novelraw Chapter 6
Chapter 6
Chapter 6
When had Ye Shiyu first downloaded this app?
She remembered: the morning after she and her mother had moved to Linmen. She woke up, reached for her phone to check the time, and there it was—a violet icon squatting on the home screen as if it had always belonged.
A glitch? Some new breed of malware?
That was her first thought, because when she tried to delete the thing she found no trash-can icon, no X, no way to remove it at all.
Curiosity won. She tapped it. The moment the screen lit up, a flood of phantom words poured straight into her mind and hung in front of her eyes like augmented reality.
[Welcome to the Modulator App, Host Ye Shiyu.]
[Current App Level: 1. Level rises with frequency of use; higher levels improve effects and duration.]
[Effect: Individual Hypnosis — places a single target in a brief trance. While entranced, the subject will obey any command. Once the effect ends, all memories of the trance are erased.]
[Usage: Twice a week, fifteen minutes per session. Simply form the intent to activate the app, then show your phone screen to the target.]
[Important Notes]
1. Never reveal the existence of the app.
2. The app will always appear on the phone you use most, but it needs battery to function.
3. Delayed commands expire after fifteen minutes.
4. After each session the app will automatically patch unreasonable memories. Still, take care—avoid any slip that could expose the app.
Ye Shiyu's pupils widened. The last line was written in pink cursive:
[Use it without fear!]
A stupid prank, right?
Definitely malware. Back in the mainland she'd heard Linmen was crawling with cyber-scams.
Yet tonight, with Yan Huan standing in front of her, she had finally tried it—slipping the activation behind the innocent gesture of "let me scan your QR code." If it failed and he looked puzzled, she would laugh, "Oops, wrong button," and open plane instead.
But now the handsome boy stood motionless, pupils blown wide, and her heart began to race—thump, thump—like frantic war drums.
"It's... real."
Yan Huan, staring at Ye Shiyu's wide eyes, realized she was as green as Bai Yi had been; clearly this was her first time using a Modifier. Thanks to his built-in Resistance the initial nausea had passed, leaving only a pins-and-needles tingle that crawled under his skin—uncomfortable but manageable.
He kept his face slack, playing the perfect entranced doll. So much for hoping she didn't have a Modifier. First night and he'd already become "A-Wei." And sure enough, the app's description was every bit as trashy and R-rated as the others.
Fine. You started it.
He triggered Perfect Expression Management. His body relaxed; his eyes unfocused.
Ye Shiyu drew a shallow breath and glanced down the dim hallway. No witnesses. She reached out and pressed her palm to Yan Huan's chest, trying to push him into the nearest bedroom.
It felt like shoving a heated marble wall—he didn't budge, and the warmth made her snatch her hand back as if burned.
Are boys always this hot?
She was used to the chill of porcelain dolls; the difference between human and mannequin suddenly struck her.
What now? If I can't move him...
Right—he has to obey me.
Ye Shiyu leaned in and whispered, "Go inside the room."
A ripple ran through the lingering numbness in Yan Huan's limbs, nudging him forward. Maintaining the vacant stare, he turned and walked into the bedroom, then looked back at her.
Ye Shiyu checked the stairwell again, slipped in after him, and shut the door—click. Still uneasy, she turned the lock.
Click.
In the enclosed space her faint floral scent drifted to Yan Huan; he traced it to the ends of her long black hair. When she turned back, relief softened her face. Away from daylight's mask of indifference, her brows knitted, pale cheeks warmed by racing blood, eyes sweeping over him like a painting come to life.
"So... what should I do with you?"
She tapped her chin, pacing in front of him, murmuring half-formed plans.
"Hypnotize him tomorrow and make him tell his mom to cut contact? No—Mom will keep calling him..."
"Make him do something bad at home so Mom hates him... Yes, that could work... and this guy definitely deserves..."
Yan Huan listened like a silent mannequin, filing every word away.
She came to a decision, stepped closer, and asked softly, "Why are you here?"
"To have dinner at Auntie Ye's."
The flat reply disappointed her. She rephrased: "How do you feel about being here?"
Still too vague; if he were truly hypnotized he wouldn't know how to answer. She really was bad at conversation.
Yan Huan's unfocused eyes flickered. "I'm... a little scared."
"Scared? Of what?"
