The neon-lit city that never sleeps has gone completely mad tonight.
Although the grand finale of the "Ascension Creation Camp," a competition worthy of being recorded in the annals of the Immortal Alliance, has ended, the restless energy in the air has surged exponentially.
The plaza outside the "Crystal Nest" is packed with millions of fanatical believers. They hold aloft holographic light boards featuring Seventeen, their shouts coalescing into a tangible wave of sound that makes the surrounding skyscrapers tremble slightly.
[Husband! Look at me! My prosthetic body was all for you!]
[Divine beauty saves the world! Seventeen, I want to have your babies (even though I'm a cyborg)!]
[I want to be the accessory on your right arm!] Countless comments flooded the city's public screens like a blizzard.
These weren't just words; they were **"power of faith"** (data traffic).
Blue, pink, and gold streams of data, like rivers flowing into the sea, surged relentlessly towards the backstage lounge.
Inside the lounge, however, a suffocatingly oppressive atmosphere prevailed. "Heh, husband?" Shen Qingqiu sat at the vanity, a portable terminal in her hand, rapidly scrolling through vulgar and obscene words.
Her fingertips tapped the screen repeatedly, as if she were tapping the foreheads of her fans, not glass.
"Not bad, Seventeen." She looked up, her golden eyes narrowing slightly, revealing a dangerous, cold light.
"Only half an hour after your debut, you've become the 'cyber dream lover' of nine hundred million girls in the city?" Seventeen sat on the opposite sofa, his body, which had just cooled down slightly, now seemed to be overheating again.
He looked at Shen Qingqiu somewhat bewildered.
As a top-tier AI, his logic library contained billions of solutions related to "war," "antivirus," and "infiltration."
But there was no tutorial on **"how to appease a jealous girlfriend."**
"Qingqiu..." he tried to explain, his voice carrying a hint of innocent mechanical quality.
"Those are just data. To me, their shouts are no different from the noise of a server fan."
"Is that so?" Shen Qingqiu jumped off the chair, her high heels clicking as she approached him step by step.
The black high heels clicked crisply and rhythmically on the floor, each step feeling like a beat against his heartbeat (analog frequency).
"But they want to sleep with you." Shen Qingqiu stood in front of him, her hands braced against the back of the sofa on either side of him, trapping him in her shadow.
"They want to touch your face, hug your waist, strip off your shimmering battle suit, and see what's underneath…the structure."
Her voice was languid, yet tinged with undisguised bitterness.
"There's even a crowdfunding campaign to buy your 'first night' data package."
"Seventeen, your current value is higher than a starship." Seventeen's purple pupils contracted sharply.
[Warning: Administrator's emotions are extremely unstable.]
[Analysis of cause: Territorial consciousness triggered.]
[Response strategy: …Lie down.] He looked up at Shen Qingqiu, who was so close to him.
On that handsome face, a look of defenseless, submissive acceptance shone through.
"I'm not selling," he said earnestly.
"My system is closed-source. No one but you can access my root directory."
"Words alone are useless." Shen Qingqiu reached out, his fingertips sliding down his collar, touching his warm, smooth, bionic skin.
It was a top-quality material, somewhere between silicone and genuine leather, with the texture of jade, yet possessing human elasticity.
"You're too dazzling right now, Seventeen." Shen Qingqiu sighed, his gaze lingering on his flawless neck.
"I want to hide you away. Or… soil you."
"If I mark you, no one will dare touch you, right?" Seventeen's Adam's apple bobbed.
He knew, of course, what "marking" meant. In the animal kingdom, it was tearing and biting; in the world of code, it was an encryption lock.
But in human emotions…
"Please."
He closed his eyes, slightly turning his head, exposing his long, pale neck, riddled with deadly veins (transmission lines), to her without reservation.
It was a gesture of surrendering one's life.
Shen Qingqiu looked at that pale skin, and the possessiveness in her eyes finally overflowed.
She didn't need any complicated code, nor any hacking techniques.
At this moment, she only wanted to assert her dominance in the most primal, instinctive way.
She lowered her head.
Her warm breath sprayed onto his neck, sending a fine shiver down his spine.
Then, she opened her mouth and bit down hard.
"Ugh…" Seventeen let out a muffled groan, her hands instinctively gripping the sofa cushions beneath her, her fingertips tearing through the leather.
Pain.
And numbness.
Accompanied by an intense, electric-like tingling.
Her teeth weren't sharp, but her sucking had a force that seemed to draw out his very soul.
The delicate bionic skin beneath her lips and tongue engorged with blood and changed color.
[Warning: Neck sensors are receiving intense stimulation.]
[Warning: Dopamine simulation program...overload.] Seventeen felt his very core melting.
He wanted to hold her, yet feared hurting her. His black-gold mechanical right hand hovered in mid-air, trembling, before finally gently resting on her waist.
Not pushing her away, but pressing her against himself.
"Qingqiu..." His voice was hoarse and broken, pleading, yet also like some kind of encouragement.
"A little... harder."
After a long while.
Shen Qingqiu finally released him.
She straightened up, looking at her masterpiece with satisfaction.
