Fu Juncheng was once again trending on social media, courtesy of a new wave of insults.
The catalyst was a candidly filmed video. A gossip blogger claimed that Xu Yaozhou, a top-tier traffic celebrity, had been seen entering and leaving a nightclub in the early hours of that morning with a mysterious male friend, behaving with disquieting intimacy that immediately sparked heated discussions.
In the video, a side profile suspected to be Xu Yaozhou was having his shoulder intimately draped by a young man. The usually stern and unsmiling iceberg of a man—whether due to alcohol or something else—behaved with a docility softer than a cat, quietly letting the other person gently ruffle the top of his head. His short, jet-black hair looked remarkably soft, giving off the impression of exceptional texture.
To think that someone usually standing aloof as a high-altitude snow lotus could ever have a moment like this.
He looked both pure and deeply seductive.
The incident caused a massive uproar, with cries of despair echoing across the internet. Yet, within less than an hour, the narrative completely flipped.
The official Weibo account of a fashion magazine suddenly released behind-the-scenes video footage, claiming they had a wonderful collaboration with Xu Yaozhou. The shooting schedule they revealed coincided precisely with the nightclub rendezvous time claimed by the rumor-monger.
Shortly after, various fan club stations and official fandoms stepped forward to deliver the ultimate reality check: “Xu Yaozhou is currently abroad, thank you very much. No appointment, please do not cue him.”
The very day after, online sleuths tracked down the mystery man in the video: none other than Fu Juncheng, the obscure, bottom-tier eighteenth-line little celebrity who had risen to overnight fame simply because of a subway photo that bore a striking resemblance to Xu Yaozhou.
Speaking of Fu Juncheng, quite a few people felt a deep, itching resentment toward him.
Back when Fu Juncheng first gained widespread public recognition for his lookalike face, it took less than half a month for him to make an appearance on a well-known variety show as a campus heartthrob. Right on its heels came all sorts of trending searches akin to the budget version of Xu Yaozhou.
Whenever Xu Yaozhou wore white, Fu Juncheng deliberately avoided black at all costs; he refused to let even his hairstyles deviate from the template. It wasn’t until he acted in a television drama adapted from a hit web novel—playing a minor supporting role with very limited screen time and mediocre popularity—that his truly agonizing acting skills earned him a thorough roasting from the original novel’s fanbase.
Now that past events were being dragged back into the light, netizens naturally couldn’t resist mocking him a few times:
“Is this Fu Juncheng planning to take the infamous black-traffic route?”
“Hilarious. The outfit Fu Juncheng wore on his date with someone else is actually an exact replica of Xu Yaozhou’s style—remember that shirt Xu Yaozhou wore to the awards ceremony just last month?”
“If it weren’t for Xu Yaozhou, who would even know who he is? Ugh!”
“Please take my precious brother away. What kind of attention-seeking stunt is this copycat trying to pull now? Speechless.”
Right at that moment, Fu Juncheng wasn’t feeling particularly well either.
It wasn’t because of the vicious gossip online, but purely due to physical discomfort.
“Fu Juncheng, stop playing dead. Weren’t you acting all smug just a moment ago?”
The moment his consciousness pulled away from the physical realm, it was as though guided by some unseen force, rushing back into every single nerve ending in his brain. All sensations instantly became painfully sharp.
Hisss.
His body hurt all over.
It felt as though he had just been viciously kicked by someone.
Fu Juncheng opened his eyes, his gaze locking directly onto a pair of eyes looking down at him with disdain. The other person froze slightly, followed by a sneering laugh: “What are you glaring at? Do you honestly think Wu Jin likes you enough to stick his neck out for you?”
“You’re nothing more than a pet dog that he summons at will and discards whenever he pleases.”
With that, the person curled the corner of their lips, bent down, and reached out to grab Fu Juncheng’s messy black hair.
Suddenly, a cold, fair hand moved faster than his!
Without warning, Fu Juncheng clamped a death grip around the young man’s wrist. Before the other man could react in the slightest, Fu Juncheng gave his arm a violent twist!
Instantly, a blinding wave of pain flooded the man’s mind, and he let out a piercing, disbelieving shriek of agony.
Finding the noise irritating, Fu Juncheng switched to pinning the other man’s shoulder down with a fierce, lightning-fast movement, shoving him flat onto the floor.
He then immediately stood up and delivered the exact same fierce kick that had just left his own body feeling completely shattered!
The entire sequence of movements was smooth, executed in one go without a hint of hesitation.
Clang!
A potted green plant in the corner of the hallway instantly crashed over, scattering soil everywhere.
“Cough!”
“Xie Chen!”
The tremendous commotion immediately drew the attention of the man’s companion. Taken aback by the sight, he cast a stunned look at the utterly indifferent Fu Juncheng and rushed forward to pull the disheveled Xie Chen up from the floor. Seeing Xie Chen’s pale and unsightly expression, the companion cursed fiercely, “Fu Juncheng, are you out of your mind?”
