Chapter 1
[Host Information: Wen Rong, 18 years old, raised in an orphanage.]
[Top scorer in the provincial college entrance exam. Excelled at test-taking.]
[Intelligence Score: 50]
[Appearance: Shabby and old-fashioned clothes, plain looks, wears glasses.]
[Appearance Score: 0]
[EQ: 0 | Stamina: 0 | Aggression: 0]
[Assessment: Host is a frail bookworm.]
What is that sound?
[Script Accepted: “The Maid Cafe of the Aristocratic Boys’ School”]
[Role Accepted: The unlucky Special Recruit bullied by F4 in the Aristocratic Academy.]
[Task 1 Accepted]
[Task Process: On the first day of school, have underwear placed on your head by F4, gaining the nickname “Underwear.”]
[Task Objective: F4’s favorability towards the Host reaches -100.]
Wen Rong shook his head vigorously.
His vision shifted from darkness to light. Before him stood a wall of black uniforms.
Where is this…?
“Hey, Special Recruit.”
A cold, heavy male voice cut through his daze. The wall of people split open, the uniformed students shoving left and right to clear a wide path.
At the end of the path sat a red convertible sports car.
A “cool guy” with grey hair sat in the driver’s seat, one hand resting on the steering wheel.
He wasn’t wearing a uniform, just a pure black tank top. His bare arms were solid and powerful, the definition between his muscles etched with shadows deeper than his tan skin.
He locked eyes with Wen Rong, raised a sharp eyebrow, braced one hand on the car door, and vaulted outâagile as a leopard.
Wen Rong, still unable to grasp the situation, watched the cool guy approach. The black soles of the guy’s sneakers seemed to drag a long, massive shadow that loomed over Wen Rong’s face, suffocating him.
The air congealed in that instant. It felt like a coast at nightâno wind, no waves, so quiet you couldn’t hear a thing.
“Name.”
Wen Rong trembled.
Cool Guy: “Your nameâ”
The strange voice that had been silent for a moment rang out again: [Answer quickly. Do not anger him.]
“Wen… Wen Rong.”
“You’re that Special Recruit who saved two people in the river?”
“…”
[It was you.]
“B-But I can’t swim.”
The cool guy frowned deeply. “What did you say?”
[Answer: It was you.]
Wen Rong: “It… it was you.”
[…]
“…”
[Not him. YOU.]
“I… I misspoke, I’m sorry.” Wen Rong lowered his head. “It was me…”
Am I dreaming?
The scorching sun baked the ground, sending waves of heat rushing into Wen Rongâs face.
He was forced to squint. His hands felt like they weighed a thousand pounds, dragging his swaying body downward.
Bangâ
His butt hit the hard floor tiles. Pain and heat shot up from his tailbone to his brain, completely shattering the guess that “this is a dream.”
Laughter erupted around him.
“Hahahahaha, what is he doing?”
“Quick, take a picture!”
Several phones extended from the wall of people, cameras nearly shoved into Wen Rongâs nose. He kicked his legs against the ground, scrambling backward, dragging something with him that made a swish, swish, swish sound.
Suddenly, someone kicked him in the back. “Where do you think you’re running to?”
The hair on Wen Rong’s arms stood up. Switching from sitting to crawling, he scrambled on all fours in a panic.
Suddenly, his hand was yanked hard.
Actually, it wasn’t his hand; the object dragging behind Wen Rong had been kicked.
He looked back in curiosity, his eyes widening in disbeliefâthe object was a woven bag. And Wen Rong clearly remembered that the Director had thrown it away.
…
Three years ago, the Director had bought that woven bag for him to pack his luggage.
Wen Rong had carried it into his high school, walking behind everyone else’s suitcases.
The sound of rolling wheels rose and fell around him. Whenever he inadvertently looked up, he would meet the secretive, profound gazes of his classmates.
You are an alien.
Although they never said it aloud, Wen Rong could feel it.
Back then, he would always fantasize that a cool motorcycle would suddenly stop behind him. A dashing man in leather clothes would jump off, his voice loud enough for the whole school to hear: “Son! I’m here.”
The man would pull him onto the motorcycle, drop him off downstairs at the dormitory just like the other parents, and laugh while hugging him. “What kind of crappy bag is this? Son, I’ll take you to buy a suitcase later! Just like the other students use.”
