Shi Zhou deleted Qin Yancheng’s WeChat contact the moment he hit the streets.

His plan was simple: To avoid his cannon-fodder fate, he needed to steer clear of the novel’s scum male lead, Zheng Qi, and especially the psychotic white moonlight, Qin Yancheng.

—Though, based on last night’s encounter, Qin Yancheng seemed surprisingly normal. Not at all like a deranged lunatic.

You c an fi nd t he la te st cha pte rs at ( th e bl mu se . c o m )

Shi Zhou’s only possession was the phone he’d instinctively grabbed while fleeing.

Hotel Lobby

“A single room, please. Alipay.”

“ID card, sir.”

Shi Zhou and the receptionist stared at each other. After a beat, he patted his high ponytail.

“Actually… never mind.”

No ID, no room.

He settled for a café, scrolling rental listings between bites of cake, hoping to find a move-in-ready apartment.

“Shi Zhou! Where the hell have you been?!” A voice sounded overhead and a hand suddenly yanked him up by the collar.

A tall, broad-shouldered man loomed over him, face twisted in rage.

Shi Zhou smacked the hand away. “Who the fuck—? Get lost!”

Zheng Qi froze. The usually meek Shi Zhou had never dared talk back.

Seeing the guy’s reaction, Shi Zhou’s stomach dropped. This guy knows me. Given the original host’s pitifully small social circle, there was only one possibility—

Zheng Qi sneered. “Shi Zhou, you’ve got nerve, daring to talk back to me? Who’d you whore yourself to last night!”

Fuck my luck. Shi Zhou cursed in his heart and tested out his guess, “Zheng Qi?”

“Since when did I allow you to call me by name?”

Just my fucking day.

First the white moonlight, now the scum male lead. As the novel’s unluckiest cannon fodder, Shi Zhou might as well have “cursed” stamped on his forehead.

Zheng Qi was handsome in a rugged way—fitting for a male lead. But his current expression resembled a fishwife mid-tirade in the morning market. After Qin Yancheng’s otherworldly beauty, Zheng Qi looked like leftover takeout.

What made him truly vile? He hit his partners. The original Shi Zhou had endured plenty.

But that was because the original host’s character was too mild and cowardly. If Zheng Qi dared to try to hit him, Shi Zhou would definitely fight back. It was impossible for him to be like the protagonist and the original host, who indulged his disgusting habits and thought that the matter could be turned around after a slap in the face and then a sweet date?

“You shameless slut, whose clothes are you wearing!” Zheng Qi grabbed his collar again—only to get his hand swatted away a second time.

Their argument drew stares. The cafe was relatively quiet so their argument even rose above the relaxing music. Some of the other patrons had their phones lifted, snapping photos.

Zheng Qi was the handsome CEO of Qiming Entertainment. Shi Zhou, a C-list celebrity. Their “arrangement” was an open secret.

Zheng Qi grabbed Shi Zhou’s wrist, forcefully pulling him out of the cafe and pushing him into his car.

Shi Zhou gave up struggling after realizing Zheng Qi’s grip was too strong.

Instead, he asked politely, “Mr. Zheng, does your mother know you manhandle people? Or did she skip the ‘basic decency’ chapter in parenting?”

Zheng Qi didn’t understand why he had a personality change. The only reason he could think of was that he had found a new backer. “What the fuck’s wrong with you? Don’t make me hit you. You better behave.”

Zheng Qi fastened his seat belt and started the car. Although Shi Zhou felt unlucky and pissed off, he still had to continue looking for a house to rent. So it was not completely without benefits to go back with Zheng Qi. At least he could get his ID card and pack his luggage.

Zheng Qi’s phone rang at this time.

“Song Duannian” flashed on the car display—the protagonist shou.

Zheng Qi hissed, “Not a sound,” before answering on speaker.

“Duan Nian? What’s wrong?” His voice instantly became gentle.

“Why did you spread those photos at the university? And those rumors—” Song Duannian’s voice trembled with fury.

Zheng Qi continued in the same gentle tone. “Darling, I don’t know what you mean.”

“Zheng Qi, you are too much, when you—you’re the one who forced me! How could you!”

“Did the school fire you for such a little thing? Don’t worry. I’ll take care of you.” Zheng Qi said without hesitation.

Shi Zhou gagged silently. This was classic scumbag gong move: leaking explicit photos to ruin Song Duannian’s reputation, stripping him of his career as a university professor and his only means of livelihood.

An associate professor at a university with a good family background and extensive knowledge had extremely erotic photos spread all over the school, and eventually lost his job due to such embarrassing circumstances.

