The little one was stunned by the explosive style of “lifting the spirits,” but Cheng Leyan remained unfazed.

Silly news is so entertaining! How could I not share more with Patron Dad?

After sharing ten stories, he paused and looked outside: “Huh, where’s the caregiver? Let’s go find them and check on my husband’s health. I’ll continue the news later. Darling, you must love listening, right?”

Zhuozhuo: No! Your news is weird! Dad wouldn’t like it!!!

Wait, Dad’s a vegetative state; he can’t hear it!

But unbeknownst to him…

As soon as Cheng Leyan’s voice filled the room, there was activity in Rong Wangzhi’s brain.

Rong Wangzhi suddenly—had awareness.

It felt like his consciousness, locked in a dark, enclosed space, finally saw the light.

The accident was a year ago, but it felt like a brief moment to him, his mind still harboring fear and pain.

Then, a lively voice rang in his ears: “Yo-ho! With a sound, I grandly arrive! My dear, your health, is protected by me!”

Rong Wangzhi: ??????

Who are you?

What nonsense?

My love? Who’s your love?

This burst of chaotic thoughts soon faded, as if a drowning person had surfaced for air, only to be dragged back into the depths by seaweed.

Once more, the voice came: “Dear, now I’ll broadcast today’s news. First: Qingdao man diving mistaken for a big fish, reeled ashore, released, re-dove, re-caught. Hahaha, hahahaha!”

Then the second silly news story.

Followed by the third.

Rong Wangzhi’s consciousness grew clearer, a slow-forming question mark drifting up: ?

After the silly news broadcast, the voice announced a caregiver hunt, leaving silence.

Suddenly, another voice interjected—a voice excited, euphoric: [Host! Host, you’re conscious! Oh heavens, you’re conscious!!! Host, I’m your system, ID 250! Listen to me, complete tasks together, and you’ll gain unmatched wealth, status, and glory!]

Rong Wangzhi thought: There’s something in my brain.

System 250 reassured: [No, no, I’m not just anything; I’m a high-tech product, your helper, your future partner. With me here, you’ll reclaim the pinnacle! You’ll regain everything!]

Quickly grasping the key point: something in his brain likely a nanotech AI, catching any language-formed thoughts immediately.

Now, his private musings morphed into non-verbal flashes.

250 noted the silence, asked: [Why aren’t you speaking, Host?? Are you hearing me???]

Rong Wangzhi coolly replied: [Mm.]

250: [Great! Our future’s bright, but first, you’ve got a bit of a pickle—post-accident vegetative state’s not ideal for tasks.]

Rong Wangzhi: [Mm.]

250: [Another issue—I was in the plot team, suddenly moved to R18, with odd tasks needing—um, action. Host, any movement possible?]

Rong Wangzhi: [Mm.]

250: [Not that…Why the “mm”? Can you say something, Host?]

Rong Wangzhi: [Ah.]

250 on the verge of a breakdown.

This host’s a vegetative person, fair—yet utterly uncooperative! Plus, where are his thoughts?? Zero clutter, flawlessness.

What is he? A brain-sealed wizard?

250 pushed: [Host, let’s get cracking! Complete a task, gain points, convert to health, turbocharge recovery—don’t tell me eternity as a vegetative person appeals???]

Rong Wangzhi: [Ah.]

250 was about to curse. Why all the ‘mm’ and ‘ah’ nonsense! Speak up, how are we going to accomplish—

Wait.

Suddenly, 250 was stunned, discovering his host inexplicably completed a task.

The task was: [Unable to say anything but “mm” and “ah.”]

What on earth is this task? R18 group work—is it busted?

But somehow, accomplishment?

250, teary with glee: [Host, task complete!! You nailed the “mm ah” task! And the reward is…uh…points, fantastic, Host! Plus, an extra buff.]

250’s tone lowered to a whisper: [The reward—most enticing lip color, like crushed rose petals—a shade tempting any lover for a kiss.]

Awkwardly, 250 laughed: [Haha, R18 group’s bounty, haha, isn’t it nice, haha.]

Rong Wangzhi: ………….

Finally speaking the longest sentence yet: [Mr. 250, how do I get you out of my body?]

250 despondent.

