A Dramatic Transmigration

Part 8 [End]

16

Back in the real world.

I became a millionaire.

Old classmates, friends, and relatives who I hadn't heard from in ages all suddenly came to cozy up to me.

But I deleted their contact information and fled to another city.

Occasionally, my bestie would come visit. She lay in my open-air garden, thoroughly enjoying herself.

"Lin Zhi, you wouldn't believe it, but after you left, those people were everywhere cursing you, calling you ungrateful."

She snorted, "But when you were struggling, they all pretended to be dead. Not a single one helped you."

Hearing this, I countered, "Someone did."

My best friend was taken aback, "Really?"

I smiled, "Back then, my family was in debt, and everyone avoided me. One day, I had a breakdown and couldn't hold on anymore. I was about to jump into the river."

She sat up quickly, "Why didn't you tell me?"

"We didn't know each other yet," I laughed, "But just as I stood on the bridge, someone gave me a phone call."

"It was my high school desk mate." I tried to recall, "I can barely remember what he looked like, just that he was very tall and skinny."

"He called, confessed his feelings, and transferred all his savings to me."

She stared at me wide-eyed, "And then?"

I shrugged, "I didn't take his money, and then I deleted him."

"Why?"

"I was afraid I couldn't resist contacting him and dragging him into my miserable life, so I just deleted him."

"But regardless, because of his call, I gave up on suicide."

I took a deep breath, "And I've lived well ever since."

...

After my bestie left.

I lay in bed, scrolling through my phone.

As usual, I skillfully opened the Strange Seekers Forum.

There was a question in the forum I'd been following for a long time.

"Is there really such a thing as a transmigrator?"

There were many respondents to the question.

Some said yes, others said it was pure fantasy.

Some even started making up stories.

Usually, I read it for fun.

After scrolling for a bit, I got a notification.

【A new answer has been posted to a question you're following, check it out!】

I clicked on it instinctively.

The respondent had an all-black avatar and a username that was just a question mark.

His answer was lengthy.

"Yes, I am a transmigrator..."

I laughed, thinking this was another made-up story.

But the more I read, the less I could laugh.

"Because of a car accident, I ended up in a dog-blood domineering CEO novel, but I wasn't the main character, not even the second or third male lead. My role was just an ordinary policeman..."

"One day, the original female lead suddenly died. You wouldn't believe her cause of death—she died of her own beauty. At the crime scene, I saw a girl. I instinctively thought she was also a transmigrator because she looked like my first love in the real world, even her quirky personality. Back then, I confessed to her, and she immediately deleted me... Sorry, I got off track. But subsequent events confirmed my suspicion..."

This Mr. Question Mark wrote a very long answer.

And it almost perfectly matched my experience.

Unknowingly, my hand that was scrolling down began to tremble.

My heart started pounding wildly.

"...I rushed out to take a bullet for her. At that moment, I didn't think of anything else, but later, seeing her cry made all the pain worth it."

"Yes, I fell in love with her."

"...On the day I was discharged, she came to see me. She said she liked me too."

The answer ended there.

Many people in the comments were asking, "And then? What happened next?"

Someone else said, "If you're making up a story, at least finish it!"

"Be careful, or I'll report you!"

I was waiting for the follow-up too.

More eagerly than anyone else.

Three minutes later, Mr. Question Mark replied.

"...Then the girl collapsed in my arms. She stopped breathing, and I guessed she returned to the real world."

"After she left, I fought evil and upheld justice in the book world, becoming a true good cop. Three years later, I died on a mission, and as my consciousness faded, I returned too."

I stopped breathing for a moment.

It felt like something was stuck in my throat, unable to speak.

I calmed myself down, clicked on Mr. Question Mark's profile, and sent a friend request.

The response came quickly: "No contracts, no novels, thank you for understanding."

I was silent for a few seconds and typed three words: "Huo Zi An?"

...

17

Huo Zi An's real name is He An.

This name was very familiar to me; it was the same as my high school desk mate's.

...

When I went to his city, he came to the airport to pick me up.

In the crowd, I spotted him immediately.

The gentle He An and the roguish Huo Zi An overlapped in my mind, eventually becoming the man in front of me.

He stared at me intently, "Long time no see."

I smiled, "Long time no see."

...

Fate often works in mysterious ways.

For a long time after, I would occasionally think back to this experience.

I felt that maybe He An was sent by heaven to save me.

He completed his first mission excellently, so heaven gave him an additional one.

But I am a person who repays kindness.

When I went to his city to find him, I was already calm.

Before leaving, I could still ask him with a straight face, "Want to come with me?"

He An: "I..."

Me: "I'm rich."

He An: "Give me a day, I'll resign."

-The End-