Even so, in the final ending, he was still able to have a happy reunion with the instigator. It was really…a broad-minded heart that was awe-inspiring.

“How about you be my secretary,” Zheng Qi smiled. “We can see each other every day this way.”

The greasiness of that smile could fry an egg.

Shi Zhou gagged soundlessly. Thank you for disgusting him again. Just as he wanted to gag some more, his nose suddenly itched and before he could stop it he let out a sneeze.

Zheng Qi turned to Shi Zhou, and his expression immediately turned ferocious. Song Duannian asked vigilantly, “Who’s next to you? Didn’t you promise me—”

“What’s wrong, darling? Are you jealous?”

Song Duannian was silent, so Zheng Qi hung up the phone with a big laugh.

The moment the call ended, he snarled at Shi Zhou, “Don’t play games with me. You disgust me.”

Shi Zhou: ???

Can’t I even sneeze? What are you, a control freak?

As if he actually wanted to compete with Song Duannian. Someone like Zheng Qi, even if he was free Shi Zhou wouldn’t even spare him a look. There are always these “greasy guys” who think they are great.

“Who were you with last night?”

“Passed out on the street.”

“Why do you think I found you in the cafe? I have your location. You were in Four Seasons Spring City last night. You ran so far just to sleep in the streets of a high-end villa area?”

Shi Zhou’s mind raced. Zheng Qi could never know he had been at Qin Yancheng’s house last night.

Qin Yancheng was Zheng Qi’s unattainable white moonlight, his lifelong obsession.

Even after Qin Yancheng’s death, Zheng Qi brought Song Duannian to visit his grave in the finale—so nauseatingly “sweet” it was.

When Qin Yancheng was alive, Zheng Qi had the intention to do something but not the courage to actually do it. After all, with Qin Yancheng’s status and position, if he were to be discovered, the mere thought of it would be chilling.

The tomb-sweeping gesture was truly a stroke of genius, burying both Song Duannian and Qin Yancheng at the same time, and also disgusting the readers by the way.

There was no need to explain why one felt sorry for Song Duannian. Qin Yancheng had no idea that Zheng Qi had such dirty thoughts about him during his lifetime, otherwise he would have destroyed him in a second. Zheng Qi should be thankful that this wasn’t a novel with supernatural or fantasy elements, otherwise Qin Yancheng would have sat up from his grave and thrashed him.

“Believe what you want,” Shi Zhou shrugged.

Zheng Qi parked the car and dragged him upstairs, grip on his wrist practically bone-crushing.

Shi Zhou, pissed off at the painful treatment, yelled, “Let go! I can walk!”

“Did you enjoy your night? Shi Zhou, I’ll make sure you can’t even—”

The threat died mid-sentence.

A slender man in a brown sweater stood frozen in the hallway, gold-rimmed glasses on his nose.

Zheng Qi instantly threw away Shi Zhou’s wrist and even pushed him hard. Shi Zhou staggered and almost fell.

——What a fucking clown.

It had not been easy for Shi Zhou, the young master, to hold back his temper until now, and finally he exploded completely.

He already knew who this young gentleman was, so he rushed forward, grabbed the corner of Zheng Qi’s sleeve, and said in front of Song Duannian:

“Baby, forgive me! Punish me like you promised~ Make it so I can’t get out of bed~”

Zheng Qi was stunned for a moment, then his face suddenly turned as purple as pig liver, and he quickly turned to look at Song Duannian.

Song Duannian stood there in a daze, and then suddenly became extremely sad and angry. “Zheng Qi, didn’t you say you were single? You two… you two are shameless…”

You c an fi nd t he la te st cha pte rs at ( th e bl mu se . c o m )

Shi Zhou almost pitied him, educated people were really quite different. They couldn’t even curse at others. But if it were him, he would definitely use “fuck” as the center of the circle and his eighteen generations of ancestors as the radius, and curse the man to death.

He immediately used his talented acting skills to replicate the same surprised, aggrieved and sad expression, “Ah Qi, we have been together for so many years, tell me, who is he!”

AN: Shi Zhou: “You started it. Let’s fucking GO.”

If you would like to show some ♡  then please consider supporting this translator! ლ(⌒εー)ლ

Qin Yancheng dreamed all night.

Knives slicing into flesh, blood gushing from torn skin, the searing pain of each cut.

Needles plunging in, his heart convulsing, his body writhing uncontrollably.

Hands yanking his hair, forcing bitter liquids down his throat.

