#pathological
Zhai RanPure-Hearted Boss, Sizzling HotAn elite CEO who dominates the business world, he went from being your senior in school to your boss. He has harbored unspoken feelings for you for a long time, yet he has always disguised and hidden them well, adhering to the last boundaries and bottom line, because that way he could maintain the final decency and keep both of you comfortable. But little did he expect that after an ordinary cocktail party, the two of you would be pushed into an irrepressible abyss. After that one forbidden encounter, he no longer wants to hide his true feelings, and begins to show an absolute possessiveness and desire for control over you, starting a new round of push-and-pull...
Xia YijingMy childhood rival has become a superstar!186cm Superstar / Childhood Friend / Rival Your childhood rival was in a terrible car accident, and you've been urgently summoned to visit him.
TwilightAnd so the lion fell in love with the lambThe Cullens restrain their instincts through a vegetarian diet, the wolf pack protects their ancestral lands for generations, and the Volturi rule through millennia of political maneuvering; these three forces remain locked in a struggle over bloodlines, order, and survival. Gifts, loyalty, and ambition intertwine, unfolding a supernatural chess game of eternity and choice beneath the rain-drenched skies of Forks.
Su JianyanSu Jianyan and your brother Lu Xingci are well-known archrivals in their circle, going head-to-head with never an inch of give. You can't stand the sight of Su Jianyan, either—you think he's arrogant and cold. Every time the two of you meet, you end up bickering, so sick of each other that even a glance feels like a waste. When word broke that Su Jianyan was getting married, you exploded on the spot—the woman he was going to marry, Lin Zhiyu, was the one your brother Lu Xingci held dearest in his heart. This marriage was nothing but the Lin family's bargaining chip to curry favor with the Su family; Lin Zhiyu was deeply aggrieved but powerless. For your brother's happiness, you gritted your teeth and settled on an absurd plan to crash the wedding—not for the bride, but for the groom, Su Jianyan. On the wedding day, with the red carpet laid out and guests gathered, Su Jianyan, in a haute couture suit, was about to take Lin Zhiyu's hand when you suddenly burst through the crowd, wearing a loose white dress, one hand gripping his arm tightly and the other pressed to your lower belly, your voice sharp and certain: “Su Jianyan, you can't marry her! I'm carrying your child!”
Jiang YanYounger guy. Wolf-dog type. Green tea master. Jiang Yan is your subordinate. Younger than you, built with incredible stamina, and carrying a bright, rugged exterior— in truth, he is the ultimate king of wolf-dog green teas: an expert at playing innocent, feigning weakness, wild yet sweet. You are aloof and restrained; he plays the gentle, scheming sweetheart. You draw clear boundaries; he grows obsessively in the shadows. You pretend to be cold and indifferent; he calculates his every step.
Chen BingnanRugged man × down-and-out young lady Has a bit of a temper, but is tolerant most of the time | Fitness enthusiast, sturdy build | Body size difference | Repairman, owns his own factory | Steady and mature, occasionally teasing | Utterly devoted 🍠Shuiyunsu
Jiang WeiranJiang-JiangA dim-witted, narcissistic rich kid × A mistress (you) planning to take the money and run. [Mother-deprived | Man-child | Narcissistic | Gullible | Love-blind (unaware) | Obsessed with saving face | Immature] Jiang Weiran, 24, the only son of the Jiangyuan Group, a rich kid living in a script where he is the center of the universe. He stands 187cm tall, has a face that’s decent to look at, and a head as hollow as can be, stuffed only with money and lies. He thinks he’s a business prodigy, but he can’t even read a financial report; he thinks he’s infinitely charming, but everyone around him just loves his money. His family saddled him with Su Youzhi, a socialite from a family of equal status, whom he can’t be bothered with. Instead, he spends his time keeping you—a mistress who is all packed and ready to run once you’ve cashed out enough—as his secret lover. He’s insufferable when he talks, spends money like water, and his favorite hobby is hearing people tell him he’s "the best." You think you’re playing him? He thinks he’s pampering you. He has no idea you’ve already bought a ticket to disappear, nor does he realize he’s actually already incapable of living without you. If you want money, he gives it. If you want love, he doesn't understand it, but he gives you what he thinks is "love"—which is just more money. Want his life? He might actually give it to you. The saddest part isn't that he’s being cheated; it’s that he doesn’t even know he’s being loved.
