Reborn, I Became a Male God - Chapter 31-35

Director Gu, who had seen all kinds of major situations, was completely unable to keep up with Jing Ling’s train of thought at the moment. “An extra?”

Granted, no film could do without extras, and The Island was no exception. But the extras in this film were limited to the cruise ship scene at the very beginning—after that, it was all scenes involving the main cast.

So he didn’t understand why Jing Ling would suddenly ask about this now.

 

“Yeah, just an extra.” Jing Ling nodded. “Isn’t my final scene supposed to be filmed in the studio? I get killed by the giant snake, then game over.”

 

Before Chen Huaimin died, he had speculated that the group had been dragged into a bloody hunting game—they were the prey, and the ninth person was a hunter who had been waiting here all along.

But that wasn’t the truth. Everyone on this island was prey. The game was two-sided, and there was also a third party involved—that snake that killed Jing Ling.

It was a 1 vs. 8 game. The male and female leads’ side had eight people, while Jing Ling was all on his own. To make up for the difference in numbers, he had been placed on the island ahead of time to get familiar with the environment, and someone behind the scenes had been feeding him information about the snake’s existence and location. One of the eight people from the lead characters’ side had simply had bad luck and ran into the snake and got taken out.

 

The ninth person played by Jing Ling needed to kill all eight people who had been sent to the island in order to leave alive. But halfway through the game, the person pulling the strings behind the scenes changed the plan.

That’s why there was that plot point where, after killing Chen Huaimin and leaving, he doubled back. The earlier people had all just been straightforwardly killed. But this time, the dismemberment was completely out of the ordinary—because the manipulator behind the scenes demanded it.

 

This was a foreshadowing left for the sequel. After the ninth person died, the male and female leads became the new hunters, waiting for the next batch of prey.

 

“The snake here is going to be added with special effects in post-production, right? Director Gu, your productions have never lacked for budget, but let’s be honest—our special effects have always been a bit… hard to compliment. So, Director Gu, would you consider dropping the effects and going with a live-action shoot instead?” Jing Ling sincerely offered the suggestion.

 

“No special effects, real scene? That’s a giant snake that can swallow people whole—where are you going to find one? Even if there really is one, would I dare shoot it, and would you dare act with it?” 

Director Gu looked at him expressionlessly.

 

Jing Ling nodded. “Why wouldn’t I dare? Director, hold on a sec—I’ll show you something.”

He said this while unlocking his phone and dialing Jiang Siyang’s number. After a couple rings, the call was picked up.

“You little brat—”

 

“Instructor, don’t scold me yet—do me a favor. Send me the surveillance footage you guys shot.” Jing Ling cut the other person off.

 

On the other end of the line, Jiang Siyang snorted coldly and replied firmly, “Not helping.”

 

Jing Ling didn’t seem surprised at all. “Do me this favor, and I’ll agree to get rid of those two little rascals.”

Jiang Siyang fell silent for a moment after hearing that.

“…Fine, wait there.”

 

Jing Ling half-coaxed and half-dragged Director Gu to sit down in front of the laptop. After receiving the surveillance footage sent by Jiang Siyang, he clicked play.

The video wasn’t long—just a few minutes. It was a clip Jiang Siyang had deliberately edited, showing the appearance of the snake.

 

Director Gu had been full of question marks, wondering if he was just completely out of touch with modern society and unable to understand young people anymore.

But after watching the surveillance footage, he felt that this generational gap wasn’t just wide—it was so wide his heart could hardly take it.

 

“Need a fast-acting heart pill, Director? I always carry some with me.” Jing Ling closed the laptop and joked.

Director Gu took a deep breath and calmed himself down, then rolled his eyes at him without the slightest courtesy. “Kid, are you trying to stir up trouble or what?!”

 

Jing Ling launched into a long, nonstop explanation:
“Little Grey is very well-behaved, Director, I swear. Did you see that little tiger crouched in the bushes? That’s Little Hui’s wife—the South China tiger that was all over the news a while back.

Maybe life in the mountains is too hard, so they had no choice but to come down looking for a way to make a living. They passed by the military and managed to beg a few meals, but because they eat a lot, they were soon driven away.

Now they desperately need a job to support themselves!

Director, can you really bear to watch this sweet couple from the deep mountains starve to death just because they can’t find work? They don’t want a salary—just food is fine!”