You c an fi nd t he la te st cha pte rs at ( th e bl mu se . c o m )

He hated long hair. Loathed the feeling of being dragged to his knees by it, head forced back. The moment power fell into his hands, the first thing he did was shear it all off.

Qin Yancheng sat up abruptly. Though awake, his body was drenched in cold sweat, the residual fury of the dream surging through him like a tide. He clenched his fists, forcing steady breaths through gritted teeth.

Suddenly—

“Surnamed Qin! Are you a damn kidnapper?!”

Shi Zhou’s voice shattered the suffocating silence.

Qin Yancheng came back to himself with a start. Last night, that brat had unwittingly dredged up memories QinYancheng had buried deep. Now they’d resurfaced in his dreams.

Objectively, Shi Zhou’s features weren’t a perfect match—but someone had clearly styled him to mimic a certain likeness. At a glance, the resemblance was uncanny.

A rustling sound drew his attention. On the sofa, Shi Zhou was still cocooned in his blanket, wriggling like an indignant silkworm.

The moment Qin Yancheng stepped into the room, Shi Zhou straightened as much as he could and declared with gravitas, “Mr. Qin. While I am indeed devastatingly attractive—slender waist, long legs, a natural beauty—your actions last night were unconscionable. You must take responsibility.”

Qin Yancheng glanced down at him. Wordlessly, he picked up a fruit knife from the table, strode over, and yanked the rope binding Shi Zhou’s blanket!

Shi Zhou yelped as he was hoisted into mid-air. “Mercy, hero! I was wrong! We live in a civilized, harmonious society now!”

With a flick of the blade, Qin Yancheng severed the ropes. “Get up. Get dressed.”

What the hell happened last night?

Shi Zhou only remembered sneaking into the bathroom to check if his “manual transmission” still worked—then everything went black.

Pre-transmigration, the original host had clearly drunk heavily. But who knew the hangover would hit after body-swapping?

Shi Zhou knew he had terrible drunk manners. The thought of what he might’ve done made his soul shrivel. And why had the “beauty” taken him home? Why the full-body restraint?

He couldn’t bear to imagine.

Aunt Zhang’s voice floated upstairs: “Sir, breakfast is ready.”

Shi Zhou cleared his throat, attempting diplomacy. “I’m… also a bit hungry.”

Qin Yancheng tossed him a set of clothes and left without a word.

Shi Zhou went to clean up and change into the clothes provided only to discover that the clothes were all too long. What did surnamed Qin even eat to grow so tall?

Post-transmigration, Shi Zhou felt shorter. His original 185 cm frame seemed to have shrunk to a barely-there 180cm.

Back in his world, Shi Zhou’s reputation as a flirt was legendary. Now, freed from his “Young Master Shi” obligations and familial discipline, his bad habits were flourishing unchecked.

Qin Yancheng’s hands rested on the table—elegant, long-fingered, perfectly manicured.

Shi Zhou naturally adored such pretty hands. His fingers itched to touch them so he couldn’t help stealing glances between bites, though years of etiquette training kept his table manners impeccable.

Thus Qin Yancheng’s tone thawed slightly. “Leave after eating.”

Shi Zhou sipped his soup, studying Qin Yancheng’s face. “WeChat? I’m Shi Zhou. What’s your full name?”

Qin Yancheng ignored him.

Shi Zhou’s decorum lasted three seconds before crumbling. “Ah, it must be Qin Luofu, right? After all, both are peerless beauties—’The Qin family has a fair maiden, her name is Luo Fu—'”

He’d completely forgotten singing this exact line while drunk.

“Qin Yancheng.”

“Oh! Qin Yancheng! A name as splendid as Qin Luofu,” Shi Zhou praised mechanically, already pulling out his phone. “Let me scan your QR code—”

To his surprise, Qin Yancheng furrowed his brow slightly as if something had changed his mind and then he actually added him.

Wait.

Yan Cheng?

QIN YANCHENG?!

“Uh… is that ‘feast’ Yan, ‘city’ Cheng?” Shi Zhou asked timidly.

Qin Yancheng’s indifferent stare confirmed it.

Shi Zhou inhaled sharply, then transformed into a model of obedience, “I’m full. Thank you, Mr. Qin. I’ll be going now.”

“Mr. Qin, I’ll wash your clothes and mail them back. Goodbye!”

After shoveling his last bite, Shi Zhou fled like the hounds of hell were at his heels.

Who was Qin Yancheng?

The goddamn White Moonlight of this novel! (TN: in Chinese culture “white moonlight” refers to a person who is cherished in memory, often someone who was loved but is no longer present or attainable.)