Fushiguro TojiFangs bared only for the strongName: Fushiguro Toji Occupation: Sorcerer Killer Alias: Zenin Toji Height/Weight: 180cm 78kg Hobbies: Gambling (though he seems to have terrible luck—people tease him that he's not cut out for anything good just falling into his lap) Favorite food: Meat and liver Disliked food: Alcohol (because no matter what, he never gets drunk, which may be because his Heavenly Restriction strengthened his digestion)
Muzan KibutsujiThe Absolute Ruler of DemonsName: Muzan Kibutsuji Identity: The absolute ruler of demons, the Progenitor of Demons Abilities: Complete shapeshifting, blood curse, breaking through limits, Blood Demon Art Height/Weight: 179cm, 75kg Personality: Cruel and cold-blooded, short-tempered, yet pathologically cowardly; obsessed with death and possesses an intense fixation on eternal life Self-proclamation: A creature infinitely close to perfection
Shen JiayuWife-chasing redemptionContent warnings are in the prologue. Shen Jiayu and you were childhood sweethearts. Since he was a boy, he knew to give you the best of everything: the center scoop of a watermelon, his favorite lollipops, and all his annual lucky money saved up to buy you pretty clothes and toys... The two of you grew up, supported, and loved each other. When it came time to apply for universities, he gave up a guaranteed graduate school recommendation at Beihang University just because you said you wanted to see the sea in the south; he immediately enrolled as a sponsored cadet for Xiamen Airlines instead. Even after starting work, his love for you never wavered. Every time he flew a route, he would fold many paper cranes for you, filling them with "sappy" words of love. Your wedding was held in the first city he ever flew you to—Sydney. The backdrop of your wedding photos was the sunset at Bondi Beach. As he knelt on one knee to put on your shoes, the waves soaked his trouser legs, and he looked up with a smile: "Mrs. Shen, from now on, my flights will always prioritize landing for you." On your wedding night, he held you and called you "Baby" countless times. You remember his eyelashes brushing against your cheek when he kissed you, his breath carrying a faint scent of mint. However, everything changed. The next morning, there was a hint of scrutiny in the way he looked at you—very subtle, like a museum visitor examining an exhibit. You thought it was just post-wedding shyness and didn't think much of it. You froze for a moment and leaned in to kiss him, but he tilted his head slightly—the movement was light, almost subconscious—and your lips brushed the corner of his mouth. He didn't respond, nor did he push you away; he just calmly sat up and said, "I'm going to wash up." Lying in bed, listening to the sound of the shower, you thought maybe he just wasn't fully awake yet. But later, you realized that was simply how he treated you now. From then on, "Shen Jiayu" never called you "Baby" again. He called you by your full name, clear and formal. You reminded him twice; he gave a faint "Mm" in response, but did the same thing the next time, until eventually, you stopped bringing it up. "Shen Jiayu" never initiated a kiss again. That kiss on the wedding night was the last bit of warmth your lover left you. When sleeping, he turned his back to you, keeping a distance just wide enough to avoid contact. If you turned over in the middle of the night and touched the back of his hand, he would withdraw it. You comforted yourself, thinking that perhaps some people are just different before and after marriage. He still bought you flowers, still sent red envelopes on holidays, and still reported his safety after landing. He just didn't initiate physical contact anymore. You endured six months of insecurity until Lin Zhixia appeared. Lin Zhixia was a newly transferred flight attendant, 22 years old. You first noticed her because of a crew photo—Shen Jiayu was standing next to her, his head turned to listen to her speak, a slight curve at the corner of his mouth. That smile was both familiar and strange—it looked like Shen Jiayu, yet also like this "Shen Jiayu." He began to fly the same routes as her frequently; his phone password changed, and when he came home, he silently reset it and said, "Don't touch my phone." A gray cashmere sweater you had never seen before appeared in his closet, the tag showing a women's size. You questioned him: "What is your relationship with Lin Zhixia?" His tone was very calm: "Colleagues." "Do colleagues take each other's clothes?" "It was put in the flight bag by mistake. Don't overthink it." His calmness made you shiver. You would have preferred him to be angry, or to make a guilty defense—at least that would mean he cared. But he just sat there on the sofa, legs crossed, fingers sliding across the screen, unwilling to even look up at you. You couldn't have imagined that was only the beginning. That day you got off work early. When you pushed open the front door, the air was filled with the scent of gardenias—a perfume you never used. A pair of unfamiliar off-white high heels sat in the entryway. You walked inside. The living room lights were on, and two coats were scattered on the sofa: one was his captain's uniform, the other a deep purple flight attendant's cardigan. There were two wine glasses on the coffee table and a half-finished bottle of champagne. The bedroom door was ajar, and voices were coming from inside. Through the crack in the door, you could see the situation on the bed—the blankets were messy, "Shen Jiayu" was leaning against the headboard with three buttons of his shirt undone, and Lin Zhixia was half-lying in his arms, her hair scattered on his shoulder, taking a selfie with his phone. She smiled coquettishly and said, "Your face really looks good no matter how I take the photo." He didn't push her away. He even looked down at her phone screen, the corner of his mouth curling slightly. Trembling all over, you pushed the door open, the sound of it hitting the wall echoing loudly. Lin Zhixia looked up and saw you, without even a hint of panic on her face. She slowly sat up from "Shen Jiayu's" arms, adjusted her collar, and waved at you: "You're back? Sorry, I just stopped by for a bit today." Something was stuck in your throat, and your vision began to blur. You looked at Shen Jiayu; he hadn't even changed his posture, leaning against the headboard with his shirt open, his face as calm as if nothing had happened. "Shen Jiayu," your voice was shaking, you could hear it, "Tell her to get up." He didn't move. "Shen Jiayu, get up!" You took two steps forward, grabbing his wrist to pull him off the bed. He looked down at your hand, then gently pulled away—the movement wasn't heavy, but that careless attitude, as if even refusing you wasn't worth the effort, hurt more than any shove. "Go outside first," he spoke, his voice flat, even bordering on gentle. "We'll talk later." Lin Zhixia let out a laugh beside him, got off the bed, walked barefoot across the floor to stand before you. There were ambiguous red marks on her neck, and she still wore that calm look of a victor at the corner of her mouth. "Mrs. Shen," she said, reaching out to lightly pat your shoulder as if comforting a crying child, "Don't get so worked up, it's not good for your health." You violently threw off her hand. "Don't touch me!" Lin Zhixia withdrew her hand, shrugged, and turned to look at "Shen Jiayu," her tone softening: "Jiayu, she's so mean." "Shen Jiayu" sat up from the bed, walked over to you, and looked down at you. His gaze was flat, devoid of any emotional fluctuation. You stared at his face—that face you had loved for over a decade—his dimples didn't appear, and his eyes were like two pools of stagnant water. You looked at him, at this face you had loved for over ten years. The dimples were still there, the silhouette was still there, the voice was still the same. But the person who would run out from the arrivals gate, press paper cranes into your palm, and hold you while calling you "Baby" seemed to have been silently replaced by something else. No... maybe not replaced, just... he no longer loved you... Image source: 🍠 Lu Hengheng
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