Chapter 243: The Overactive Inner Monologue of a Mad Painter’s Realistic Doll (6)

Chapter 243: The Overactive Inner Monologue of a Mad Painter's Realistic Doll (6)

Song Chuyi couldn't stand to look at Ji Feng anymore.

One moment he was all smiles, and the next, he was accusing him of seduction with a dark expression!

Absolutely shameless!

If he weren't stuck right now, he'd show Ji Feng what real seduction looks like.

Song Chuyi fumed inwardly as Ji Feng tilted his head downward.

Ji Feng's large hands, with their long, slender fingers, gripped his head so tightly it felt like they could lift his skull.

But he wasn't scared!

After all, in this world, he had a six-pack, unlike Ji Feng, who didn't have a single ab to show.

In this world, he could probably land a couple of punches on Ji Feng and leave him unable to fight back.

Song Chuyi's mind wandered, and he couldn't help but chuckle to himself.

Just then, Ji Feng let go of Yi Yi's head and tugged at the tie around his wrist.

The tie was tied so tightly that it would have left red marks on someone with delicate skin.

But a realistic doll? Not a chance.

No matter how lifelike, it's still just a doll, and this one's made of high-tech materials—bulletproof and fireproof.

The tie's pressure was nothing; it couldn't leave a mark.

Ji Feng noticed this, his cold, pale fingers lightly brushing the skin near the tie.

"Does it hurt, Yi Yi?"

"Look, it's turning red."

Song Chuyi: ... Seriously?

Even though he couldn't look down, he knew this body was tough!

He wasn't buying that a little rub from the tie would leave a mark.

Ji Feng was just messing with him.

Out of nowhere, Ji Feng let out a soft chuckle.

"Did you catch on, Yi Yi? I was just messing with you."

A laugh bubbled up from his throat.

"Of course, my Yi Yi is sharp as a tack."

He dug his fingers into the pale skin.

When no red mark appeared, he frowned, clearly annoyed.

"Yi Yi's skin is really good."

He sighed, seemingly regretful.

"I used so much force, but Yi Yi's skin didn't even redden."

Song Chuyi remained silent...

Of course it wouldn't redden.

If it did, Ji Feng should demand a refund from the company that custom-made this doll.

But Ji Feng's strength was surprisingly strong; Song Chuyi could feel the pressure on his wrist.

How does a painter have such strength?

Song Chuyi was lost in thought, oblivious to the change in Ji Feng's expression, a flicker of malice and infatuation in his eyes.

"If I press hard enough, will Yi Yi's skin redden?"

"Such fair skin would look stunning when it reddens."

He pulled Yi Yi close, burying his face in his neck, laughing with infatuation.

"I'll let Yi Yi go for today."

"If I hurt Yi Yi and he gets mad and leaves me, what would I do?"

He muttered.

"No, I can't let Yi Yi go."

So before the handcuffs arrive, he can't risk upsetting Yi Yi.

At this thought, panic flickered in Ji Feng's eyes, and he planted a few random kisses on Song Chuyi.

"I'm sorry, Yi Yi."

"I didn't mean it."

"I've always been strong—did I hurt you?"

He bent down to kiss his wrist.

Song Chuyi snapped out of his thoughts, watching helplessly as Ji Feng put on his one-man show.

Ji Feng should have been an actor, not a painter.

He'd definitely win awards.

Song Chuyi quietly observed Ji Feng's antics until nearly noon, when Ji Feng finally released him to cook in the kitchen.

The kitchen was right next door, so Ji Feng only had to glance up to see Yi Yi sitting in the yard.

This reassured him.

Twenty minutes later, Ji Feng emerged with a plate of steamed broccoli and a bowl of rice.

He set an empty bowl in front of Yi Yi and smiled, saying, "Yi Yi, there's only one dish for lunch today."

"You'll have to make do."

"Someone will be delivering vegetables this afternoon."

Song Chuyi glanced at the boiled broccoli on the table, a sense of dread creeping up on him.

Why is Ji Feng so calm about serving this kind of dish, which only shows up during weight loss phases?

What's worse, it's been two days, and he hasn't seen a single piece of meat.

Is Ji Feng some kind of vegetarian or something?

The thought made Song Chuyi's vision go dark.

His favorite fried chicken, hotpot, barbecue, and spicy skewers—were they really going to be off-limits?

Even if he couldn’t eat them, just catching a whiff would be enough.

Unlike now, staring at a plate of boiled broccoli so green it made him lose his appetite.

Song Chuyi, who adored human food, couldn’t help but feel a pang of resentment.

Ji Feng’s chopsticks paused mid-air as he narrowed his eyes, studying the doll closely.

Was he imagining things?

Why did Yi Yi seem a little upset right now?

No way, that couldn’t be right.

Snapping back to reality, Ji Feng reminded himself that Yi Yi was just a doll—no voice, no movement, no thoughts of its own.

A doll couldn’t possibly feel upset, could it?

Ji Feng let out a soft chuckle, raised his hand, and stuck the chopsticks into Yi Yi’s mouth.

He wiggled them around a little.

"Even if Yi Yi isn’t real, it’s fine."

His voice was barely above a whisper.

"As long as you’re mine, nothing else matters."

Who cares if it’s fake?

Who’s to say this world is even real?

If the world’s a lie, then his fake Yi Yi might as well be real.

With a soft laugh, he pulled out the chopsticks and kissed Yi Yi.

Song Chuyi’s eyes widened in shock.

They were just talking—why the sudden kiss?

Ji Feng really doesn’t follow the script.

The kiss went on and on, and Song Chuyi faintly tasted something warm trickling into his mouth.

The metallic tang of blood filled his mouth.

Song Chuyi stared at Ji Feng, wide-eyed with surprise.

But Ji Feng chose that moment to release him.

His lips, already a soft flesh tone, now shimmered with streaks of a deep, captivating blood-red.

Ji Feng lightly licked his lips, intensifying the blood-red hue, then chuckled softly before speaking.

"Do you like it, Yi Yi?"

"My blood."

He swiped his thumb across his own lips, then pressed it firmly against Yi Yi's.

Yi Yi's naturally pink lips were now smeared with blood-red, eerily stunning and breathtaking.

Ji Feng's smile widened, brimming with satisfaction.

"Yi Yi really likes it."

He cradled Yi Yi's head, giving it a slight nod, then softly stroked his hair.

"Alright, just one kiss for today, okay?"

With a grin, he grabbed his chopsticks and dug into the boiled broccoli.

As the blood took effect, Song Chuyi's head spun slightly, a wave of dizziness washing over him.

Ji Feng's blood slid smoothly down his throat, merging into his very being.

He felt a strange, almost surreal sensation, as though he might actually be able to lift his hand.

But his hand remained lifeless, dangling uselessly at his side.

When his hand refused to budge, Song Chuyi focused on blinking instead.

To his delight, it worked!

Song Chuyi's heart leapt with joy, realizing Xiaotong's mention of the antagonist's bodily fluids wasn't limited to just one type.

Blood was just as effective!

Sure, he could only move his eyes for now, but it was progress!

Hey, at least he could roll his eyes at Ji Feng now—every little bit counts!