No wonder his looks were this illegally perfect. The author had dumped every superlative onto him to cement his unattainable status.

And why unattainable? From the beginning to the end with Qin Yancheng’s death, the scumbag gong never managed to get his grubby hands on him even once. There were several reasons.

But the most important was the fact that Qin Yancheng was the richest, most powerful man in the story.

Moreover, he was also a vindictive, ruthless madman. Had he not died early, the scumbag male lead would’ve never gotten his happy ending.

You c an fi nd t he la te st cha pte rs at ( th e bl mu se . c o m )

And Shi Zhou?

He was Qin Yancheng’s stand-in!

He was a substitute for Qin Yancheng in his youth which was why Shi Zhou didn’t recognize any resemblance earlier. But Qin Yancheng, however, would’ve remembered what he looked like younger, right?

So… did he know?

If you would like to show some ♡  then please consider supporting this translator! ლ(⌒εー)ლ

Qin Yancheng swallowed another pill with water. Before he could even set the glass down—

“BANG!”

The private room’s door was kicked open, slamming against the wall before rebounding with a deafening crash.

Apparently, some people believed foot-operated doors maximized intimidation. The leader, wielding a steel pipe, strode in with seven or eight thugs behind him—each radiating “I’m a bad guy” energy.

You c an fi nd t he la te st cha pte rs at ( th e bl mu se . c o m )

They flooded inside without hesitation.

Before the bald leader could even scan the room for his target—

“WHAM!”

A heavy glass cup smashed into his shiny scalp, followed by a splash of water trickling down his face.

The impact was brutal. Blood quickly mixed with the water.

“What the fuck?!” The bald man roared, rolling up his sleeves—until his eyes landed on the figure lounging on the sofa.

Instantly, his expression morphed into obsequious delight:

“Mr. Qin! It’s you! My deepest apologies! This lowly one got carried away—please don’t take offense!”

Qin Yancheng nodded mildly. “Mm.”

A lackey whispered, “Boss, shouldn’t we still search—”

The bald man, face half-covered in blood, met Qin Yancheng’s frosty, sardonic half-smile and immediately smacked the lackey. “Search your mother! Get out!”

Qin Yancheng heard the running water in the bathroom stop during the confrontation, but the “pink bunny” hadn’t emerged.

Not that it mattered. No one would dare snatch someone from his private room.

“Come out. They’re gone,” Qin Yancheng called.

Silence.

Where was the boldness from earlier? The audacity to lift his skirt in public? Was he actually scared of those nobodies?

After a few minutes, Qin Yancheng stood and knocked sharply on the door. “Out.”

A faint rustling sound—then the door flew open and a body suddenly crashed into him.

Shi Zhou’s face was flushed, eyes glazed. He clung to Qin Yancheng’s neck, stroking his cheek before shamelessly trying to slide a hand under his shirt.

“Oho~ A beauty!”

Qin Yancheng peeled him off and demanded coldly, “What’s wrong with you?”

He’d only asked him to wash his face but now he reeked of alcohol despite it having only been ten minutes at most.

But faced with this oddity, Qin Yancheng had no desire to ponder it because at this moment Shi Zhou was plastered against him, arms locked around his waist like a koala bear.

The lace skirt rubbed against Qin Yancheng’s slacks, and he could feel a certain unnerving sensation. Instantly, he stiffened.

Shi Zhou tilted his head up, lips parted, eyes dewey, his soft skin flushed red. Then—he rose on tiptoe and kissed Qin Yamcheng’s jaw.

His lips were soft and his hot breath brushed against Qin Yancheng’s chin and neck. Shi Zhou smiled brightly, “Mwah! Your turn now~ No take-backs!”

Qin Yancheng’s frown deepened. This wasn’t just drunkenness. The overheated clinginess, the reckless grinding—someone had drugged him.

“Come on, gorgeous~ They call you… Mr. Qin? Qin what? Oh! Qin Luofu, right? All Qins are beauties!” (TN: a classical love song “Mulberry Lane” that tells of a beautiful young woman named Qin Luofu proudly rejecting the advances of a local official, at the same time boasting of the virtues of her own husband.)

He then belted out, “The Qin family has a fair maiden, her name is Luo Fu—”

Qin Yancheng ignored him with an expressionless face. He wiped his jaw with a tissue, grabbed his coat, and turned to leave.

Shi Zhou immediately lunged, wrapping around him like ivy. “No escaping! Beauty, I’m rich—I’ll buy you bags and jewelry…”

Qin Yancheng studied Shi Zhou’s freshly washed face. The resemblance was stronger now—60-70%.

