chapter 3

The room finally fell silent, the absence of voices a balm to his frayed nerves.

Yīchéng tried to process what had just happened, but the sheer absurdity of it all pressed down on him like a boulder. He hated it.

All his life, he had been a kid from an ordinary family. Sure, he was lazy and practically useless, but no one ever controlled him. His parents were strict, but they never restricted his freedom, and he, in turn, never did anything reckless or absurd to hurt them—aside from stubbornly refusing to study.

But here? A broken system was now dictating his every move. Not just his actions but even his behavior and voice. He never asked for this.

No matter how uncertain the road ahead, he couldn't afford to let this go unchecked. He needed to finish what was required of him, survive, and get rid of this system. Consider it repayment for this second chance at life.

Finally, unable to stay still, Yīchéng rolled out of bed and tried to stand. His legs wobbled like jelly beneath him, and before he could stop himself, he collapsed onto the floor in an unceremonious heap.

He ended up kneeling on the cold, hard ground, his forehead pressed against the floor like a disgraced emperor begging for forgiveness. "Mom, Dad," he croaked, his voice trembling. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to check out this early, okay? It's not like I had a death wish! It was the puddle—blame the damn puddle!"

His voice cracked as tears streamed down his face. "Take care of my siblings, alright? Make sure they don't screw up like I did. And Mom, stop nagging about my grades. Guess what? None of that matters when you're dead."

He sniffled, wiping his nose on the absurdly long sleeve of his robe. The fabric, a deep shade of midnight blue, flared out around his wrist, almost as if it had a life of its own. "I've got a new life now, apparently. Don't worry about me... wherever I am."

For a moment, he stayed like that, the silence around him amplifying the rawness of his words.

Finally dragging himself upright, Yīchéng decided to test his legs again. They wobbled beneath him, but this time, he managed to stay upright. He shuffled toward the mirror on the other side of the room, catching his reflection for the first time.

What stared back at him was undeniably a masterpiece sculpted by the heavens.

He leaned closer, scrutinizing his reflection with a mix of awe and exasperation. Now, he probably understood what those novel descriptions meant when it said "Sword-like eyebrows, phoenix eyes, and a nose so straight it could cut steel." This face could win wars just by showing up, he thought with a dry chuckle.

Yīchéng groaned, running a hand through his absurdly silky hair. "So, this is what I'm working with? The heavens really went all out on this protagonist look. Too bad they stuck it on me."

He shook his head, chuckling bitterly. "But right now? It looks a little pale, sickly, and baby-faced. Give it a few years, though, and this kid could outshine the heavens. Figures—of course the protagonist has to look like this."

Straightening up, he brushed his hair back with an air of resignation. "Young gongzi of the Mèng family, huh?" He ran a hand down the side of his face, marveling at how absurdly smooth his skin was despite its pallor. "More like a fraud forced to babysit villains."

He chuckled, the sound laced with bitterness. "So much for being the protagonist. All those novels made it sound like a dream—power, adventure, endless adoration. But no one ever mentions the pressure to be a saint, to carry the weight of the world like some overworked donkey."

He had conveniently forgotten that he was the one who had argued protagonist got it all and that the author was biased in their favor.

Leaning against the gilded frame of the mirror, he sighed. "And here I am, stuck with a villain-biased system in a protagonist-biased story. If this isn't irony, I don't know what is."

He glanced around the room, its large space filled with beautiful, humble decor that mocked his plight. The intricate embroidery on the curtains, the delicate trinkets casually arranged on the shelves—it all whispered of tranquility and control. Yet none of it did anything to calm his frayed nerves. The serene atmosphere, so effortlessly crafted, only seemed to highlight how out of place he felt.

"Maybe I should've studied harder. Slept earlier. Avoided puddles like they were cursed traps. Damn it, this is what I get for being a lazy ass."

He let his forehead fall against the cool surface of the mirror. For a moment, he stared into his own mesmerizing reflection, feeling utterly out of place in such a perfect shell.

"New life, new me. Yeah, right." He snorted, his breath fogging up the mirror. "Someone just kill me again."

Eventually, Yīchéng returned to bed, but the nagging sense of weakness in this body lingered. It felt... off, as though the original owner had suffered some trauma. Yet no memories had come to him—not even a hint. Shoving the thought aside, he curled under the covers, shivering as the cold seeped into his bones.

Hours passed—or perhaps just minutes. Time blurred when your entire world had turned upside down. Suddenly, Angella's voice sliced through the haze, sweet and cloying like syrup.

"Host, wake up! You have to go to work now. What could possibly happen if you just lie there like that?"

Yīchéng groaned, still half-dazed. Resigned, he muttered, "Shoot."

Before Angella could start her tirade, he interrupted. "Wait. Why do I feel so cold right now?"

Angella responded with an unbearable cheeriness. "Why, you ask? Isn't it because you fell into the chilling Yīhuàn Pond?"

Yīchéng blinked, baffled. "And where might that be?"

Angella paused, likely recalling his sudden arrival in this world. "Oh, you don't know? Let me channel the memory of the original Mèng Yīchéng to you. Hold on."

"Right."

With a deep sigh, Angella delivered as promised. The memories crashed into him like a flood, and his head throbbed with the force of it. But then, like a dam breaking, the flood stopped—abruptly—and he was left with fragments, just enough to answer some questions but not nearly enough to make sense of everything.

Now, some things were clear—like why the family didn't find it strange when he ignored his mother or sister's questions. Apparently, the brooding, moody child was simply "being himself," and no one dared to disturb him.

Even at eleven years old, the original Mèng Yīchéng's words were treated like gold. Heaven forbid anyone bother the boy who walked around with an expression that screamed, You owe me 8,000 spirit stones.

And, of course, the cold made sense. The original Mèng Yīchéng had taken an unfortunate dip in the Yīhuàn Pond.

From what Yīchéng could piece together, the original owner had been practicing his cultivation and horse stance near the Yīhuàn Pond, a small, serene lake infused with spiritual energy, located on the Mèng Family Estate's Rear Mountain. Sounds peaceful, right? Not quite.

Enter the half-brothers and some paternal cousins—just your average gang of little troublemakers. They had dragged a eight-year-old kid (Mèng Xīngyào, of course) over with smiles so sweet you'd think they were offering him a gift. But no. It was all a farce. They claimed they brought Xīngyào there to give him some "pointers" on cultivation. it was just straight-up bullying, and even a blind man could see it coming.

As the little Xīngyào got pushed around, Yīchéng's original self did nothing. Neither he encouraged nor intervened to stop them, just a passive stare while he focused on his own practice. Now that was a classic example of "not my problem." Yīchéng couldn't help but scoff at the sheer audacity. A bit of brotherly compassion wouldn't have hurt, right?

Anyway, Xīngyào—clearly pushed beyond his limits—shoved his tormentors. In the ensuing chaos, the bullies lost their balance, tumbled, and guess who they landed on? Yep, the protagonist himself, who was unfortunately knocked into the Yīhuàn Pond. And just like that, unconscious and cold as hell, he stayed there, completely unaware of the absolute circus that had just gone down.

So, there he was, rendered helpless by his family, thrown into the water with zero backup, and now Liú Zhēn was stuck with the aftermath of this mess.

***Download NovelToon to enjoy a better reading experience!***