Xia Zeyu brushed the dust off his hands, then peeled the gauze off his fingers; the wounds had already healed completely.
Lifting his gaze, he saw Tang Tang cowering in the corner, trembling all over.
Almost forgot, there was still an accomplice.
Xia Zeyu walked over unhurriedly. The closer he got, the deeper the terror on Tang Tang’s face became.
Stopping right in front of Tang Tang, Xia Zeyu raised a hand and slammed it against the wall behind him, instantly frightening Tang Tang into tears.
“Zeyu! Zeyu, I’m sorry! Don’t hit me!”
“Sorry? Sorry for what? Make it clear.”
“I fell down by myself! You didn’t push me, and I didn’t want him to lock you up here either! I tried to talk him out of it!”
The faster Tang Tang spoke, the more agitated his tone became, terrified that if he failed to explain himself clearly, Xia Zeyu would kill him.
“You talked him out of it? Then why didn’t you call the police?”
“I-I…”
“Aiding and abetting, complicity three-year minimum sentence.”
“I didn’t do anything! You already beat him up, so please don’t hit me!”
“Considering this is your first offense, I can settle this privately,” Xia Zeyu patted Tang Tang’s face and provoked, “If there’s a next time, don’t blame me for being merciless.”
Xia Zeyu took two steps back, while Tang Tang collapsed onto the floor. Before long, a puddle of water began to pool beneath him, emanating a fishy, foul stench had he actually scared him shitless?
Xia Zeyu laughed mockingly. He didn’t bother doing anything else, simply turning around and heading up the stairs.
As a commander, he wasn’t petty enough to harbor grudges and bicker with a couple of small fries.
Besides, the current situation was abnormal, and he needed to go outside to check things out.
The moment he reached the ground floor and took in the interior decoration and layout of the house, he froze.
Because he had never seen anything like it before.
Compared to the base’s cold, rigid, reinforced-steel walls, this place felt… somewhat cozy?
He walked into the living room, grabbed the sofa, and stroked it. It felt like it was made from the hide of some kind of animal.
A basket sat on the coffee table containing several red, oval-shaped objects. Unsure of what they were, he picked one up, inspected it, sniffed it, and then crushed it in his bare hand, letting the juice stream down his palm.
He hesitated for a moment, then gave it a lick, it was sweet.
His eyes widened in sheer disbelief.
Could this….could this be the legendary, long-extinct fruit?
As early as over a thousand years ago, the soil on Earth had turned dead and barren, incapable of growing any plants whatsoever. How could fruit still exist? Could there be some undiscovered utopian paradise left?
Xia Zeyu swept his gaze around the room. A display screen mounted on the wall was playing a news broadcast, and the time in the top-right corner read the year 2024.
2024? Three thousand years ago?
He searched for an exit to the house, which proved unexpectedly easy to find compared to the base. Grabbing the doorknob, he swallowed hard and mustered his courage before pushing the door open.
If this truly was Earth from three thousand years ago, would the outside world be as prosperous as described in the historical records?
The moment the door pushed open, a dazzling yet warm ray of light struck him. Squinting slightly, he caught sight of the sun and a clear blue sky.
Stepping outside, his feet met soft, grassy turf. What greeted his eyes was a vibrant, lush flowerbed alongside a crystal-clear splashing fountain, while the air was filled with an undefinable, refreshing fragrance.
Could this be the legendary scent of grass and flowers?
The sun wasn’t scorching enough to roast a person alive, fluffy white clouds dotted the sky, greenery bloomed everywhere, and the air lacked any dizzying impurities. People could wander freely through the streets without needing to venture out in regulated batches.
Xia Zeyu closed his eyes and took a deep, lingering breath.
A peaceful world, how wonderful.
Though he hadn’t figured out the situation yet, at the very least, it wasn’t dangerous here.
However, he also knew that no matter what era it was, getting nowhere without money was a universal truth.
Thus, he headed back inside the house and returned to the basement.
Tang Tang was sitting beside the unconscious man, crying with swollen, pitiful little red eyes.
“Shen-ge, Shen-ge, wake up, Shen—”
Before Tang Tang could finish, Xia Zeyu grabbed him by the scruff of his collar and hoisted him up.
“Y-You!” Tang Tang looked at him as if seeing a ghost, his speech stuttering, “W-Why are you back?”
“Give me money.”
“Huh?”
Xia Zeyu extended his other hand and said coldly, “Didn’t we agree to settle this privately? Where is the financial compensation?”
“Oh, oh.”
Fumbling frantically, Tang Tang dug a small plastic card out of his pocket and handed it over to Xia Zeyu.