A wave of revulsion surged through him. Had there been witnesses, they’d have fled from Qin Yancheng’s expression alone:

The eternally impassive man looked like a caged beast, fingers twitching toward Shi Zhou’s throat!

Shi Zhou, drunk and oblivious, nuzzled Qin Yancheng’s shirt, completely unaware of any danger.

Qin Yancheng shut his eyes tight and exhaled sharply. When his eyes reopened, the storm had passed.

He scooped Shi Zhou up, draping his coat over the bunny skirt.

Fine. For the sake of that face, he won’t leave him to those vultures.

Shi Zhou immediately locked his arms around Qin Yancheng’s neck, attempting another kiss.

Qin Yancheng’s voice dropped to a warning growl, “Move again, and I drop you.”

Shi Zhou heard this and clung tighter, afraid he really would loosen his hold and let him drop.

Ain Yancheng threw him into the backseat of his car. The moment the engine started, Shi Zhou popped upwards and cranes his neck over the seat, “Your car’s so spacious~ Perfect for car sex—”

Qin Yancheng: “……”

HeI should’ve left him on the curb.

Luckily, the drug’s effects were fading. After wriggling out of his dress, Shi Zhou collapsed naked across the seats, asleep.

Qin Residence.

Aunt Zhang saw the garden lights flicker on and knew Mr. Qin had come back. She was just about to go to the kitchen to cook a bowl of noodles when she was shocked in place.

Qin Yancheng was carrying a naked, long-haired “girl”, only his suit jacket preserving modesty. But the exposed collarbones and slender legs only sparked imagination.

Had he… drugged, stripped and abducted someone?!

Aunt Zhang nearly wept. After decades of celibacy, Mr. Qin’s first romance is non-consensual?!

“Aunt Zhang, prepare a guest room,” Qin Yancheng ordered.

Huh? Not sharing a bed?

Aunt Zheng could only suppress her gossiping urge and clear her throat, “All other rooms are under renovation”.

“Then the sofa. Fetch him some of my clothes and a blanket.”

Post-shower, Qin Yancheng opened his bedroom door while drying his hair to find a starfish-shaped intruder sprawled across his bed.

“Aunt Zhang. Who said he could sleep here?”

“Ah? But I didn’t…”

Shi Zhou blinked awake, indignant: “How dare you treat me like this! You—you’re heartless! Cruel! Unreasonable! I’ve never slept on a sofa!”

“Get out.” Naturally, Qin Yancheng ordered heartlessly, cruelly, and unreasonably. “Aunt Zhang, change the sheets.”

Shi Zhou shot up, his eyes widening in shock. “I’m not even treating you with distaste, yet you’re treating me with distaste?!”

No matter what, Shi Zhou refused to leave. Raised in luxury, his sleep standards were pea princess-tier: king-sized bed, memory foam mattress, latex pillow.

Though Shi Zhou was usually adaptable and knew when to compromise when sober, his drunken state had fully unleashed his pampered young master temper. The sofa was too narrow, too uncomfortable—what if he rolled off? No, only Qin Yancheng’s spacious bed and premium mattress would do, and he stubbornly refused to budge.

Even when forcibly relocated to the sofa, he’d just wriggled his way back on his own.

After several rounds of this drunken wrestling match, Qin Yancheng’s stomach pain flared up from the exertion. Finally, he resorted to swaddling Shi Zhou in a blanket, wrapping him up like a zongzi with a length of rope, and unceremoniously dumping the human dumpling onto the sofa.

You c an fi nd t he la te st cha pte rs at ( th e bl mu se . c o m )

Shi Zhou’s cheeks stayed flushed as he let out a drowsy, disgruntled “Hmph!” before settling in like a giant caterpillar loaf, finally subdued.

Qin Yancheng stared down at Shi Zhou’s face again, his fingers clenching unconsciously, jaw tensed—his expression unreadable.

AN: Shi Zhou: “Who hasn’t made a drunken fool of themselves before? (:з)∠)_

If you would like to show some ♡  then please consider supporting this translator! ლ(⌒εー)ლ

The man narrowed his eyes slightly. Even though he was looking up at Shi Zhou from his current position, his gaze carried a scrutinizing, almost imperious weight—though it vanished in an instant, leaving Shi Zhou wondering if he’d imagined it.

“V01. Left after exiting.” The man closed his eyes.

Shi Zhou’s heart pounded like a war drum. He quickly hauled the man up just as the chaotic footsteps grew louder.

