[Featured ×4]
Du Rui, an exceptionally forgetful reader, finds himself transmigrated into one of the top male harem stallion novels, but as the antagonist. Now inhabiting the role of Xue Xinyu, the cunning villain, Du Rui struggles to maintain his s...
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As they walked toward their quarters, Xue Xinyu's gaze was snagged by a peculiar house that stood out like a sore thumb amidst its vibrant, well-maintained neighbours. While the other houses boasted cheerful flower boxes and bright, welcoming facades, this house seemed to have taken a permanent vacation from anything remotely cheerful.
Its walls were drab and peeling, and the windows, dark and empty, gave it the look of a grumpy old man who hadn't seen sunlight in years.
"What's the deal with that house, Feng-shidi?" Xue Xinyu asked, his curiosity piqued by the house's gloomy aura.
Feng Mingzhu stopped and glanced at the house with a look of resigned acceptance. "It's been abandoned for quite some time now. They say it's haunted, which has scared off any potential buyers," he explained, his tone suggesting he'd told this tale so many times he could recite it in his sleep.
"Why hasn't it been demolished?" Xue Xinyu probed further, genuinely puzzled.
"Officials dare not, for reasons even I am not privy to," Feng Mingzhu said cryptically, as if the house was part of some elaborate, supernatural real estate conspiracy. Despite his best efforts to dismiss it, the eerie allure of the abandoned house lingered in Xue Xinyu's thoughts, like a spooky riddle waiting to be solved.
Yet, he quickly shrugged off the notion, reminding himself that he had enough on his plate without adding haunted houses to the mix.
Arriving in front of the quarters that would house him and Liang Zhiguan for the next few days, Xue Xinyu paused to take in his surroundings. The place was beautifully decorated, with an aesthetic that leaned heavily into dark, earthy tones.
As Xue Xinyu walked, he could practically hear his own heartbeat, pounding in his chest like an overenthusiastic drummer at a rock concert. It wasn't just a gentle thump; it was a full-on drum solo, complete with cymbal crashes and high-energy fills. With every step, he repeated positive affirmations in his head like a mantra.
I can do this, I am competent, I am a peak master, he told himself, each word laden with an optimism that was rapidly dwindling. Yet, no matter how many times he mentally repeated his credentials, the doubts lingered like unwelcome guests at a party.
What if I trip? he wondered, picturing himself face-planting into a potted plant. What if I say something ridiculous? His imagination conjured up scenarios where he called someone's grandmother a cucumber by mistake (which never actually happened but-).
What if I sneeze and accidentally set something on fire with my qi? His mind wandered into the realm of the absurd, envisioning a fiery sneeze turning the room into a scene from a disaster movie. (Okay, maybe that last one was a bit far-fetched, but his nerves weren't exactly known for their logic.)
Feng Mingzhu stopped in front of a grand doorway and turned to face Xue Xinyu. "This is your room. I'll come get you before the meeting, so make sure you're in your room," he instructed, handing Xue Xinyu the keys.
