Simply relying on postponing Ma Zao's departure day by day would never truly keep her by my side.

There must be a hard deadline in her heart. The initial "three days" she mentioned was like the expiration date on food packaging—there’s often a buffer zone between the stated expiration and the actual spoilage. Once that buffer zone is gone, so too will any room for sweet talk and persuasion.

That morning, after she woke up and finished breakfast, we sat together in the living room watching TV. The news was reporting on the "mysterious explosion at an unfinished building" near Xianshui University, an incident caused by none other than myself. The experts, with a tone of finality, concluded the incident was due to a gas explosion. Regardless of how Mount Luo currently views the question of whether "supernatural should continue to be concealed," it’s clear that the official stance is still to keep them hidden.

When the program entered a commercial break, Ma Zao informed me that she was leaving. Her expression made it clear this wasn’t a discussion, but rather a perfunctory notice.

Of course, there was no way I would just let her leave without a fight.

And over these past few days, I’ve also come up with a plan to make her stay willingly.

This was my first time putting so much thought into tricking a girl, and I’d made plenty of missteps earlier. But as the saying goes, practice makes perfect. Through these days of trial and error, I’ve gradually honed my approach.

At first, my ideas revolved around luring her with delicious food, giving her an upset stomach so she’d have no choice but to stay, or making excuses like "the package won’t arrive until tomorrow." These tricks were minor ploys, capable only of slight delays.

The reason she was willing to stay at my place before was that she truly believed she needed time to recover and hide. Now, however, she no longer faints at the drop of a hat, can walk steadily without stumbling, and looks visibly healthier. It wouldn’t even be surprising if she could already use her spatial displacement powers again. In her eyes, I’m no longer essential.

As the saying goes, "A thousand books of false knowledge can be summed up in a single truth." What I truly need to do now is simple: make her feel that I, as a person, am indispensable to her.

Once I found the right approach, inspiration and clever ideas came flooding in, one bad scheme after another forming into detailed plans. Who would’ve thought I had a talent for deceiving girls? It’s almost ironic—after hitting rock bottom in certain areas of my life, my mind has only become clearer. As I repeatedly refine the plan taking shape in my head, I grow increasingly confident.

By now, Ma Zao had risen from the sofa.

She was no longer wearing my gray T-shirt and pants but the clothes and shoes I had bought for her online.

Though I used to mock Chang’an in my head for his poor fashion sense, I must admit I don’t have much of an eye for clothing coordination either. My grasp of color combinations is shallow at best, and when it comes to women’s fashion, I’m utterly clueless. However, I do have one superficial trick: when unsure of what colors to pick, black is always a safe choice.

She was now dressed in a black printed hoodie and a short skirt, her slender legs wrapped in black cotton tights, and on her feet were a pair of black ankle-length Martin boots. The only exception to her otherwise dark-toned outfit was the red GPS bracelet I had given her, which stood out against the ensemble. From my own aesthetic perspective, the outfit seemed safe from any fashion faux pas, and she hadn’t voiced any complaints about it either.

Seeing the beautiful girl wearing clothes I had personally chosen for her gave me an unprecedented sense of novelty. I couldn’t help but start considering ways to further refine her look.

At that moment, I noticed Ma Zao walking toward the entryway, pulling her hood down to conceal her face. I decided to speak up: “Let’s go out together.”

“Together?”

She stopped in her tracks. Over the past couple of days, it was clear she had built up some resistance to my sweet talk. Hearing me speak now, she turned to look at me with a wary gaze.

“You’re still unfamiliar with a lot about the outside world, aren’t you? I can show you around,” I said, rising from the sofa. “Let’s grab a meal, explore a bit, and then part ways amicably. That way, we can give this a proper ending. Consider it my farewell gift to you.”

Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.

“If someone sees you with a wanted criminal like me…” she said, still hesitant.

“It’s fine. Just wear this.”

I took out the mask I had prepared in advance—a black cotton mask with a white whiskered cat design.

She questioned, “Wearing something that hides my face like this, wouldn’t that make me look even more suspicious?”

“Don’t worry, wearing a mask while out and about has been perfectly normal these past few years,” I reassured her.

After some thought, she nodded in agreement, took the cat-whiskered mask, and put it on before heading out with me.

Once we were downstairs, the morning sunlight bathed her entire figure. She looked up at the sky, seemingly moved by the open space she hadn’t experienced in a while.