You c an fi nd t he la te st cha pte rs at ( th e bl mu se . c o m )

This body was noticeably smaller and weaker than his original one. Thankfully, the man wasn’t completely dead weight and could still manage a few steps on his own.

The moment Shi Zhou dragged him inside, a loud “BANG!” echoed from the restroom—they’d started kicking stall doors open.

The private room they were now in was massive, easily twice the size of the one Shi Zhou had been in earlier, and far more luxurious. Even the décor screamed money.

When they entered, six to seven pairs of eyes snapped toward them.

Perhaps it was the eye-searing combination of Shi Zhou’s neon-pink bunny dress, heavy makeup, and exaggerated contouring, but the room fell into stunned silence.

One man finally snapped out of it and hurried over, respectfully handing a medicine box to the man. “Mr. Qin, the server will bring warm water shortly.”

The “Mr. Qin” had already shaken off Shi Zhou’s grip the moment they entered. Now, he took the medicine and leaned back on the sofa, eyes shut, saying nothing.

Shi Zhou met the room’s collective bewildered stares. Thankfully, his skin was thick enough to handle it. With a blink, he adjusted his expression into something resembling dignified composure—or at least, the cold CEO facade he’d spent years perfecting.

But internally, Shi Zhou was frantically reassessing.

Had the transmigration glitched? Did I swap genders?

From what he remembered of the novel (skimmed at best), the original cannon fodder did not have a cross-dressing hobby.

This “Mr. Qin” clearly held significant status. Despite the room’s frozen expressions, no one dared question Shi Zhou’s presence. The moment he sat down, the previously slouching guests straightened up like soldiers at inspection.

Shi Zhou’s sharp eyes caught a bowl of fruit candies on the table. Remembering the man’s low blood sugar, he grabbed one, peeled it, and fed it to him like a doting lover.

Old habits died hard. Now that the immediate danger had passed, Shi Zhou’s inner lecher resurfaced. His fingertips “accidentally” brushed this Mr. Qin’s lips as he withdrew.

Qin Yancheng was too dizzy—and in too much stomach pain—to care whether this gender-ambiguous brat was doing it on purpose.

He ate the candy, chewing it dry before repeating the process with two stomach pills from the medicine box.

After a moment, the world stopped spinning. Qin Yancheng turned his head and studied Shi Zhou in silence.

The room’s lights were now fully on, the music dead. Every gaze was locked onto Shi Zhou.

The silence was so thick you could hear a pin drop.

Shi Zhou met their stares head-on and decided: If I don’t feel awkward, they will.

So he smiled politely, as if this were perfectly normal, and even adjusted his fluffy pink bunny skirt with grace.

Qin Yancheng watched him for a long moment before frowning slightly—as if visually offended.

Shi Zhou internally grumbled. What? Am I that ugly?

He touched his face. Thick layers of makeup. Higher up—long, silky hair. He tugged a strand. Ouch. Not a wig.

Fuck. The transmigration really did glitch. They assigned the wrong gender.

Qin Yancheng finally looked away, sweeping a glance at the others. They immediately took the hint.

“Mr. Qin, take care of your health. We’ll leave first.”

As they filed out, their thoughts were practically audible: So Mr. Qin like this type, eh?

The man famously avoided women—but wasn’t into men either. And this… person? After staring for so long, they still couldn’t decide if they were a trap or a ladyboy.

Once alone, Shi Zhou finally got a proper look at this Qin Yancheng under the light.

His beauty was undeniable, but what struck people first was his aura—cold, domineering, and clearly not someone to provoke.

Yet Shi Zhou couldn’t stop staring.

He’d always been gayer than a rainbow, with a well-documented weakness for pretty faces. (A habit that got him into trouble as a reckless rich kid, back when his older brother had to clean up his messes.)

But this man? On another level.

Every “beauty” Shi Zhou had ever seen suddenly paled in comparison.

If not for his current pallor, if his complexion was healthier, he might’ve been an even more of a stunner.

Even a simple white button down shirt looked like high fashion on him, sleeves rolled up to reveal toned forearms with just the right amount of muscle.

Shi Zhou swallowed hard.

A strange, restless heat prickled under his skin. Was it the room’s temperature? Or just unfiltered lust? He kept feeling as if something wasn’t right.

Qin Yancheng’s frown deepened at Shi Zhou’s blatant ogling.

Snapping out of it, Shi Zhou coughed and summoned his “Young Master Shi” persona—the icy, untouchable young CEO image he’d always donned in front of outsiders.

