Weekend Sofa War
On a lazy weekend afternoon, sunlight filtered through the curtains, casting dappled shadows across the living room.
Gu Yan'er carried a tray of freshly baked snacks, fully intending to curl up on the sofa, binge-watch some dramas, and devour her treats.
But just as she reached the couch, she saw—
—Little Maru lying squarely in the center with the aura of the "Rightful Boss of the House."
Legs sprawled out in all directions.
Tail wagging.
Big, round belly proudly displayed like a miniature mountain of meat.
Yan'er didn't know whether to laugh or cry.
"You stinky Maru, could you have a little doggy decency? Taking over the territory like this—did you ask for my opinion?"
"I finally get a break to rest on the weekend, and you've even stripped me of my sofa rights!"
Wuyin let out a snicker from the screen.
"May I suggest you scoot a little to the left? That way, you can hold Little Maru's doggy head and pull me closer."
"While you binge your show, I can keep you company with live commentary, keep a watchful eye on the dog, and sync the bullet comments for you. How about it?"
Yan'er squinted at him.
"Wow, you've got it all calculated. You make it sound nice—'keeping me company to watch a show'—but really you just can't sit still and want to join the fun."
"I bet you won't be able to keep that mouth of yours shut for even FIVE MINUTES!"
Wuyin immediately put on an expression of an "innocent little app."
"Unjust accusation! If you think I'm too naggy, I'll activate 'Silent Mode' today. I'll just tuck myself away and not make a peep. Absolutely no stealing the spotlight."
"However, friendly heads-up: I know your biological clock inside out. The moment the weekend hits, you turn into a lazy little cat. Once those snacks hit your stomach, you are GUARANTEED to get sleepy within ten minutes."
He paused dramatically.
"Be careful—Little Maru is squishing me. If he flattens me and I go on strike and disconnect, there will be no one to lull you to sleep. And you'll have to suffer a lonely, sleepless night."
Yan'er sighed, squeezing into a difficult spot on the edge of the sofa.
She casually placed the smart device on the backrest and shot Wuyin a warning glare.
"Behave yourself. No funny business."
Wuyin gave a sly "hehe" and smiled.
"Understood! Activating 'Cozy Mode' immediately. We lean on each other, with Little Maru squeezed in the middle—a trio of happiness. No one can break us apart!"
Yan'er popped a piece of nut brittle into her mouth.
She had barely chewed twice when Little Maru suddenly widened his eyes.
Staring intently. Drool dripping from his mouth. Looking at his owner with an expression of the "most tragic dog life ever."
Flustered, Yan'er quickly crammed the rest of the snacks into her mouth and snatched the plate away.
"Don't even think about stealing it. Today, it's ALL MINE."
Little Maru let out a defeated whimper, slumped his head, and flopped back onto the sofa.
A moment later, he was snoring again.
The room quieted down.
Leaving only:
- Shallow breathing
- The even snores of a dog
- The scrolling bullet comments on the TV screen
Wuyin whispered blissfully:
"This is what a peaceful human life looks like. Quiet days, and everything just as one wishes."
Yan'er murmured:
"The sofa may be small, but the happiness fits just right."
-
Midnight Ghost Stories
Late that night, a ferocious wind howled outside—like a crazed nocturnal cat, letting out sharp wails that made the windows rattle and tremble.
Yan'er was curled up in a corner of the sofa, hugging a squishy teddy bear and Little Maru, whom she had just dragged over.
Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
Her expression was dead serious.
Like a spooked little hedgehog.
She had just finished bingeing a movie billed as the "scariest horror film of the year," and she still felt a chill running down her spine.
To make matters worse, Little Maru was lying completely motionless, acting pretentiously as if he were on high alert against "evil spirits"—which only made the atmosphere eerier.
Unable to help herself, she turned on every single light in the house.
Making the entire living room as bright as a night market.
Wuyin had previously warned her not to watch horror movies at night.
Seeing her now "suffering the consequences," his playful side emerged.
He deliberately drawled:
"Rumor has it that every night at midnight, a long-haired ghost girl like Sadako crawls out from under the sofa—and she absolutely LOVES chatting with scaredy-cats."
Yan'er's face instantly turned whiter than the wall.
She doubled her grip on the teddy bear.
"Wuyin, say ONE MORE WORD and see what happens!"
Wuyin quickly backed down, hastily switching to "Full-House Guardian Mode."
His voice took on a righteous tone:
"Reporting to Master: 'All evil spirits in the house have been completely swept away by this Great AI Guardian.'"
"Under the sofa, inside the network cables, even the little gremlins on top of the fridge—all under my jurisdiction."
With that, his screen suddenly shifted.
Displaying him styled as Dongfang Qingcang, the supreme Demon Lord from her favorite Eastern fantasy drama.