"I'm afraid of anyone connected to my parents. Once, right in front of me, relatives and friends of Mom and Dad took everything away—our house, my family—as if I didn't exist. I don't know why... I'm scared it will happen again... I've only just left the orphanage..."
Ye Shiyu's fingers curled tight. Watching the pain ripple across his face even under hypnosis, she blurted, "Stop. Don't think about it."
"Yes."
His expression smoothed, the memory sinking back into blank fog.
Ye Shiyu exhaled. "Mom would never do that," she muttered, yet the raw honesty of his words had scattered her thoughts. She needed to add him on plane so the app could patch his memory later. Today was only a test run; the rest could wait.
"Unlock your phone and open plane," she ordered.
Yan Huan did so. A blue-sea wallpaper bloomed across the screen. Plane launched, revealing a flood of chat windows and red dots—Student Council Admin, Math 1001 Group, Boxing Club Chat, Track Team Group, Fencing Group, Rideshare Group, Mahjong Group...
Ye Shiyu stared. She kept only three chats: Mom, Auntie Chen, and a former classmate.
Ding!
A new message popped up. She flinched.
[VP Sakuramiya: Need to discuss something with the President. Are you free right now?]
A white-cat avatar blinked.
What do I do? Who is this?
Ye Shiyu looked from the screen to Yan Huan's vacant eyes, then back at the message.
Forget it. When the hypnosis ends he can answer himself.
She ignored Yan Huan's silent protest and reached for the "Add Friend" button in the upper-right corner.
Watching her, Yan Huan could almost feel his own IQ dropping.
"How about you let me answer for you?"
"You already hypnotized me. So now you're just going to leave me standing here like a mannequin?"
It was painfully obvious that Ye Shiyu—unlike Yan Huan, who had spent a previous lifetime steeped in the fine art of gentlemanly conduct—had no clue how any of this worked. Her first attempt was as clumsy as someone trying to thread a needle wearing mittens.
Her fingertip was a hair's breadth from the "Add Friend" button when the screen went black. A voice-call interface flashed up.
Ding-ding-ding—
Voice Call: Sakuramiya Vice-President
...She's calling?!
The blown-up white-cat avatar made Ye Shiyu flinch. The shrill ringtone sent a shudder through her—guilty conscience on full display.
She jabbed the red button, killing the noise.
Beep-beep—
A long exhale. Crisis averted.
To keep Sakuramiya from calling again, Ye Shiyu typed a hasty message:
"Sorry, I'm tied up. Can't take calls right now."
No immediate reply. Certain she'd escaped, she reached to close the chat.
Then the contact's status changed to: "typing..."
Ping—one new message.
Three simple characters: "Who are you?"
...?!
Ye Shiyu froze as if struck by lightning.
Yan Huan had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing.
In the depths of his fogged mind, a spark of sympathy flickered. Ye Shiyu's soft pink lips—ever so slightly—began to pout. Tiny, but undeniably there, like a child wronged by the universe.
Wait—she can pull off Ye Lan's signature expression too?
Sakuramiya Vice-President, well played. Very well played.
Hands trembling, Ye Shiyu scrolled up, desperate to find Yan Huan's chat habits with the vice-president. Nothing but call records greeted her.
So that's why Sakuramiya dialed straight in.
Everything else was just school bulletins. The two of them rarely texted.
How had a single sentence given her away?
No use wondering—let him clean up his own mess.
Ye Shiyu chose self-delusion. She retracted the previous message.
?
Another ominous question mark arrived, sharp as the Grim Reaper's scythe.
Pretending not to see, she backed out, opened Yan Huan's QR code, scanned it with her own phone, and tapped Accept.
Ping—friend request complete.
A second sigh of relief, like slamming shut the gates of hell. She powered off Yan Huan's phone.
Ten minutes. An eternity.
That's enough for today.
She slipped the phone back into Yan Huan's pocket—then hesitated. Mama had been digging up every scrap of information about Yan Huan for days, ever since they arrived in Linmen. Mama's old friend, Mama's stories.
Only now, face to face, did Ye Shiyu feel she understood him a little. A brilliant boy, pitiable past—but...
The hesitation in her eyes darkened into something hungrier. She lifted the phone again.
"Sit still. Don't move. When you wake up, you'll forget everything that happened here. That's all."
"Yes."
