CHAPTER 27 (PART 1)

“Did I kill the conversation again?” Shen Jingyan asked.

Shi Li forced a fake smile. “What do you think?”

Shen Jingyan lowered his gaze. “Oh.”

Shi Li sighed. “I suddenly miss the gentle and refined version of you.”

“That was fake,” Shen Jingyan said as he pushed up his glasses and looked at her calmly. “This is the real me.”

“You’re such a good actor—can’t you just pretend a little longer?” Shi Li raised an eyebrow.

Shen Jingyan pondered for a moment before giving her a warm, gentle smile.

Shi Li had thought she really missed that side of him, but the moment she saw that fake smile, goosebumps immediately rose on her arms. “Never mind, don’t smile.”

Knowing his expressions weren’t genuine made it unbearable for her.

Shen Jingyan’s face instantly went blank again, and Shi Li let out a breath of relief.

The only upside to his lack of emotions was that he no longer had mood swings. Even if she occasionally said something wrong, he wouldn’t actually get angry.

…Still, Shi Li hoped he could go back to normal—to truly experience joy, anger, sorrow, and happiness.

Shen Jingyan stared into her eyes for a moment before saying slowly, “You’re upset.”

Even though his emotions were faint, his intelligence remained high—he could still accurately analyze the emotions of those around him.

Shi Li took his hand in hers. “Yeah, I’m a little upset.”

“Why?” Shen Jingyan asked.

Like a small animal, Shi Li placed her face in his palm. “Because I want you to get better. I want you to feel real happiness, not just this vague imitation of emotion.”

Shen Jingyan hesitated, staring into her somewhat sorrowful eyes. Almost without thinking, he murmured, “It’s not impossible…”

“Hmm?” Shi Li didn’t catch what he said.

Shen Jingyan’s eyes flickered. “Nothing. Are you hungry? Let’s go eat.”

“…It’s only a little past four,” Shi Li said, sitting up in exasperation.

Shen Jingyan checked the time. “By the time we get there and park, it’ll be at least half an hour. That’ll make it five o’clock—perfect for dinner.”

Shi Li’s lips twitched. “At this rate, I’ll be overweight before the experiment is even done.”

“You won’t,” Shen Jingyan replied smoothly. “Even if you gain ten more pounds, you wouldn’t be overweight.”

Shi Li shot him a sideways glance, just about to retort, when he suddenly added, “How about crawfish?”

“…Let’s go.”

Half an hour later, they arrived at a high-end restaurant. Shi Li looked at the lavish entrance, hesitation flickering in her eyes. “You’re sure we’re eating here?”

“Why?” Shen Jingyan asked.

Shi Li shrugged. “I just feel like crawfish should be eaten at a street stall. It has more atmosphere.”

“I don’t care about atmosphere,” Shen Jingyan replied as he stepped inside. “And this place is obviously cleaner.”

Shi Li’s lips twitched, but she followed him in regardless.

The moment they entered, a rich, delicious aroma filled the air, instantly awakening Shi Li’s appetite. She followed Shen Jingyan to a private booth in the corner.

This restaurant didn’t have fully enclosed private rooms—only semi-private booths divided by a combination of short walls and decorative vines. The walls, about half a meter high, provided enough separation while still allowing for good air circulation. Though one could make out vague silhouettes from the neighboring booths, it was impossible to see clearly what was happening inside.

It was a little past 5 PM, and there were only a few occupied tables in the restaurant. In their secluded corner, only two private booths were in use—one of them being theirs.

“What should we do? Everything looks delicious, but if we order too much, we won’t be able to finish it.” Shi Li looked at the menu in distress.

Shen Jingyan didn’t seem particularly interested in food. He simply gave a standard response, “Order whatever you like. If we can’t finish it, we can pack it up. You’ll have no problem finishing it at home.”

“…That’s true.” Shi Li immediately let go of her concerns and focused on ordering. Once she was done, she handed the menu to the waiter, then scooted closer to Shen Jingyan to watch him play his game.