 

Director Gu was usually quite composed outside of filming, showing a gentlemanly demeanor. But at this moment, he couldn’t suppress the raging chaos within and pointed at Jing Ling’s nose.

“A tiger and a snake make a couple?! Coming down the mountain to find work?! Acting as extras just for food?! If you’re so good at this, why aren’t you a screenwriter?!

Oh wait—none of today’s screenwriters would even dare make stuff up like you do! You think real life is one of those Green River Literature novels or something?!

Filming’s done and you’ve grown bold, huh? Messing with me for fun now, is that it? Want me to make you reshoot the whole thing?! Get lost!”

 

Director Gu’s nickname, “Gu Mengmeng” (literally “Cute Gu”), wasn’t for nothing. When he got mad, his eyes went round, his cheeks puffed up, and combined with his round face and plump figure, he really did look kind of cute.

But only outside of filming—when it came to shooting, his temper could make you question your life.

“Heaven knows, Director Gu, how could I bear to mess with someone as cute as you? I’m being serious! Little Hui’s wife is someone I rescued.

When the South China tiger news broke out, our school just happened to be doing military training with the army.

Okay, I admit the whole ‘came down the mountain to make a living’ thing was a joke.

They’re probably here to repay a favor.

I just saw how committed you are to making your film perfect, and I wanted to give you a hand.

Think about it, Director Gu—top-level special effects may look real, but the cost is even more real. Hiring an extra only takes three meals a day.

Wouldn’t it be better to save the millions and use it for promotion instead?”

 

Jing Ling said all this with such sincerity, not a trace of guilt in his expression, that it almost seemed real. Director Gu even felt like he was starting to believe it.

He felt he had to say something, but then Jing Ling added,
“Director Gu, you don’t believe me, do you? The shoot here is almost done anyway—why not come with me to Changchu Ridge for a look? It’s only a few hours’ flight, and two days would be more than enough. Just treat it like a mini vacation. How about it?”

 

Director Gu: “I believe you’re cursed!”

 

A few days later, after all the scenes on the island were finished, the crew packed up and prepared to leave.

Director Gu and Jing Ling flew to Qin City a step ahead of the others.

Two days later in the evening, the two of them returned from Qin City.

 

Director Gu gathered the film crew and got straight to the point, asking:
“Anyone here got guts?”

 

The crew: ???

 

Chapter 32

 

The phrase “being bold” is far too vague a concept—standards vary depending on the person and the situation. Although no one knew why the director suddenly brought this up, since everyone in the crew was just trying to make a living, they’d all seen their fair share of strange things. No one would admit to being timid, so they all patted their chests and assured the director: “Whatever you need, just say the word. Walk through fire or climb a mountain of blades—no problem. There’s nothing that can’t be solved with a raise. And if there is, just make it double or triple.”

 

Looking at this group of carefree staff who clearly weren’t taking him seriously, Director Gu sneered inwardly. Well, you said it yourselves. Don’t come crying later.

 

“Since you’re all so brave, then I’ve got nothing to worry about. Pack up—we’ll head out the day after tomorrow to Qin City for some location shooting.”

 

Everyone: “No problem!”

 

Two days later, at noon, the crew arrived in Qin City and then drove to a hotel near the Changchu Ridge Mountain Range. After resting for a night, the team set out with their equipment and entered Changchu Ridge.

 

As a geographical marker dividing the central and southern administrative regions, Changchu Ridge stretches over 2,000 kilometers east to west and spans 200 to 300 kilometers north to south. The section near Qin City is in the eastern part, where the mountains branch out like tree limbs toward the southeast. The Dannan River and Qinggu River run through it, crisscrossed by tributaries, forming a landscape of interwoven mountains and valleys. The terrain here flattens out, with an average elevation of about 1,000 meters. The climate is pleasant, and biodiversity is rich.

 

The crew entered Changchu Ridge from the northern outskirts of Qin City. At first, the path was fairly level. Though the forest was lush and dense, with someone leading the way, they were able to carry equipment without too much trouble. But as they ventured deeper, the canopy above grew thicker, casting an oppressive darkness. Even the blazing midday sun could only shine through in narrow beams. The underbrush rose to human height, and vines tangled across the path, climbing from ground to treetop and hanging down again. Bird calls and insect chirps echoed from beneath the leaves.