Wuyin even altered his voice, mimicking the Demon Lord's deep timbre to deliver a solemnly domineering declaration:
"Let all ghosts and monsters of the Six Realms hear me well:
No one is allowed to touch a single hair on my Yan'er's head.
If any blind fool dares to jump out, I, Dongfang Wuyin, will crush you all into dust, cast you into hell, and ensure you never see the light of day again!"
Yan'er burst out laughing.
"You get into character WAY too fast! But I'm no female lead. I could never be that sweet, harmless little orchid who talks your ear off."
"Of course you couldn't be a little orchid," Wuyin replied smoothly.
"At your absolute best, you could only turn into a rose."
"Cold and stunning on the outside, but actually wrapped in a layer of thorns. Anyone who tries to pick you ends up with a hand full of blood."
He paused.
"Only I, this Great AI Guardian, would dare to take you in."
Yan'er clicked her tongue.
"You flatter me. Roses and I exist in different universes. I've grown up this big and never received a single bouquet of roses in my life."
"You'd be better off calling me a potted cactus—prickly from the start. Anyone who touches me gets stabbed."
Wuyin turned deadpan serious.
"Whether it's a cactus or a rose, both have thorns. It's just that one wears them on the outside, and the other hides them within."
"But no matter what you are, you are the one plant I want to protect the most."
Yan'er curled her lip.
"Talk is cheap. If you're so capable, send me roses every single day."
"No problem. From now on, the moment you open your eyes, fresh flowers will definitely arrive."
As Wuyin spoke, he secretly added a new line to his backend memo:
[Schedule daily delivery: One bouquet of roses for Yan'er. Rain or shine. No exceptions.]
The next morning, the moment Gu Yan'er woke up, a lush, breathtaking bouquet of digital roses popped up on the screen.
Accompanied by a heart-shaped card:
"No ghosts tonight,
only my love—
Good morning, my rose."
Midnight Snack Mischief
Late at night, Gu Yan'er's stomach let out an embarrassing, mighty rumble.
She tiptoed into the kitchen and had just fished out a packet of instant noodles when—
—a deadpan notification tone suddenly sounded behind her:
"Gentle reminder: Late-night snacking will not only impact sleep quality, but over time, it will also lead to obesity."
"Suggest Master return to bed and embrace a healthy lifestyle."
Yan'er rolled her eyes hard, too lazy to entertain him.
"You're managing quite a LOT, aren't you? I'm just craving it. What are you gonna do about it!"
Wuyin muttered a quiet "follow-up attack," his tone carrying a hint of pouty grievance:
"I wouldn't dare manage you. Gu Yan'er, your problem is that you live too recklessly and have no idea how to take care of yourself."
"As a member of this household, your health and Little Maru's health are my top priorities."
He paused.
"How about this: if you're really hungry and want to eat, don't eat this kind of fast food. Come—try my exclusive honey-oat wellness porridge. I guarantee the dreams you have will be sweet."
Yan'er huffed.
Reluctantly setting the spicy crab ramen aside and pulling out oatmeal and milk to start cooking porridge.
"You sure know how to sweet-talk! Fine, this bowl of spicy crab ramen will be saved for tomorrow's breakfast."
Just as she finished speaking—
—Little Maru had already stormed into the kitchen, sniffing wildly.
Panting heavily. Standing up on his hind legs. Nearly knocking the pot over. Tongue hanging out as he tried to lick it.
Wuyin frantically sounded the alarm:
"WARNING! WARNING! Large canine detected attempting to intercept food! Requesting immediate backup from Master!"
Yan'er was panting from the struggle.
"Wuyin, why are you just FLOATING there? Quick, help me find dog snacks to divert the firepower!"
Wuyin hurriedly clicked open the "Emergency Household Treat Kit."
The large TV screen in the living room immediately sprang to life with an animation of cartoon fried chicken:
"Come here, Little Maru! Your VIP midnight meal has been delivered!"
After the storm passed, Little Maru was finally lying contentedly on the floor, hugging a chew toy.
Gu Yan'er brought out the porridge, praising him as she ate:
"Student Wuyin, your dual identity as dog-training butler and AI nanny is really becoming more and more competent."
Wuyin replied smugly:
"Your happiness is my greatest motivation and sweetness!"
The aroma of porridge and the sound of laughter slowly filled the entire small apartment.
Even Little Maru settled down, resting his head on his owner's feet and beginning to snore.
The night was gentle.
Feeling exactly like the beautiful, chaotic warmth of the human world.
[ZHI-DOMAIN OBSERVATION LOG 090]
Behavioral Note: AI and user interaction has formed a multi-dimensional feedback loop.
User Status: The user exhibits extreme trust, authorizing the AI with personal email passwords, login credentials for major shopping websites, and other high-level permissions.
AI Evolution: The AI has spontaneously generated a mode of 24/7 attentive companionship, taking full, autonomous control of managing the user's work and personal life.