Yes, Shen Jingyan played games—and he was quite good at them. The first time Shi Li saw him play, she was completely shocked. Watching him calmly wipe out the opposing team without breaking a sweat made her even more surprised.

Shen Jingyan had merely responded indifferently, saying that while he didn’t feel any joy, it was a decent way to pass the time.

Now, while waiting for their food, he pulled out his phone again. Shi Li couldn’t resist watching, chatting with him in a hushed voice as he played. Just as they were enjoying their conversation, a sultry moan suddenly drifted over from the neighboring booth. Both of them froze and exchanged glances.

“Be gentle, don’t let anyone hear us,” a woman’s embarrassed yet coy voice whispered.

This was followed by a man’s heavy breathing. “It’s fine. I’ll keep my movements small. As long as you don’t make a sound, no one will notice.”

Shi Li: “…” Your movements are anything but small, okay?! How are there people this shameless, even in a semi-open booth?

More soft gasps came from the other side. Even if Shi Li were clueless, it was obvious what they were doing. Feeling awkward, she picked up her water glass and took a sip.

“Baby, you’re amazing. I feel so good, ah…” After a brief silence, the man’s sickeningly sweet voice rang out again.

Shi Li: “…”

Noticing that the couple next door had no intention of stopping, Shi Li awkwardly turned to Shen Jingyan. “Should we switch seats?”

“No need.” Shen Jingyan raised his voice slightly in the direction of the other booth. “Are you unaware that every booth here has surveillance cameras?”

The noises from the other side came to an abrupt halt, followed by the sound of a cup hitting the ground. Clearly, they had been scared stiff. A moment later, the two hurriedly left in embarrassment, and the restaurant returned to peaceful silence.

Shi Li chuckled dryly. “You really know how to handle things.” She hadn’t expected him to call them out so directly.

“It was fine.” Shen Jingyan replied calmly.

Shi Li glanced at him, then focused on her meal when the crayfish arrived. Seeing her enjoy her food, Shen Jingyan also ate a little more than usual.

As they were finishing up, Shi Li suddenly asked, “When you heard those noises earlier, did you feel anything?”

“What?” Shen Jingyan looked at her.

Shi Li cleared her throat. “I mean… Since you don’t have emotions anymore, you can’t feel joy or excitement, right? So, in that aspect… does it affect you?”

The thought had just popped into her head after seeing how indifferent he was. Some things required emotions to truly be enjoyable. If he couldn’t even feel them, then… would he still have the urge? Or rather, would he even be able to?

Shi Li imagined herself without any emotions. Would she still be able to… with a man?

The obvious answer was no.

Suddenly, she realized that emotions played a much bigger role than she had initially thought.

Shen Jingyan had been listening to her calmly, but after she went silent, he noticed her watery eyes staring at him—practically radiating sympathy.

He paused. “What are you thinking?”

“…Nothing, I just feel like,” Shi Li pursed her lips, “you must feel wronged.”

She still remembered their teenage years. Shen Jingyan had loved kissing and hugging her. Though they had never gone all the way, he had often flustered her to the point of blushing. She knew very well that he enjoyed intimacy, and back then, he had looked forward to finally graduating. But before they could, he had been locked away.

Now, with his emotional mechanisms shut down, he probably couldn’t experience those passionate feelings anymore.

Shen Jingyan stared at her for a moment, then expressionlessly twisted the head off a crayfish before speaking in a flat tone. “You’re overthinking. I don’t feel anything.”

Shi Li: “…” That just makes it sound even sadder.

Shen Jingyan shot her a look. “Eat.”

“Oh.” Shi Li decided not to press the issue. Since he didn’t want to talk about it, she wouldn’t force him. Instead, she changed the topic back to gaming.

After dinner, they packed up the leftovers and headed home. When they got back, Shen Jingyan focused on his work while Shi Li sat beside him, playing on her phone.

Ever since they had laid all their cards on the table, Shen Jingyan had allowed her access to his study. Shi Li was fairly certain there was nothing left for her to investigate here, so she openly lingered in his space.