“This…” Xia Zeyu’s eyes widened. “Is this the legendary bank card? A debit card or a credit card?”
“Huh?”
“Tell me the PIN.”
“Three sixes, three nines. There’s three million inside. Is that enough?”
Xia Zeyu set Tang Tang down and tucked the card into his pocket with satisfied contentment.
Three million in his original world, that would barely last him half a year of food, and he had no idea what the cost of living was like in this era.
Following the historical records he had once reviewed, Xia Zeyu operated the bank card: first locating a bank, inserting the card, entering the PIN, and withdrawing the cash. When he laid eyes on that stack of red bills, his eyes flashed with brilliant greed.
So this was the Renminbi of three thousand years ago! Brand new! Not a replica!
He strolled along, observing everything as if touring ancient ruins. As he walked, he happened upon a fast-food restaurant.
One meat dish and one vegetable dish for fifteen yuan; two meat dishes and one vegetable dish for eighteen yuan.
He widened his eyes in astonishment once more, ordered two plates of the eighteen-yuan option, and inhaled them in one sitting.
It turned out that edible animals in that world were precious resources. Even as a supreme God of War, getting to eat chicken or pork twice a month was considered a luxury; normally, he had to make do with mutant monster meat that was tough to chew and devoid of flavor.
In a mere half-day, he decided he never wanted to go back. Why be a God of War when you couldn’t even eat a single bite of fresh meat after fighting half to death?
Just as the thought crossed his mind, a crackling electrical static echoed in his head, followed by the familiar electronic voice ringing out once more:
[I am terribly sorry, but because the author won five million in the lottery and abandoned the novel, then deleted the work out of anger after being cursed out by readers, your original world can no longer be restored. As compensation, the system will increase your mission rewards.]
Even though it was speaking entirely in Chinese, why did the combination of those words make so little sense?
“Who are you? Explain yourself clearly.”
[I am the system assigned to manage you. Your original world was a male-frequency, non-CP, progression-style web novel. Because your previous sword strike cleaved a spatial fissure, compounded by the author abandoning and deleting the work, the subsequent fate of the world dissolved into a complete void. I’m afraid you can’t go back; from now on, you can only survive under your current identity.]
Xia Zeyu pondered for a moment, glanced back at the massive trays of meat in the food-selection counter, and readily accepted the situation: “Staying here is fine, I suppose. What was that mission you mentioned earlier? What are the rewards?”
[You need to achieve four milestones: making the Gong regret it, chasing-the-wife crematorium, ICU admission, and finding true love. Upon completion, a reward of one hundred million yuan will be disbursed. Other individuals only get thirty million, you know.]
“One hundred million? Isn’t that a bit too little?”
[Two meat dishes and one vegetable dish cost only eighteen yuan here.]
“True, cost of living matters too. Then…” Xia Zeyu hesitated for a moment. “What happens if I don’t complete the mission?”
[One hundred million yuan will be deducted from your account as a penalty.]
“What?” Xia Zeyu froze. Two seconds later, reality set in, and he snapped to his feet. “What did you just say?!”
Everyone in the restaurant turned to stare at him, forcing him to sit back down, though the corners of his mouth couldn’t stop twitching.
“Is this mission mandatory?”
[Yes indeed. Character-transfer worlds require performance evaluations. Passing the evaluation proves you have adapted to this world and allows you to stay here for retirement. Our system is quite humane we don’t directly obliterate characters; we simply issue punishments through alternative means.]
“You can’t obliterate me directly, so the punishment is to deduct one hundred million from me, waiting until I crack under the pressure of debt-induced stress and die on my own?”
[Yes indeed. You are very clever.]
“…………”
Xia Zeyu fell into deep contemplation before resigning himself to fate. After all, how much worse could it be than fighting monsters?
More importantly, two meat dishes and one vegetable dish cost only eighteen yuan here.
“Spit it out. Exactly what do I need to do?”
[Hold on, transmitting the data of this world to you now.]
Static crackled in his brain once again, resembling a short-circuited communicator. This three-thousand-year-old system was truly subpar.
With a “beep” prompt, a massive influx of plot details flooded into his mind.
The world he now inhabited was a BL “broken mirrors reunited” romance novel.
The protagonist Gong, Shen Congjin none other than the man he had just knocked unconscious was the CEO of the Shen Group, an A-City crown prince born with a silver spoon in his mouth. During his college years, he became captivated by Tang Tang, a scholarship student in the same class.
Instead of pursuing him through normal courtship, he insisted on resorting to forced acquisition. On a dark and stormy night, he directly abducted Tang Tang back to his mansion, using Tang Tang’s terminally ill mother to coerce him into submission.