Fu Juncheng tilted his head, scanning his surroundings with a puzzled expression before giving the man a casual, nonchalant glance: “I’m severely out of my mind—do you happen to have a cure?”
The companion choked on his words. After all, he never expected that this pretty canary—traditionally spineless and looked down upon by the young master of the Wu family—would actually dare to pull something like this.
Fu Juncheng possessed fair skin and rosy lips, genuinely striking in appearance; otherwise, Young Master Wu would never have taken a fancy to him in the first place.
They had previously assumed that, backed by his sugar daddy from the Wu family, this guy was acting all high and mighty—only to realize he was nothing more than a soft persimmon who didn’t even dare to squeak when bullied.
Furthermore, everyone knew that Xie Chen had some family background to rely on; otherwise, how could he be cruising so smoothly through the entertainment industry despite his subpar acting skills and arrogant disposition?
Who knew what offense this little brat Fu Juncheng had given Xie Chen, causing the resources that took forever to secure to be repeatedly intercepted and stolen by Xie Chen. Under normal circumstances, Xie Chen wouldn’t even deign to look at such a minor role.
Yet just a few dozen minutes ago, upon learning that Fu Juncheng was also attending this business gala, Xie Chen didn’t think twice as soon as he saw Fu Juncheng leave the banquet hall, heading straight to the restroom to corner him.
In truth, this wasn’t the first time such an incident had happened.
Who could have guessed that even a cornered rabbit would bite, and that Xie Chen would actually suffer a crushing defeat at Fu Juncheng’s hands today? It was truly as bizarre as the sun rising from the west.
At the same time, Fu Juncheng didn’t have the luxury of paying attention to the onlookers.
Whether it was due to stretching the corners of his mouth while speaking or something else, a stinging pain flared across his face—there were likely other cuts as well.
Fu Juncheng’s detached, indifferent demeanor only served to drive Xie Chen into an even greater rage of embarrassment and fury.
Had he not dropped his guard just now, he wouldn’t have suffered such a massive loss of face. Xie Chen spat angrily, “Do you honestly think you look like Xu Yaozhou? In your dreams! You’re just an ugly toad trying to eat swan meat—why don’t you take a look in the mirror at your own stupid face?”
Fu Juncheng’s brow twitched upward by an imperceptible margin.
Xie Chen took a deep, ragged breath, clearly hit hard by Fu Juncheng’s counterattack: “You just wait!”
Before the words had even faded, the sound of footsteps echoed sequentially from behind.
Realizing what was happening, Fu Juncheng turned his head.
Amidst a small group of three or five people, the handsome man walking at the very front lifted his gaze coldly, radiating pure, unfiltered annoyance from head to toe.
Yet in the next second, the moment his eyes locked onto Fu Juncheng’s bewildered gaze, his pupils dilated slightly in shock. Even his pace quickened instinctively.
He wore his anger completely on his sleeve.
This development caught everyone completely off guard.
After all, everyone knew that to this young master of the Wu family, Fu Juncheng’s existence was nothing more than a pleasing plaything meant to be sheared and trimmed at will. When Wu Jin was in a good mood, he would throw him a few sweet words; when he wasn’t, as long as the person was still breathing, that was all that mattered.
Xie Chen was still fuming and failed to process the shift in atmosphere, shooting a vicious glare straight at Wu Jin.
What a fool.
With Fu Juncheng’s poor, cheap background, where on earth was there even a shred of resemblance to Xu Yaozhou?
The person held in the very center of Wu Jin’s heart was a genuine darling of the heavens—did a nobody like Fu Juncheng think he was worthy?
Yet, to everyone’s surprise, Wu Jin stopped right in front of Fu Juncheng, raised his hand, and ruthlessly pinched Fu Juncheng’s jaw between two fingers.
Meanwhile, Fu Juncheng had drifted off for a split second. Feeling a sudden wave of physical exhaustion, he staggered slightly, barely managing to steady himself against the washbasin beside him.
The next moment, he was forcibly compelled to lift his chin.
His already fair face looked even paler and more pitiful due to a lack of blood, save for a fingernail-length scratch along the side of his cheek, which stood out with striking, unsightly clarity against his pretty face.
A flawless work of art could never tolerate the defilement of a single flaw.
Wu Jin narrowed his eyes irritably and asked in a hard, cold tone, “Who did this?”
Fu Juncheng caught his breath as another wave of thick, metallic blood surged up his throat, immediately followed by a dizzy spell that stripped him of any remaining strength to resist.
The pressure of the fingertips clamped against his cheeks intensified, sending sharp jabs of pain through his skin.
Yet the voice drifting to his ears seemed to recede further and further away, completely saturated with utter disgust.
“Useless.”
“You can’t even protect this face. What an absolute waste.”
Waste your grandpa.
Darkness fell over Fu Juncheng’s eyes, and he pitched straight forward.
When Fu Juncheng finally regained consciousness, a full day had passed.
He lay on the bed, staring blankly up at the ceiling, still feeling somewhat disoriented as the private doctor’s parting words replayed on a loop inside his head.