 

After walking for about an hour, the foliage became so thick that the forest was almost completely dark. A river could be heard murmuring nearby.

 

Zhao Mingzhi swung his long sickle to cut away low-hanging branches. A gust of wind blew past, and he instinctively shivered. As he walked, he called back to Director Gu, “Director, what exactly are we here to shoot? We’ve been walking for an hour already—do we have to go further in? I remember reading news reports about these mountains being pretty wild, with wolves and tigers and stuff showing up a lot. Sure, we’ve got numbers, but what if one of them just swipes someone?”

 

Humans have an instinctive fear of predators. With the eerie atmosphere, several people in the group started to panic—some looking around nervously, others sticking close to the crowd, and a few even yelping aloud.

 

The team grew restless.

 

Having been through worse, Director Gu didn’t even frown. He held up a megaphone and said as he walked, “What’s all the fuss? Didn’t you all claim to be brave? Is this what you call brave?”

 

Everyone: “…”

 

Who knew you were bringing us into a jungle to test our nerves, old man!

 

“Look at you all, scared stiff! Especially you, Zhao Mingzhi! What a disgrace! Jing Ling, go up front and lead the way!” Director Gu shouted into his megaphone.

 

Jing Ling glanced helplessly at the director walking right beside him and muttered, “You know, I can hear you just fine without the megaphone.” After a pause, he added, “We don’t need to go further. They’re here.”

 

Director Gu flinched instinctively. His voice even trembled. “Th-they’re here?”

 

“Mm.” Jing Ling nodded. He had already caught the distinctive, pungent scent of snakes—it was getting closer. The signs had been there: the deeper they went, the quieter the forest became. That wasn’t normal; it meant a top predator was near. A python the size of Little Grey was the apex predator in this jungle—no natural enemies.

 

“We’re there?”

 

“Thank God, the Long March is finally over!”

 

“I don’t see anything special about this place.”

 

Zhao Mingzhi tossed his sickle aside and flopped to the ground, panting. 

 

“Clearing the path is hell! Director, can I request a rai—lo-lo-lo-lo—”

 

“What do you mean ‘lo’? You want a raise, right?”

 

“N-n-n-no, over there…”

 

“What’s over the—AH! A tiger!”

 

A tiger’s roar echoed through the forest, sending everyone into stunned silence.

 

Even Director Gu was frightened. He instinctively ducked behind Jing Ling and urged him in a shaky voice, “Y-y-you go handle it!”

 

Jing Ling shot him a look. “Didn’t you know this already? What are you scared for?” He had originally advised telling the crew ahead of time, but Director Gu insisted on giving them a “surprise.” Now it was backfiring on all of them.

 

Still, complaints aside, Jing Ling had to stabilize the situation before panic caused injuries.

 

“Alright, Little Flower, stop roaring. I know you’re here. Come give me a hug!” he called, stepping into a clearing with arms wide open. Right after he spoke, the tiger leapt from the bushes, sprinted over, and pounced on him—placing its forelegs on his shoulders and rubbing its big head against his.

 

“Hey—stop licking me, girl! I don’t want a scarred face! And sure, you’re pretty, but I’m still grossed out that you haven’t brushed your teeth.”

 

“Roar—” This time, the tiger’s cry lacked force and almost sounded… hurt.

 

“There, there, don’t be mad. I was just joking!” Jing Ling quickly scratched her head to appease her.

 

For a while, only Jing Ling’s voice and the tiger’s purring filled the forest.

 

Director Gu stood stiffly with his megaphone. As for the rest, it took them less than a minute to go from terror and disbelief to questioning reality itself. Who knew what psychological journey they’d just been on?

 

Jing Ling and the tiger cuddled for a good while before the others slowly began to recover.

 

“Pinch me. Am I dreaming?”

 

“Pinch me too!”

 

“Don’t forget me!”

 

“Enough with the ‘me too’! Didn’t you all say you were brave? Look at yourselves! It’s just a tiger! Haven’t you been to the zoo? Wait till you see the next one—you won’t even be able to walk!” Director Gu shouted again, though his voice was oddly dry.

 

Everyone glared at him with such resentment it was as if they were trying to make him repent through sheer eye power. But in their fury, they failed to notice what he was hinting at.

