Chapter 4: Fuck off. Please

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[Your Missions:

1. Main Mission- Show Fei Hong Hua's true face, 350 points

2. Develop a solid fighting style- 100 points

3. Become comfortable with your/his body- 100 points

4. Keep Viyktoria safe- 50 points

5. Pass the rest of the years in Wings happiness- 50 points

Would you like to transmigrate now?]

Yunqing slowly breathed in.

This... Is happening, huh?

I finished training.

I'm helping a severely wronged soul.

And... Well...

I guess it won't be so bad to live again.

"Alright, I'll transmigrate now."

[Transmigrating...

Gate opening...

World starts in 3...

2....

1...

Welcome to your first world]

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Transmigrating was a strange feeling.

First, his senses left one by one.

White crowded into his sight, the floor faded underneath him, and if Yunqing were to guess what a human vegetable was like, this was it.

He felt he was as light as whipped cream yet as dense as condensed milk, fluffy yet thick.

Second, his stomach, or what he thought was his stomach, dropped.

He couldn't even scream as he, third, felt his body being pushed through what felt like a small opening and tight mesh at the same time.

Then fourth, his body seemed to 'bounce back' again.

The babble of what sounded like high schoolers trickled in through his vegetablified brain, their chatter growing louder along with the faint sound of an engine working.

His sense of touch returned also, feeling a stiff, slightly cracked leather cushion under his butt with his arm propped up by a ledge of something smooth and cold. Most likely metal.

The scents of many, random assorted things suddenly rushed into his nose all in one, big wave.

Lavender, Jasmine, pine, ash, rain, everything crashed it's way to his brain.

Yunqing felt like he was going to choke from these smells.

He started to cough, and he rubbed the tears threatening to fall out of his stinging eyes.

Once the pain faded, his eyelids cracked open, revealing a pair of dangerously sharp pupils that could freeze a continent.

Looking around, he realized that he was sitting in a compartment by himself, arm propped up by the ledge of a large, glass window.

What he saw outside was a chic, modern and fancy version of what he guessed was a train station.

The train station bustled below, full of people scrambling to get to the front of the platform

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