As night fell, Zhou Mushen stood in the dark corridor and looked around quietly.
"Excuse ." He said calmly, "Where do I sleep?"
Jiang Jiamian erged from the bedroom, one hand in his pocket, leaning unsteadily against the doorfra. "Huh? You’re staying here?"
Zhou Mushen: "..."
Had he ignored everything about ’we’ll eat and live together’ that he’d said earlier?
Jiang Jiamian suddenly slapped his forehead exaggeratedly. "Oh! Right, right. You’re supposed to eat and live here. My bad."
He waved a hand generously and pointed toward several rooms next to his own. "Pick whichever you like. Don’t be shy! They’re all huge. This is a villa, after all."
Zhou Mushen forced a polite smile, his expression unreadable. "They are very big and spacious... but..."
He had already cleaned the entire villa and found this man truly incomprehensible.
Because aside from Jiang Jiamian’s own bedroom, which had a bed, bedside table, wardrobe, computer desk, and everything else, the other rooms were completely empty.
Four walls.
Nothing else.
Not even a bed fra.
Jiang Jiamian blinked, as if suddenly realizing the issue. "Oh! Right. Look at my mory."
He scratched his head casually. "After buying the villa, I realized I couldn’t possibly live in so many rooms. Buying furniture for all of them would’ve been a waste of money. Since it’s just , I only furnished one bedroom."
Zhou Mushen: "..."
Jiang Jiamian pointed toward the door. "How about you go ho? Just co by every morning on ti. I’ll cover your transportation costs."
Zhou Mushen’s gaze darkened slightly as he glanced at the bedroom behind Jiang Jiamian.
"I see your bed is quite wide." He said calmly. "We could squeeze in."
Jiang Jiamian: "..."
You really don’t know how to read the room.
Bang!
The bedroom door slamd shut, the sound echoing clearly through the corridor.
"Either sleep on the sofa or sleep on the floor!" Jiang Jiamian shouted through the door. "Your choice!"
Zhou Mushen, who nearly got hit on the nose, stood silently in the corridor.
Looks like he’ll have to spend money again tomorrow.
After donating thirty thousand, he didn’t even get half a bed.
What kind of grudge was this?
He had truly suffered.
But... that Rebirth from the Ashes...
In the dark corridor, the man’s earlier embarrassnt and submissiveness vanished completely. His expression turned icy, his figure lting into the shadows, almost becoming part of the night itself.
He took out his phone and operated it briefly.
Soon after, he turned on the flashlight, went downstairs, and lay down on the sofa in the living room on the first floor.
Almost at the sa ti Zhou Mushen took action, soone knocked on the door of the reborn protagonist, who was still living in a rented apartnt.
Li Zhe had been on edge all day. There was no way he could sleep peacefully.
The sudden knock made him jolt upright.
He steadied himself, tiptoed to the door, and peered through the peephole.
A thin man stood outside. He didn’t recognize him.
"Who is it?" Li Zhe asked hoarsely.
The unease from the day’s events hadn’t faded. Sothing felt wrong, though he couldn’t pinpoint what.
"I live downstairs." The man said politely. "The drainpipe is clogged. I called property managent, and they said I need to speak with the upstairs residents to split the cost. Could you co out for a mont?"
Li Zhe let out a small breath of relief and unlocked the door. "How much do I need to..."
His words stopped abruptly.
The mont the door opened, the thin man stepped back. From behind the wall, three or four n rushed out, pinned Li Zhe down, and shoved him violently back into the room.
Bang!
The door slamd shut.
A large hand clamped over Li Zhe’s mouth from behind. Before he could struggle, soone kicked him hard in the lower back.
Agonizing pain exploded through his body.
When Jiang Jiamian woke up the next morning, he stared at the ceiling for a long while before rolling out of bed.
That idiot... He didn’t really sleep on the sofa all night, did he?
The sofa wasn’t uncomfortable, it was expensive, after all, but it was late autumn. Nights were cold. Without a blanket, he’d definitely freeze.