As soon as Yan Huan sat, Ye Shiyu unlocked the door and slipped out.
Click.
Yan Huan glanced at the closed door, stretched the pins-and-needles out of his limbs, and waited for the Modifier to wear off.
Minutes later the numbness receded—exactly fifteen minutes since the hypnosis began.
A brand-new memory blossomed in his mind: Ye Shiyu knocked, added him as a friend, exchanged a few polite words, then left. Back in his room, he'd suddenly felt drowsy, nearly nodded off, declined Sakuramiya's call in a fog, and sent an uncharacteristically curt message. After her puzzled reply he'd retracted it, fully awake now.
Yan Huan rolled the memory around, uneasy. The Modifier didn't just implant recollections—it convinced you they were genuine. Without Resistance, he'd never have noticed the seams.
Unless a third party, untouched by the effect, pointed out the contradictions.
Ruthless.
Yan Huan flexed his fingers, replaying every real detail.
Ye Shiyu didn't want him here. Or rather, she didn't want him near Ye Lan. If the Modifier ran on desire, then her wish had been to keep him away.
Desire...
He remembered Auntie Chen mentioning that Ye Shiyu labeled everything she owned. An answer hovered just out of reach when—
Knock-knock-knock.
Again?
Yan Huan braced himself. "Who is it?"
"Xiao Huan, it's Auntie Chen. I warmed some milk for you."
"Coming."
He opened the door. Auntie Chen beamed, holding a cup of milk. Just behind her stood Ye Shiyu, expression blank, cradling an identical cup.
Criminals always return to the scene, they say. Ye Shiyu was here to verify the cover-up.
"Here, both of you drink up. I added a touch of honey—try it and let me know if it's too sweet. If you hate it, I'll skip it tomorrow."
"No problem, Auntie Chen."
Yan Huan played the part of someone who remembered nothing. Seeing his calm face, Ye Shiyu finally turned away, satisfied.
Auntie Chen added, "Take it inside, Xiao Huan. New toothbrush and toiletries are in the bathroom. Shout if you need anything else."
"Got it. Thanks, Auntie Chen."
"Sleep tight, Xiao Huan."
Back in his room he set the milk on the desk and pulled out his phone.
He opened the newly added contact—Ye Shiyu. The chat was blank. After a moment he typed:
Shiyu sis, if you need anything at school, just ask me.
He added a smiling emoji that, in a past life, carried layers of subtext.
A few seconds later she replied with a simple OK hand sign.
Big-sis-little-brother harmony restored, as though the last half hour of anime-level chaos had never happened.
Yan Huan slumped against the sofa, took a sip of milk, then remembered Sakuramiya's unread message.
There it was: a single question mark, still hanging in the chat like a neon warning.
He couldn't help grinning. He opened the sticker menu—cats, anime faces, pandas, GIFs—found the perfect cat sweating bullets, tapped send.
"Sorry."
The other party was typing...
"Was the president's phone just in someone else's hands?"
She replied instantly—was she worried he'd been jumped by thugs?
Yan Huan sent back a nodding-cat sticker: "Mm-hmm."
"I'm at work. A friend answered for me; something came up."
Come to think of it, he must spam too many stickers—one look at a message without them and Sakuramiya Vice-President saw right through him.
Well, she knew the entire management team inside out, and her memory was scary good. Par for the course.
With that in mind, Yan Huan typed,
"What was the urgent thing you mentioned earlier?"
A cat-with-a-question-mark sticker followed.
The other party was typing...
But a long while passed with no message, no call—she preferred talking on the phone; she said it was faster.
Just as Yan Huan was about to check another group chat and wait it out, her reply finally arrived.
"It's already settled, President."
He glanced at the chat and sent the nodding-cat sticker again.
"Glad to hear it. Get some rest, Sakuramiya."
"Okay."
The milk was gone; the phone tossed aside. Yan Huan finally let his body relax, stretching out on the sofa.
"Meow~"
Plump Meow-chan reappeared, tilting its head at him in concern.
Yan Huan shot it a look and patted the cushion beside him.
Understanding perfectly, the cat hopped up and nestled its fluffy softness against his chest.
Stroking its silky fur, Yan Huan gave a helpless smile.
"Looks like if I don't make a move soon, I won't have a future left, Meow-chan."
"Meow~"