Thus, Tang Tang had to pour tea and wait on Shen Congjin by day, only to be subjected to forced affection by Shen Congjin at night. He went to sleep at two in the morning and woke up at six, standing by 24/7 on weekends, until he finally collapsed from exhaustion.
Shen Congjin carried him to the infirmary in a princess carry, wiping his sweat, serving water, and peeling fruit. Tang Tang, who had lacked love since childhood, felt a stirring in his heart at that exact moment, thinking that the person before him wasn’t actually all that bad? From that day onward, Shen Congjin grew much gentler toward Tang Tang, and their relationship heated up rapidly.
Just when the two of them were at their sweetest, the plot twist arrived.
Shen Congjin actually had a fiancé the original owner of the body Xia Zeyu currently occupied.
Returning from abroad and discovering that he had been fitted with a massive green hat, the furious original owner blew his top, marching right up and slapping Tang Tang hard enough to rupture his eardrum.
Only then did Tang Tang realize he had been made a third party and was merely a substitute for the original owner. He went to Shen Congjin to demand an explanation, but Shen Congjin told him not to stir up trouble.
Tang Tang’s heart died, yet he couldn’t bear to leave Shen Congjin’s side. In the original owner’s eyes, this was pure provocation, so the original owner frequently resorted to childish tactics to frame Tang Tang such as slipping luxury items into his bag to frame him for theft, or consuming poison himself just to frame Tang Tang for it. The crucial part was that every time he framed him, Shen Congjin acted completely brainless and believed it. The moment he believed it, he would lock Tang Tang in the basement as punishment.
On another dark and stormy night, Tang Tang escaped with the assistance of the second male lead. Shen Congjin went mad, dispatching people frantically to search for Tang Tang while redirecting all his rage onto the original owner, subjecting him to silent treatment and psychological abuse.
Two years later, Tang Tang returned triumphantly as a jewelry designer, determined to reclaim Shen Congjin and exact revenge on the original owner.
Meanwhile, the original owner had developed depression and anxiety under two years of Shen Congjin’s psychological pua, rendering him completely incapable of withstanding Tang Tang’s attacks. This time, the target framed and locked in the basement had become him.
Yet he still retained a shred of stubborn pride, refusing to submit to death. Therefore, in the middle of this very night, he starved to death in the basement.
The original owner’s story ended right there; the subsequent chapters followed Shen Congjin and Tang Tang reuniting to live happily ever after in an HE ending.
Before dying, the original owner was consumed by bitter resentment: clearly, he was the legal spouse, so why had he ended up this way? He wanted Shen Congjin to regret it and suffer immensely, while also yearning for a love that was wholehearted and exclusively his own, rather than fighting others for scraps of pitiful affection.
[Therefore, helping the original owner fulfill his wish completes the mission: make Shen Congjin regret it, put him through the chasing-the-wife crematorium, and as for the ICU that’s standard equipment for scum-and-cheap literature. Find a way to throw him in there. Furthermore, the original owner wished to find true love, which is not restricted to any specific partner.]
Xia Zeyu massaged his temples with both hands; this plot gave him a splitting headache.
In a place where two meat dishes and one vegetable dish cost only eighteen yuan, how could someone actually starve themselves to death?
He couldn’t comprehend it. Born in such an untroubled era free from war and monsters, why couldn’t they live life properly instead of entangling themselves in pathetic romance and throwing away their lives over it?
More importantly, whenever these people grew sad or angry, they stopped eating and smashed their dinnerware wasting food was entirely unforgivable!
They were simply eating too well. If you tossed those three people into Xia Zeyu’s original world to starve for a few days and eat some monster meat, they’d straighten right up.
[Host, are you listening?]
“I am,” Xia Zeyu pulled his thoughts back. “I roughly understand. It’s just that the logic of this book feels a bit strange.”
[What’s strange about it?]
“No matter how you look at it, Shen Congjin is the root cause of all these events, right? Yet neither Tang Tang nor the original owner blames him; instead, they tear each other apart. That doesn’t make sense. Shouldn’t we resolve the source of the problem to end all of this?”
[Everyone has different interpretations of events.]
“Lunatics, and ‘chasing-the-wife crematorium’ my foot,” Xia Zeyu sneered. “Wouldn’t it be much better to directly push them into a physical crematorium?”
[If you interpret the crematorium that way, that’s fine too.]
“Huh?” Xia Zeyu caught the hidden subtext in its words.
[My hints can only go this far.]
“Oh, understood.”
The rules weren’t all that rigid, which was rather nice.