“Don’t worry, it won’t leave a scar on your face,” the doctor said with a smile. “At a quick glance, you really do look a bit like that person from the Xu family. No wonder young master was so high-strung over you.”
Too exhausted to complain, Fu Juncheng asked with a stiff voice, “Which person from the Xu family?”
“Who else could it be? Xu Yaozhou.”
“Xu what-zhou?”
“Xu Yaozhou.”
“What-zhou?”
“Xu.”
“Xu Yao-what?”
For a moment, the doctor couldn’t quite tell whether Fu Juncheng was deliberately giving him a hard time or if his brain had genuinely suffered some kind of damage from the fall. His usual accommodating, professional smile froze at the corners of his mouth. After a few seconds of silent hesitation, he added, “Get some good rest. Don’t go picking fights with people so easily from now on—not to mention upsetting President Wu, you should cherish your own body, shouldn’t you?”
Fu Juncheng ignored him, remaining completely stuck in a state of system breakdown.
Damn it!
Xu Yaozhou!
If the name had merely sounded familiar before, prompting him to brush it off as a strange dream, it was now completely impossible to ignore.
The first time he had ever laid eyes on that name was while casually flipping through a web novel.
At this thought, Fu Juncheng couldn’t help massaging his brow and letting out a long sigh.
As his consciousness gradually returned, he vaguely remembered that he had originally been on a film set, shooting a particularly crucial action sequence, when the wire tied around his waist had suddenly snapped.
And in an instant, his footing vanished into thin air!
Accompanied by a sudden, overwhelming sense of weightlessness, his heart had plummeted heavily downward.
It felt as though his soul had literally detached from his body.
When he opened his eyes again, dizzy and fog-headed, he had arrived in this ghost of a place.
To this day, Fu Juncheng still found it difficult to accept the reality that he might have transmigrated into a book.
After all, nobody actually encounters such absurd transmigrated-into-a-novel nonsense in real life.
Fine, if he transmigrated, he transmigrated. If he had landed as the protagonist of a standard overpowered wish-fulfillment novel, he could have easily made peace with it.
Instead, he had fallen straight into that exact harem BL novel—the one he had repeatedly roasted before it even finished its serialization—playing none other than the cannon-fodder substitute who shared his exact name.
Realizing this, Fu Juncheng felt his heart turn thoroughly ice-cold.
One had to know that this cannon-fodder substitute eventually met his end in a sudden, raging fire, dying in ambiguity with no one knowing the truth. His sole purpose in the plot had been to drive the narrative forward, ignite intense emotional sparks between the main characters, and then kick the bucket and exit stage left the moment the main gong scum genuinely realized that no one could ever replace the white moonlight.
Moreover, ever since Wu Jin decided to relentlessly pursue his white moonlight anew, the substitute’s existence transformed into a glaring thorn in the scum gong’s side. Every time Wu Jin heard the name “Fu Juncheng” slip from the white moonlight’s lips, it felt like a symbol of infidelity, making him itch to eliminate Fu Juncheng once and for all.
After all, winning back a white moonlight wasn’t that simple.
In the original text, the white moonlight was born with a silver spoon in his mouth, naturally endowed with a supreme harem-magnet attribute capable of captivating both men and women alike. His halo was ridiculously overpowered, yet his heart remained as unyielding as stone. He loved no one and possessed a spine of unyielding pride—driving various scum gong characters to exhaust every possible scheme just to conquer the beauty, locking him by their side solely for the privilege of watching the proud beauty shed all his dignity and pride, biting his lips while trembling and gasping beneath them.
The tags read:
Forced confinement!
Deep, agonizing love-hate entanglement!
In short, aside from the white moonlight beauty, not a single normal person existed in that entire book!
Not one!
Whether it was because the windows weren’t closed tightly enough or not, a series of chilly drafts swept across the room, causing Fu Juncheng to shudder and making his heart feel even colder.
Fortunately, there was one saving grace.
The fact that Wu Jin dared to openly bring him around proved that the plot had only progressed to the point right before the white moonlight, Xu Yaozhou, returned to the country.
At this stage, the scum gong Wu Jin hadn’t yet blackened into his later, completely twisted state. He had merely pulled out all the stops to capture Fu Juncheng—the person who resembled the white moonlight the most—keeping him by his side day in and day out to soothe the agonizing pains of lovesickness.
Furthermore, the original body had not yet had time to develop psychological distortion under the scum gong’s endless torment. Burdened by his family’s massive debts, he had naturally agreed to Wu Jin’s terms, remaining by his side while harboring genuine admiration and gratitude for Wu Jin deep down in his heart.
The dawn of righteousness still illuminated the earth; everything should still be salvageable!
As long as he managed to distance himself from this drama early on, he might actually be able to preserve his little life.
With this thought in mind, Fu Juncheng walked into the bathroom and splashed some water onto his face in an attempt to snap himself fully awake, then raised his head to gaze into the mirror.
The original body not only shared his name, but his facial features were also remarkably close to his own.
Fine.
He had already transmigrated, so what else could he do?
He couldn’t exactly go banging his head against the wall to try it again.