The system watched Jiang Jiamian hurriedly wrap himself in his pajamas and rush out. It wanted to say sothing, but after a mont’s thought, wisely remained silent.
If it teased him about feeling sorry for Zhou Mushen, the host would definitely deny it and say, as always, "What a joke. I’m a transmigrator without feelings."
The system felt it could already hear the echo.
Jiang Jiamian went downstairs and stopped short.
The sofa was empty, the man had vanished.
Instead, the sll of food drifted from the kitchen.
He froze, then silently rubbed his face.
After taking several deep breaths, he continued toward the living room.
Hearing footsteps, Zhou Mushen, busy in the kitchen, turned around and opened the door.
"You’re awake? Breakfast will be ready soon. You can wash up first... cough, cough, cough."
Jiang Jiamian frowned. "Didn’t you turn on the range hood?"
"I did." Zhou Mushen replied with a pale smile. "It’s probably not the fus. I might’ve caught a chill last night."
Jiang Jiamian pressed his fingers to his forehead.
Was he imagining things?
Why did it feel like this jerk was deliberately playing the victim?
But... what if he wasn’t?
After a mont’s hesitation, Jiang Jiamian said the universal line of comfort, "Drink more hot water."
Zhou Mushen: "..."
His grip on the spatula tightened slightly. He turned back with a professional smile, no, a professional fake smile.
"Thank you for your concern."
It seems he’ll have to get a fever tonight if he wants any chance of sleeping in Jiang Jiamian’s bedroom.
While Jiang Jiamian and Zhou Mushen were enjoying breakfast, in an apartnt hundreds of miles away, Li Zhe slowly opened his swollen eyelids.
The room was already empty.
The mont he regained consciousness, intense pain surged through his entire body, wave after wave, so severe that he almost wished he would faint again.
Not only did his body ache unbearably, even his face throbbed, swollen and sore.
Who were those people?!
Why did they barge into his house for no reason and beat him up?!
Why hadn’t this happened in his previous life?!
Could it be that his rebirth hadn’t brought him glory at all, but instead altered his destiny, making this life even more miserable than the last?
Then what was the point of being reborn?!
Was it simply that fate thought his previous life wasn’t miserable enough, and decided to tornt him even more this ti?!
No, impossible!
He was the protagonist!
He had to be the protagonist of this world!
Everything happening now must be part of the protagonist’s trial, just like in other novels. First suppression, then rise. This was the plot testing him.
That must be why he chose the wrong target with his first book, accidentally selecting a story whose outline had already been conceived by soone else. This was a lesson. A warning, so he wouldn’t repeat the sa mistake again.
Yes. This was experience. Growth.
But then... what about those people who beat him?
That hadn’t happened in his previous life.
Li Zhe wracked his brain but couldn’t figure it out.
The only thing that surfaced was... Plagiarism.
Could it be... Lone Sword at the World’s Edge?!
Or perhaps soone hated him because of that incident, tracked down his real identity and address, and ca to retaliate?
In the end, everything still traced back to the plagiarism of Lone Sword at the World’s Edge.
Only this could have led to such consequences.
Thinking about it, Li Zhe felt even more indignant.
He had only used a plot that hadn’t even been published yet!
Was it really necessary to harass him online and offline?
Online pressure was one thing. Suing him was another. But sending people to his house to beat him half to death?!
That was illegal!
Li Zhe desperately tried to reach for his phone to call the police, but no matter how he searched, he couldn’t find it.
His arm grew heavier and heavier from the effort, the pain intensifying until he couldn’t lift it at all.
He lay helplessly on the cold, hard floor for a long ti.
The pain was so intense it felt as if his entire body had been run over. For a few terrifying monts, he even thought he was going to die.
Help... help ...
His consciousness blurred. Calling the police no longer mattered.
He just wanted to find his phone and dial 120.
He didn’t want to die!
He had only been reborn for two months!
He wasn’t reborn to suffer even more!
User Comments
0 comments from readers