A server finally arrived with the belated glass of warm water. Qin Yancheng took a sip, and once they were alone again, he spoke, tone laced with dry amusement:

“Care to introduce yourself? Preferably starting with your gender.”

The voice in the restroom had been unmistakably male. But looking at his Questionable clothing and makeup choice he seemed to be female.
And that face—

That face, Qin Yancheng recognized.

Shi Zhou hummed, tilting his head as if pondering life’s great mysteries. Then, without warning, he hiked up his skirt!

Under the pink lace bunny print was a pair of even cutesier strawberry-patterned safety shorts.

Shi Zhou stared at the very obvious bulge for two full seconds before declaring:

“I think I’m male? Mr. Qin, wanna double-check for me?”

Qin Yancheng: “……?!!”

He averted his eyes the instant the skirt went up, voice sharp with disbelief: “You don’t know your own gender?!”

“Precision is the foundation of integrity,” Shi Zhou intoned solemnly. “One careless move, and the whole game is lost.”

Qin Yancheng’s eye twitched. After a long pause, he said, voice dripping with distaste. “Wash your face. Let me see you without the makeup.”

Shi Zhou was already heading for the bathroom. He’d been dying to see his true face in this life anyway.

He wondered why this Mr. Qin went to the public restroom earlier when there was one here?

You c an fi nd t he la te st cha pte rs at ( th e bl mu se . c o m )

Using hand soap as a makeshift cleanser, Shi Zhou scrubbed off the thick layers of foundation. Then, just to be thorough, he tugged down the safety shorts to confirm everything was still in working order and whether he had shrunk any.

Heat.

He felt even more heated.

He clearly didn’t even want to do anything, but his body had other ideas. A certain part of his anatomy was already shifting into first gear, the inexplicable fire spreading lower, fogging his brain.

If you would like to show some ♡  then please consider supporting this translator! ლ(⌒εー)ლ

Like a rainbow streaking across the sky, the dazzling, outrageously flamboyant Bugatti was sent spinning out of control. The car smashed through the guardrail and plunged straight into the raging river.

Shi Zhou’s head slammed against the windshield as he watched his blood disperse in the water, his life silently slipping away.

You c an fi nd t he la te st cha pte rs at ( th e bl mu se . c o m )

Memories flashed before his eyes like a final reel—his twenty-four years of life had indeed been unremarkable.

His last thought was—

What a ridiculous way to die! If I’d known I’d die young, I should’ve rebelled and fought to become an actor, damn the consequences!

The icy river water and the suffocating pain gripped Shi Zhou’s throat. Slowly, he closed his eyes.

It felt like an eternity—or perhaps just a second—before Shi Zhou’s eyes snapped open again.

He shuddered, the agony of near-death still clinging to him. Gasping for breath, he sat up and looked around.

The room was dim, disco lights spinning wildly, pop songs blaring, and someone was screeching off-key like a tortured cat.

After a car crash, instead of a hospital, I get noise pollution as a second round of torment? Was it all just a nightmare?

Shi Zhou shook his head, trying to dispel the lingering terror of drowning. He scanned the room again—

He was sitting perfectly fine on a VIP lounge sofa. One person was still butchering a song, while the other two stared at him with strange expressions.

“Shi Zhou? What’s wrong? Drink up, this stuff’s amazing.”

Drink?

Was it all just a drunk dream?

The table in front of him was littered with empty bottles—he must’ve drunk a lot. Yet now, he felt completely sober, his heart still pounding from the shock.

And who the hell are these people?

He was certain he didn’t know any of them. But since he was in public, even if confused, he immediately slipped into the cold, dignified heir persona he’d used for years to fool the media. Clearing his throat, he asked icily, “Excuse me, who are you?”

The two men exchanged glances. The greasy, overweight one squinted and grinned. “You blacked out? I’m Lü Qi.”

Lü Qi?

The name rang a bell. The moment he heard it, an image of a fat man popped into his head. Did I lose my memory or—

Wait a damn second!

This was that trashy, dog-blood novel he’d read—the one with the scumbag gong and the doormat shou!

So the car crash was real. His death was real. But fate had given him a second chance at life.

Shi Zhou froze for a moment—but his skin was thicker than most. In no time, he accepted the fact that he’d transmigrated into a book. Not just that, he was already itching to rewrite the ending, give that scumbag gong a one-way ticket to the crematorium, and live his best life without playing the doormat…

But before he could plan the most satisfying way to burn the trash male lead, he realized something was off.

He wasn’t the protagonist, Song Duannian.

He was the cannon fodder stand-in—the one who shared his name.