I felt something unusual at that moment. Even though we’d been living together for several days, this was the first time I was walking with her under the sunlight. To clarify, I’m absolutely not objectifying Ma Zao here—what I felt was perhaps akin to taking a cat or dog outside for the first time, with no leash in hand. I was nervous she might suddenly run off to a place where I couldn’t catch her.

She turned to glance back at my apartment and then looked at me with a relaxed expression.

“What is it?” I asked, puzzled by her gaze.

“It’s nothing...” Despite saying this, two seconds later, she spoke her mind. “Don’t laugh at me. Even though I’m small and not very... endowed, I do think my face is pretty. At least, that’s how I see it. So, well... I’ve always had this slight suspicion.”

“What suspicion?”

“That you might actually be some kind of creep who wanted to keep me captive. That the reason you’ve been so nice to me was because you were attracted to my body...” she said, adding, “But now I see I was mistaken. I’m sorry.”

“...” For a moment, I didn’t even know how to respond.

Although I wasn’t the kind of person she suspected, I had entertained the thought of keeping her captive, and it remained my last resort if all else failed.

Deflecting the topic while testing the waters, I asked, “More importantly, are you feeling okay now? You won’t suddenly collapse, will you?”

“I’m much better. While the damage to my soul won’t heal so easily, I can at least run without any issues now.”

“But I’ve noticed you’ve been spacing out a lot recently,” I remarked.

She gave an unexpected answer. “That’s because I’ve been meditating.”

“Meditating?” I was taken aback.

Wasn’t that the legendary state of mindfulness and focus that I’d only read about in books—the one I couldn’t achieve even after developing my superpowers?

“Meditation helps restore the soul and conceal one’s aura. This effect lasts even after the meditation ends. Plus, it can be done in any posture or setting, which makes it ideal for my current condition,” she explained. “Right now, my soul is damaged and prone to leaking unnecessary aura. The person who ambushed me last time likely tracked me down through this.”

“The person who ambushed you?” I latched onto this crucial detail.

Only then did she realize she’d said too much and immediately stopped, withholding any further information. Perhaps she was afraid of dragging me into her troubles. Right now, she was like a lone hero in the shadows, determined to shoulder everything herself.

In this state, she wouldn’t reveal anything more. I made a mental note to dig deeper later.

We left the residential area and stepped onto the bustling street. It was the morning rush hour, and the sidewalks were packed with hurried office workers and students. At a street cart, I bought two pouches of sweet soy milk, intentionally letting her see the entire transaction.

She noticed me pulling out my phone and scanning a QR code. Perhaps she’d seen something similar on TV before, but if she really was a time traveler from a post-apocalyptic world, this might be her first time witnessing it in person. Her curious gaze betrayed her fascination with this unfamiliar technology.

I handed her one of the soy milk pouches, and after we moved away from the cart, I explained, “What you just saw was mobile payment. It works by using a mobile device to scan a QR code to complete the transaction.”

“Mobile payment, mobile devices... So, as long as you have a phone, you can do it?” she asked inquisitively.

"Not just that. You also need to download the relevant app and link it to your bank account, which must have money in it. And applying for a bank account requires certain procedures, including providing identification," I explained.

"Identification..." She worked to digest this information. "Can fugitives apply for bank accounts?"

"Of course not," I said. "These days, mobile electronic payments dominate society, especially in big cities, where people are gradually moving away from cash. It’s becoming increasingly hard to live and operate in society without adapting to this system. Many elderly people, who struggle to keep up with modern trends, often encounter difficulties with this, as you've probably seen in the news."

As I spoke, I observed her reactions. She lifted the lower half of her mask to sip the sweet soy milk, a thoughtful look appearing on her face.

Emphasizing the problems she couldn’t easily overcome but needed to—and framing myself as essential to solving them—was the core of my plan. Right now, I was like a cunning interviewer, carefully trying to chip away at her firm resolve.

And this was just step one.

I also needed to further increase my value by providing her with additional, relevant information. For instance, that those pursuing her weren’t limited to the obvious forces but also included Mount Luo, a shadowy organization lurking in the background. Or that the body she now inhabited originally belonged to a girl suffering from Soul Loss Syndrome.

Soul Loss Syndrome was something only demon hunters knew about, and based on Ma Zao’s statements, she hadn’t yet been exposed to the hidden world beneath the surface of this era. This suggested she might not even know what Soul Loss Syndrome was.

I was deeply curious about how she would react upon learning this concept, but I also had to tread carefully. My current identity in her eyes was that of an ordinary person, so I needed a solid pretext to reveal such obscure information.

After carefully drafting my plan, I began to lie again.