Fang held his waist and said patiently, “It’s a beautiful night, isn’t it?”
Nan Zhou gave a sluggish nod.
“So, let’s not spoil this beauty, okay?”
Facing Nan Zhou’s puzzled eyes, Jiang Fang softened his voice and pushed him away in a coaxing tone.
“This urge you’re feeling, it could be likened to a fledgling complex. It can manifest itself in a way… you say, reproductive impulse. But that is all there is to it, an impulse to reproduce.”
“That urge can’t be taken seriously, and it’s not worth wasting it on me.”
“Although the apple is the forbidden fruit of Adam and Eve, I am not Adam, and a man like me would not give his heart to another.”
“I can only be the snake.”
“I’m not too old, and I haven’t seen or played enough with the various things this world has to offer. So I’ll work hard and live alone.”
“So… us two, should just be friends, okay?”
Nan Zhou just sat naively on Jiang Fang. “… Is that so?”
Seeing that he understood, Jiang Fang gently patted his waist, “This is for the best.”
Seeing Nan Zhou appeared to be dazed—face not dejected, just a little confused—Jiang Fang felt more at ease.
Even he didn’t know where this fear of making Nan Zhou sad came from.
He said, “Nan Zhou, let’s not stay here. I’ll take you out to sober up, okay?”
……
The temperature difference between day and night in [Paper Gold City] wasn’t small, and the night was much colder.
The wind was picking up.
The cool breeze was blowing against his cheeks, like a light kiss from the god of the night.
After lying on top of the accordion master for a while, Nan Zhou was able to get some of his strength back.
Although he stumbled a bit and could only be supported by the musician, at least he was able to walk by himself now.
They passed by a van that delivered desserts.
Three or four NPCs in working clothes were unloading the goods down the road.
As they walked by, countless silvery, fine particles were suddenly blown into the air in a flash, surrounding them like snow shrapnel.
Thousands of trees and ten thousand pears are blooming.
The air was filled with a faint fragrance of sugar.
Nan Zhou, “Ah, snow.”
“It’s not snow,” The accordion master said, “This is an easter egg from a movie many years ago. The game designer combined this section with [Paper Gold City]. As long as two people pass by together to deliver desserts, it’s possible to trigger the [Sugar Snow] plot.”
Nan Zhou used his hand to catch the flying “snow”.
Descending on his palm, the “snow” actually didn’t have a hexagonal pattern. Just a flimsy shaped piece of frosting that quickly melted from the heat of his palm.
The accordion player, “That movie and the atmosphere of the city fits perfectly well.”
“Later, when I have time, I can take you to see…”
“I figured it out.”
Nan Zhou suddenly interrupted the accordionist’s words.
His thoughts were slow and he had stayed in the bar for a long time. So he had no time to digest that story until now.
Nan Zhou turned his head and faced the accordionist in the falling “snow”.
He appeared to be solemn. Just like a groom—in his matrimony—that was saying his vows in front of the priest.
Nan Zhou said, “You don’t want to be Adam. But I can.”
……
Nan Zhou wouldn’t know that with just one sentence, he had instantly struck a large crack in the psychic wall that Jiang Fang diligently built with his own hands.
Jiang Fang could resist those intimate and ambiguous actions, but he couldn’t resist this simple and cute sentence.
Jiang Fang’s breathing suddenly became heavier.
The atmosphere was just right.
The scene was just right.
The person in front of him… wasn’t bad either.
Jiang Fang’s genuine physical reaction forced him to forget everything he had just said.
He wasn’t as confident as he said he was.
He clearly remembered the day he planted the apple tree for Nan Zhou.
He remembered the apple that rolled down the balcony.
He remembered the satisfaction in Nan Zhou’s heart when he ate what he made, and his own secret satisfaction tucked away in the corner of his heart.
He remembered sleeping in the same bed with Nan Zhou, who was extraordinarily dependent on him because of his lack of knowledge of the outside world.
It was quiet yet clear, resonating the name that could provoke paramount fear to Jiang Fang. He had seen such a thing, seen what it could do to the best, but he had never been its victim. Yet he knew, it had laid its eyes upon him as he laid his heart upon another.
In the continuous drizzle of frost and snow, he had unconsciously deceived him.
For a moment, Jiang Fang wanted to do it with Nan Zhou, who was covered with frosting and looking at him seriously.
Even if it meant delving headfirst into a circumstance where the fiery sea of sensuality would lead into unpredictable madness.
Noticing that Jiang Fang was approaching him, Nan Zhou just stood still and waited for him to come forward.
Intoxication had turned him into a tamed animal with little vigilance.
……
They were like saccharine frosting. Only able to keep their forms when they were separated by the satin wrap between reality and fantasy. However, there was the urge, the impulse to break through the paper-thin boundaries set by the world to entangle and set each other ablaze.
However, when the distance between their lips was only half an inch, Nan Zhou stopped.
He moved his gaze down which landed on the gap between the legs of the person in front of him.
He frowned subtly.
For the next second, Nan Zhou’s fingers rested against the chest of the person before him, stopping him from getting any closer.
“This is not you.” Nan Zhou said, “You… should be bigger than this.”
……
In a flash, the dream was suspended.
The game would simulate the player’s most arousing memory, and an NPC who was an excellent theatrical performer would seamlessly mirror the original script, lines, and actions.
If one couldn’t detect the peculiarity of the dream and couldn’t escape from it, then the player would sleep forever in this dark cottage with a heart brimming with desire.
After all the illusions had cracked, the cordial and amorous painted scenery eventually faded.
The exemplary image of the accordionist before Nan Zhou’s eyes instantly shattered at his remark.
His skin started to crack… revealing the head of a wolf with a ferocious smile.
Um……
The reason he figured it out was because the imposte was……. small?
😂😂😂😂
Damm😏😏😏
Thx for the chappy
I think their dreams are still connected with each other, both imposter are copying what the real is doing in the other dream.
The scene with the snow is so beautiful but I wonder whether Nan Zhou would remember his dream when he woke up.
Nan Zhou, where are you looking at? What’s supposed to be much bigger? 😂
Thank you for the chapter! 😍❤
Thank you for the chapter!
Sorry, Teacher Nan love tall men, u know
Thank you for new chapter 🤍
He is talking about another thing that’s big, one you will measure with inches if you know what I mean😏🤭
thanks for the chapter <3
omfg, i did NOT anticipate that turn lmfao
author really used that to be a significant plot point?? XDDD
You’ve heard about Chekov’s Gun, now get ready for Chekov’s Dic-
Now Jiang Fang will realize his cock was measured by his love? 😂
the original Jiang Fang who’s in the other dream*