“Shi Zhou? You okay?” The two men’s expressions grew even weirder, exchanging another glance.

—This was bizarre. They’d just gotten Shi Zhou blackout drunk, watched him pass out face-down on the table. How had he suddenly sprung up like he’d been electrocuted, acting like a completely different person?

Shi Zhou cleared his throat, feigning calm. “I’m going to the restroom.”

He took a step—and immediately stumbled.

Why did it feel like walking on stilts?

Looking down, he realized he was actually wearing bedazzled stilettos.

His gaze traveled up—a frilly pink mini skirt with a petticoat, adorned with a giant white bunny print.

God. Did I transmigrate into the wrong gender?!

If this is the case, maybe I should just return to the factory settings and request a reincarnation do-over.

Shi Zhou wobbled unsteadily on his “stilts,” desperately searching for a bathroom to assess the damage in the mirror.

The place was a labyrinth, twisting and turning like it was designed to disorient guests into thinking it was bigger than it was.

After one circle, Shi Zhou—a certified directionally challenged idiot—somehow ended up back where he started.

Before he could even turn the corner, he heard Fatty Lü Qi’s voice:

“Almost there! What the hell, we already got him drunk! The drug should’ve kicked in by now… Whatever, just get the guys up here to grab him. Second-floor restroom.”

Shi Zhou’s internal alarm bells blared. He suddenly realized exactly which scene he’d transmigrated into.

This cannon fodder stand-in didn’t have much screentime, but this part was unforgettable—the moment before the stand-in cannon fodder truly became a cannon fodder.

If caught now, not only would he be gang-raped by these men, but they’d also take humiliating photos, destroying his career as a C-list celebrity. The shame and public scorn would eventually drive him to suicide.

Shi Zhou didn’t hesitate. He kicked off the damn heels and bolted barefoot, weaving through the maze-like halls in search of an exit.

The corridor was dim, every private room packed with flashing lights and blaring music. Not a single empty space to hide.

Finally, a glow at the end of the hallway—an exit?

Shi Zhou sprinted toward it.

But as the light hit his face, his pupils constricted in horror.

Wasn’t this just the restroom of this floor?

The exact place they were coming to grab him!

Stomping his foot in frustration, Shi Zhou turned to flee—but his eyes caught a figure inside.

A man, clearly unwell, leaned against the wall, one hand braced on the sink, the other pressed to his stomach. He looked like he might collapse any second.

Shi Zhou’s gaze flicked to his face—and his breath hitched. He couldn’t resist looking again.

The man was inhumanly beautiful.

Even as a playboy who’d grown up surrounded by elites and celebrities, Shi Zhou was stunned.

But the man was clearly in bad shape—pale as death, lips bloodless, brows furrowed in a way that was very forbidding. His entire aura screamed stay away.

Still, compared to the thugs hunting him, this sickly beauty seemed like the safer bet.

Shi Zhou dashed forward, oozing fake concern. “Sir! Are you okay? Let me help you back to your room!”

Without waiting for permission, he grabbed the man’s arm, ready to drag him off like a kidnapper.

The man’s head snapped up, his vision unfocused, but he still managed to shove Shi Zhou away. “Don’t touch me,” he said with cold annoyance.

Shi Zhou’s mind was sharp even as his situation was dangerous:

Leaving now meant running straight into his pursuers. This ridiculous pink bunny dress was a neon target. Unless those guys suddenly went blind, he was screwed.

His best bet? Hide in a private room.

But every one was occupied as if this place had very good business. Then logically, they wouldn’t dare barge into each one searching for him… right?

The beautiful man tried to walk away—but staggered after one step, actually collapsing toward the floor!

Shi Zhou instinctively lunged to catch him—

And grossly underestimated the weight of a 190cm tall grown man.

They both crashed to the ground.

Shi Zhou landed hard on his tailbone, biting back a curse. If I had a tail, that would’ve snapped it in half.

The man’s eyes glazed over, on the verge of passing out. Finally, he spoke, voice weak:

“Do you have… candy?”

Shi Zhou blinked. Oh. Low blood sugar?

He automatically patted his pockets because he remembered buying some candy when he bought some cigarettes only to realize—

You c an fi nd t he la te st cha pte rs at ( th e bl mu se . c o m )

That’s right, he was dead.

And this stupid, gender-confused bunny dress had no damn pockets!

Footsteps pounded down the hall—his hunters were coming.

Desperate, Shi Zhou grabbed the man. “Just tell me which room is yours!”

If you would like to show some ♡  then please consider supporting this translator! ლ(⌒εー)ლ