However, Wen Rong used that woven bag for all three years of high school. And that man never appeared to drape an arm over his shoulder and loudly declare: “Don’t be scared, Dad’s got you covered.”
His heart hurt just as much as his butt, as if both had been rolled over a blade rack.
Tears surged uncontrollably from Wen Rong’s eyes, his lashes clumping together wetly.
He turned around while still on the ground, reaching out to retrieve the only thing in this strange environment that belonged to him.
Another hand grabbed the strap of the woven bag at the exact same time.
Wen Rong thought someone was trying to help. He opened his mouth, ready to say thank you, but the other person suddenly yanked the bag away with force.
He fell flat on the ground. The strap of the woven bag scraped viciously across his palm, leaving a burning pain.
“Let’s see what our Special Recruit brought for registration.”
Swish, swish, swish.
In his blurred vision, a black-haired figure dragged the woven bag across the ground, creating friction.
Rrrripâ
The woven bag was finally torn open, revealing a large gash. Clothes spilled out onto the ground with a clatter.
The onlookers clamored:
“Is that an ‘L-brand’ woven bag? I saw one at fashion week a few years ago.”
“Probably. Poor ghosts love to scrimp and save just to buy cheap, ugly things from those brands.”
…
Wen Rong held up his two aching hands, his face utterly blank.
[BeepâPlot Refinement. On the first day of school, having underwear put on your head by Shi Ye, gaining the nickname “Little Bear Underwear.”]
[Task Objective: Shi Ye’s favorability towards the Host reaches -100.]
“Plot…”
“Task… what is it?”
Wen Rong finally grasped the most critical issue in this strange, terrifying environment.
[Basically, next, you need to put the underwear on your head to register.]
Underwear? On my head?
Conditioned by instinct, Wen Rong dropped to the ground, his two aching hands tightly hugging his head. Like a shrimp tossed into a frying pan, he rapidly curled into a ball.
This was a defensive posture. Growing up alone all these years, he had learned how to protect himself when being beaten.
“Brother Shi, this guy wears cartoon Little Bear underwear!”
A deep voice dropped from above his head. “Tsk, this is your taste?”
Wen Rong knew they were asking him, but he didn’t dare move. He squeezed his eyes shut, praying for it all to end quickly.
“Special Recruit, don’t act like I beat you up. I haven’t even touched you.”
The voice spoke again: “If you’re such a coward, why did you meddle and save those two people?”
“Youâ”
A jubilant, excited voice interrupted the cool guy. “Brother Shi, he sprayed perfume on his underwear. I bet he wants to fish for men at school.”
Fish for men?!
This conclusion was so shocking that Wen Rong subconsciously retorted, “I didn’t.”
“Get up and speak.”
“…”
“If you don’t get up, I’ll put the underwear on your head.”
Wen Rong bolted upright.
The cool guy was looking down at him from a high vantage point. His tall body blocked out the sun, burying his entire face in shadow.
But Wen Rong felt like he was smiling. The corners of his lips held an insufferable arrogance, his eyelids lowered in sheer contempt.
“You like crawling on the ground?”
Wen Rong shook his head vigorously.
“Why such a big reaction to the underwear? Is there a secret?”
This time, Wen Rong shook his head so hard his ears rang.
The cool guy scoffed coldly, turning his head to shout at the black-haired boy. “Show me what perfume the Special Recruit uses to fish for men.”
Wen Rong shook his head again, but nobody seemed to care about his silent protest. Instead, the black-framed glasses perched on his nose were about to be shaken off.
He raised a hand to adjust the temple of his glasses. On the lenses, which reflected a green sheen, the shocking image of a pair of underwear being passed between Black Hair and Grey Hair was projected.
Wen Rongâs mouth slowly fell open as he watched the grey-haired cool guy lift the underwear up.
Bringing it close to the tip of his nose.
The sound of sniffing drifted through the air.
In that very moment, fizzing bolts of lightning snaked through his mind. His moist eyes suddenly widened into perfect circles.
Wait a minute, that underwearâ
- Am. Dead.