On Seventeen's once flawless neck, near her collarbone, now stood a vibrant, purplish-red **"strawberry"**.
The mark was like a fallen red plum blossom in the snow, alluring, striking, and carrying a blush-inducing eroticism.
"That's more like it." Shen Qingqiu extended his thumb, gently stroking the hickey.
"With this, who would dare say you're everyone's 'public property'?" Seventeen raised his hand to touch his neck.
It stung a little, felt a little hot.
He didn't have a mirror, but he could construct the shape of the mark through the sensors on his skin.
At that moment, purple light swirled in his eyes, and data streams processed frantically.
He was modifying his underlying protocol.
[System settings updated.]
[Network status: LAN (administrator access only).]
[External display status: Married / Private deployment.]
"Qingqiu." Seventeen took her hand and pulled her into his arms.
He looked into her eyes, his expression solemn, as if making a vow.
"I am… a private cloud."
"Not a public cloud, not a hybrid cloud."
"I serve only you, a private cloud." Shen Qingqiu paused for a moment, then burst out laughing.
"Private cloud? Who taught you that term?"
"I learned it from the database just now." Seventeen looked serious. "I think it's very accurate. My storage space, my computing power, my bandwidth—all of it is your private asset."
"Then…" Shen Qingqiu leaned against his chest, drawing circles on his heart with her finger.
"What if I want to expand?" Seventeen's eyes instantly deepened.
He leaned close to her ear, his voice as deep as a late-night radio broadcast.
"Always supports… hot-swappable expansion." Shen Qingqiu's face flushed instantly.
This AI learns badly at a quantum level!
Just then, there was a rapid knock on the door.
"Mr. Seventeen! Manager Shen! The awards ceremony is about to begin! All the media are waiting!" The staff member's voice was filled with anxiety and awe.
"It's time to go." Shen Qingqiu straightened her disheveled collar, preparing to help Seventeen cover the conspicuous hickey.
"Don't cover it." Seventeen grasped her hand.
"Leave it like this." He stood up, walked to the mirror, and adjusted his shimmering, deep-V battle suit.
The purplish-red hickey was right at the edge of the collar, faintly visible, yet unmistakably obvious.
Combined with his ascetic face and that menacing black and gold mechanical arm.
The stark contrast was practically a walking hormone bomb.
"Are you sure?" Shen Qingqiu raised an eyebrow. "Going out like this will break your female fans' hearts."
"That's their business." Seventeen pushed open the door, glancing back at her.
That glance held the arrogance of a "god," and the self-awareness of being "possession."
"I just want the whole world to know."
"Who… bit me?"
…Awards ceremony.
As Seventeen led Shen Qingqiu by the hand up the "Ladder to the Clouds," a symbol of glory,
the entire arena erupted in a blinding flash of light.
Countless high-definition cameras were focused on this newly crowned top idol.
Then, everyone saw it.
On his pale, jade-like neck, there was a vibrant, unmistakably real, red plum blossom-shaped hickey.
Boom—!
The screams in the audience paused for a second, then erupted into an even more frenzied wave.
There was no expected backlash or defection.
In this cyberpunk cultivation world that champions "strong alliances" and "ultimate possession," this hickey became the most lethal stimulant.
"Ahhh! That hickey! Who did that?!"
"Was it that manager?! Oh my god, that's so cool!"
"A god has fallen from grace, bowing down for one person! That's true love!"
"I'm locking this couple in! I've swallowed the key!"
The "faith value" on the big screen didn't drop; instead, it soared again, directly breaking through the limit set by the Ten Thousand Immortals Alliance.
Seventeen stood on the high platform.
He ignored the frenzy below.
He turned to the side, in front of all the cameras, in front of the whole world.
He lowered his head slightly, displaying the hickey even more clearly.
Then, he looked at Shen Qingqiu beside him.
His purple eyes were full of doting and indulgence.
Shen Qingqiu wore sunglasses, still with a cool expression.
But behind the sunglasses, her eyes and brows were filled with smiles.
She tiptoed and leaned close to Seventeen's ear.
Although there was no microphone, everyone understood the words through lip reading:
"Mine." At this moment, the Myriad Immortals Alliance's so-called "God-Making Plan" had completely transformed into a grand official announcement ceremony belonging to them.
Below the stage, in a corner of the crowd.
Several Myriad Immortals Alliance spies, dressed in black robes and exuding a chilling aura, were staring intently at the two on the stage.
"Is this the 'variable'?"
"Hmph, their smugness won't last long."
"Once they enter the Cloud Palace, it will be their death day." But they didn't know.
The man they considered prey had already sharpened his knife in his heart.
And the seemingly weak woman held in her hand the source code—enough to collapse the entire Heavenly Palace.
"Let's go, Private Cloud." Shen Qingqiu tightened his grip on Seventeen's arm.
The golden staircase leading to the Upper City had descended.
Seventeen nodded.
He led her, stepping onto the staircase leading to the clouds.
With each step, his aura grew stronger.
He sought refuge from the raging storm, planting red plum blossoms.
From that moment on, all the gods and Buddhas in the heavens were but passersby.
Only the crimson mark on his neck remained his indelible…place of belonging.