I wish I knew, man!

Why in the world am I in R18 group, ahhhh!

These tasks are ridiculous, main god, I want to go home!

At that moment, Cheng Leyan returned.

He’d tried locating caregivers for an update on Rong Wangzhi’s health but found none. Staff suggested waiting, so he returned with Zhuozhuo.

Seeing Rong Wangzhi’s face, Cheng Leyan paused.

In disbelief: “Crazy! Who put lipstick on my husband?”

Peering closer, perplexed: “Seriously, lipstick’s one thing, but he’s got pouty lips—brain short-circuited?”

Closer still, murmuring: “What’s with that pout? Tempting… Is he a lip model? Zhuozhuo, come see your dad’s pout!”

Rong Wangzhi: ………….

Ah.

Zhuozhuo, too.

Suffocated silence.

Cheng Leyan, utterly baffled.

Honestly, Patron Husband sported unparalleled features: high nose, deep-set eyes, defined angles, a perfect bone structure.

Lips thin, exuding aloofness, coldness.

Yet, pale, blood vessels prominent.

Now, that face, nearly blanched, flashed red—sinfully vibrant lips.

Can’t linger—more looks, a desire to kiss follows, making one seem a pervert.

Moments ago, those lips didn’t exist!

Insane, did someone sneak in during those moments away and apply lipstick?

For what? By whose request?

Do the salon’s vegetative clients need cosmetic treatments? Require imaging standards? Need beauty enhancements???

419 timidly noted: [Wow, these lips—like rose petal-dyed. Our group’s buff fits that, doesn’t it? Looks really kissable, right?]

Cheng Leyan: [Stop being weird! What are you planning for someone comatose?]

Couldn’t resist a swipe to test the hue.

…Two swipes, no charm removal, instead, deepening into more decadent allure, causing an unintentionally audible swallow.

Zhuozhuo eyed him silently, shrunk sideways.

Cheng Leyan: …Geez.

Cheng Leyan: “What’s this, little one? Stepdad’s no pervert, okay?”

Zhuozhuo: …Really?

Caregiver absence compounded unreliability—a key issue with vegetative care, risking pressure sores.

Might as well check himself.

Cheng Leyan informed Rong Wangzhi: “Dear, I’m checking your health, hope you don’t mind.”

He then rolled up pants, lifted the shirt.

His expression darkened: Rong Wangzhi bore bruises, mostly faded, resembling physical grasping. Bedsores marked his back and legs—care sorely lacking.

An upscale, high-priced facility should guarantee no such problems.

Where’s Mama Rong’s payment gone, into a dog’s belly!?

Just then, a caregiver huffed in, nodding obsequiously, “Young Master Cheng, you’re here.”

He winked vulgarly, suggesting, “Relax, room monitoring’s off, go ahead, enjoy.”

Cheng Leyan’s heart raced.

“Well, you’re finally here, grand caregiver. Tell me, what’s my husband’s monthly bill here?”

The man paused: “Think it’s the top tier, $188,000 monthly.”

Nearly exploding: “188?! $188,000!? For this service? Explain these bruises! This care causing marks like pinches?”

Caregiver’s face fell: “Young Master, don’t frame me; weren’t you…ah, all your doing? Weren’t those chairs smashed by you? I even covered for you with medical staff checks.”

Cheng Leyan: ………….

Wow, the original host truly messed up! Rong Wangzhi’s bruises, his abuse!!!!

To subject a defenseless vegetative state person to such cruelty—pure scum.

And the caregiver—a human scum No. 2.

No way letting his Patron Daddy stay in this!

Without hesitation, he called Assistant Chen, emphasizing urgency about Rong Wangzhi, who transferred him to Mama Rong.

Mama Rong impatient: “What’s up? You’d better have something serious.”

Cheng Leyan: “Mom! Seeing Mr. Rong, this spa is deeply flawed! Can you believe he’s got bedsores? And that’s $188k a month—we’re being scammed!”

Mama Rong’s tone turned serious: “Half an hour, I’ll drive over.”

Cheng Leyan: “Oh, and they’re mad, lipsticked Mr. Rong—gave him pouty lips too.”

Mama Rong: “…Ten minutes, I’ll helicopter over.”