Wen Rong instinctively wanted to run, but he was surrounded by strange legs and shoes. In a panic, he scrambled blindly, arching his back and kneeling on the ground, pressing his forehead against the concrete while his hands protected the back of his head.
“Special Recruit, can you have a normal reaction?”
“…” Don’t call me.
“Hey, if you don’t speak, I’m putting the underwear on your head.”
Wen Rong trembled all over, forced to speak: “@#%$.”
“What are you saying? Are you cursing? Cursing what? Louder.”
“@#%$…”
“Can’t hear you.”
Wen Rong swallowed hard, so scared he was almost crying. “@#%… give it back.”
“What are you saying… are you a mute?”
Wen Rongâs butt was kicked, and his forehead was forced to skid forward against the ground.
The crowd erupted in laughter again.
“Hahahaha, look at that ugly Special Recruit!”
“Beat him! He has no parents, the teachers won’t care.”
The piercing voices overlapped with the voices in his memories. Wen Rong gradually couldn’t distinguish reality from the past, his nose stinging with acid pain.
In a flash, the grievances he had accumulated in his heart and never dared to release rushed to his brain. The worries and fears that accompanied him every moment were smashed into a corner by a giant wave.
Wen Rong roared like a small beast: “That is the underwear I wore!”
Wen Rong was a person with rotten luck.
Others had parents; he did not.
If he had been abandoned in a coastal city back then, he might have lived a bit better with government assistance. But he wasn’t. The orphanage where he grew up was located inland, in an unremarkable, impoverished small town.
Others got adopted and found new families, but when he went to a new family, he wasn’t welcome. He was returned in less than a week, becoming a “nail house”âa permanent residentâof the orphanage.
Wen Rong didn’t have many expectations growing up. One of them was that when kind-hearted people donated old school uniforms and promotional t-shirts, they might conveniently donate some underwearâthis very private daily necessity that only people close to you were qualified to care about.
But that expectation never came true.
He couldn’t blame anyone. On the contrary, he should be glad that strangers didn’t associate him with things like underwear when they saw him.
“Little Rong, there are so many reporters here to interview you.”
Last night, when the Director came to find Wen Rong, he was just about to wash the underwear he had just taken off.
“Little Rong, are you there? Quick, quick, come out. You got the highest score in the province; the reporters want to interview you.”
Wen Rong, reacting half a beat too slow, put down the underwear and went with the Director to see the reporters.
The reporters asked him about his future plans, if he planned to look for his mom and dad, if he missed his mom and dad, and what he would say if he saw his mom and dad… Answering so many questions, Wen Rong actually gave birth to a hope that “if the news gets out, I might find my parents.”
That night, for the first time, Wen Rong fell asleep early.
He heard the sound of a motorcycle again.
A big, buff man was taking him for a ride.
“Son, what do you want to eat tonight? Your mom told us to buy groceries on the way back.”
Wen Rong shouted loudly: “I want fried chicken, steak, and bubble tea!”
“Kids who eat junk food aren’t good boys. Bad boys get left on the side of the road…”
Wen Rong woke with a start.
There was no big motorcycle, no mom and dad. His ears were filled with the sound of snoring from the other beds.
Dad didn’t leave him on the side of the road; that was a dream.
He breathed a sigh of relief, but then quickly sucked that breath back in.
The underwear wasn’t washed!
He lowered his legs off the bed, but his feet groped in the darkness for a long time without finding his slippers. He struggled to curl back up onto the bed.
Because of his college entrance exam score, the other “permanent residents” had thrown away his slippers. If he woke them up in the middle of the night, he might get beaten up.
So, Wen Rong endured until the next morning.
He swore he really intended to wash the underwear. If he didn’t wash it, he wouldn’t have any underwear to wear tonight.
But before dawn, the Director hurriedly took him to the government office to ask about the bonus money.
Upon learning he would be given enough money to finish university, he was whisked away non-stop to the school to talk to the teachers about his college application preferences.
Then, and then, these strangers appeared before his eyes, and… and…
He didn’t know why his used underwear was in the woven bag, nor why he was here.
đ Advance Access: Complete Novel
- Option 1: Note your email on PayPal/Ko-fi.
- Option 2: Email proof to beezzzreads@gmail.com.
- Option 3: Comment below.
Recommended Reads