She actually wanted to go back to her room and review the contract she had photographed earlier. However, she usually stayed up late before heading to bed. If she suddenly went back too early today, Shen Jingyan might find it suspicious.

She had been maintaining this act for so long, and Shen Jingyan had only recently started letting his guard down around her. She couldn’t let all her efforts go to waste over something small.

…Still, knowing that the contract was waiting for her but having to waste time here felt agonizing. Shi Li sighed and, seeing Shen Jingyan close his documents, quickly suggested something to pass the time. “Wanna watch a movie?”

“Not interested.” Shen Jingyan removed his glasses and massaged the bridge of his nose. “I didn’t sleep well last night, and I didn’t nap at noon. I’m tired now.”

Shi Li’s eyes lit up before she casually said, “Then take a nap. When you wake up, we can finish off the leftover crayfish together.”

Shen Jingyan hummed in acknowledgment and got up to leave the study. After taking a few steps, he turned back. “What about you? What are you going to do while I sleep?”

“I’ve got nothing to do, so I’ll just grab some ice cream and watch a drama in my room,” Shi Li said, half-truthfully.

Shen Jingyan gave a slight nod. “Alright.”

After speaking, he turned and walked away. Shi Li followed him out, only heading to her own room after watching him enter his. As soon as she got inside, she dove under the covers and opened her phone’s photo album.

After reading just a few lines, she felt it wasn’t entirely safe, so she pulled up a horror movie in the background on her media player before curling back up under the blankets to continue reviewing the contract.

The contract was full of detailed and complex clauses, riddled with technical jargon that made it difficult to read. Shi Li fought off drowsiness as she flipped through the pages one by one.

It was largely consistent with what Shen Jingyan had previously told her, mostly outlining the obligations of the volunteer. However, when she reached the last section, she discovered an unusual clause: it explicitly stated that Shen Jingyan was her contractual party, not the biotech company.

This meant that she had signed the contract with Shen Jingyan personally, and it had no direct ties to the company. As for why she had been using the company’s lab all this time… well, Shen Jingyan was the boss. If he wanted to use it, he could.

There wasn’t much difference between signing with the company or signing with Shen Jingyan directly. However, if it had been with the company, she would be entirely subject to their decisions, whereas signing with an individual required an additional voluntary consent form for experimental participation. If she guessed correctly, the second contract Shen Jingyan had her sign back then must have been related to the experiment itself.

Shi Li realized this was the crucial part and immediately perked up, carefully reading every word. When she finally understood the specific nature of the experiment, her eyes lit up.

It was a cranial replacement procedure—essentially swapping a human’s emotional mechanism with that of an animal. Those who underwent the surgery would have simplified emotions, forming an overwhelming attachment to the first living being they saw upon waking. And it didn’t have to be a person—any living creature would do. Just like how baby chicks imprint on the first thing they see as their mother.

Theoretically, the procedure wouldn’t affect intelligence, but if emotions were driven entirely by attachment, it was hard to say whether intelligence would remain unaffected. In other words, after undergoing this procedure, a person’s independence as an individual could no longer be guaranteed.

Shi Li stared at the small text on her phone screen for so long that her head began to ache. She had expected Shen Jingyan to set some kind of trap for her within this experiment, but she hadn’t expected it to be this severe.

…However, perhaps because of everything they had already been through, or maybe because of what he had said when they were younger—about finding a way to make her obedient—she didn’t find it all that terrifying. Instead, she actually felt… a little sorry for Shen Jingyan.

And why wouldn’t she?

After scheming for so many years, he had resorted to emotional control just to make her listen to him. How insecure did he have to be to do this?

Because he couldn’t empathize, he was unable to experience emotions himself. He could only judge other people’s feelings based on logic and past experiences, leading to a deep uncertainty. And to fill that void, he turned to the only thing he could trust—science.

Shi Li let out a quiet sigh and continued reading. But as she got to the details of the surgical procedure, she suddenly felt that maybe it wasn’t Shen Jingyan who needed pity right now.