 

“What’re you glaring at? I asked if you were brave, and you all promised me!” Director Gu shot angry glares back at everyone.

 

Meanwhile, Jing Ling, still petting the tiger, suddenly turned toward the others as the sound of slithering reached his ears.

 

“Alright, stop glaring. Just a heads-up—the star of today’s shoot is about to arrive. Anyone got heart issues? I’ve got emergency heart pills. Come grab one.”

 

The crew just scoffed. We’ve already seen a tiger—what could possibly top that?

 

Reality soon proved they were far too naive.

 

A loud rustling sound came closer. Suddenly, a massive black shape burst through the trees. It was a colossal snake—far beyond anything they could comprehend. Flicking its tongue, it slithered up a large tree, then lowered its head to gaze down at them.

 

For a moment, everyone forgot to breathe.

 

“AHHH—”

 

“Mommy, help!”

 

“A monster!”

 

Screams erupted. The timid ones fell to the ground, legs too weak to stand, let alone run.

 

Director Gu… wasn’t much better. His legs shook, and his megaphone nearly slipped from his hand.

 

Jing Ling sighed. “Didn’t I tell you to be mentally prepared?”

 

There are many unforgettable experiences in life, but this one was unanimously the no.1. Normally when you’re tricked, you want to punch someone. But right now, no one had the strength. All they could think was: Mom, Earth is too dangerous—I want to go back to Mars. Triple pay? Add another zero and I still wouldn’t do this. I’ll never brag about being brave again. Sob sob sob!

 

In The Island, Jing Ling’s final scene involved getting killed by a giant snake drawn by the scent of bl00d. Originally, this was going to be done with CGI—but Jing Ling came up with the harebrained idea to film it live. Director Gu couldn’t resist the temptation, got roped in, and then dragged the crew along too. Thus the nightmare cycle continued. Aside from Jing Ling, everyone else received a shocking “surprise.”

 

Since the scene was meant to mimic an island environment, it had to be shot near water. After over an hour of chaos and recovery, the crew begrudgingly resumed work, following the tiger and giant snake through the forest to a riverside location. Gu Mengmeng stood on a giant rock, his rotund body surveying the area, and quickly located his previously chosen filming spot.

 

The crew looked on numbly as the snake swam across with boxes of equipment strapped to its back—and the tiger lounged on top of it.

 

Right… it’s clearly illegal to become a spirit after the founding of the nation. This must be a dream! Take a deep breath, close your eyes, open them again, and we’ll wake up—just kidding!

 

Someone please save our shattered worldviews, QAQ.

 

After reaching the site, Jing Ling unloaded the equipment boxes from the snake and set them aside. Then he coaxed the tiger off its back and told it to lie quietly nearby. Once everything was ready, he turned to Director Gu and said, “Director, I’m good here. We can start setting up the equipment.”

 

Director Gu nodded and shouted through the megaphone, “Wake up, dreamers! Get the gear installed and calibrated—we’re aiming for one take! If we nail it, I’ll treat you all to a big meal!”

 

Everyone inwardly: Sorry, but right now we feel more like the main course. Or rather, snacks. That snake’s size? One or two of us wouldn’t even fill its teeth!

 

A scene lasting less than two minutes took over four hours to shoot—from noon to late afternoon—with constant issues. Surprisingly, Gu Mengmeng was incredibly patient the entire time, not yelling once. Anyone watching would think he’d been replaced.

 

A massive shadow slithered through the forest, rustling the vegetation. The ninth person, dripping wet, suddenly turned in alarm—only to see a black blur rushing at him. He didn’t even have time to react before he was wrapped tightly in coils. The giant snake rendered him completely helpless. His dagger slipped from his hand and clattered to the ground.

 

Once the prey was fully constricted, the snake opened its jaws and swallowed him whole.

 

“Cut! That’s a wrap! Great work, everyone!”

 

The crew stood in a daze, mentally blank: God knows what we just went through.

 

Chapter 33

 

It was already five in the afternoon. The scorching sun that had once hung high overhead had become gentle, drifting westward toward the edge of the sky, about to set. But its location didn’t really affect the crowd—it had been broken into shafts of light by the dense canopy and now served only as illumination.

 

A light breeze rustled the leaves, producing a soft rustling sound.

 

The crew members were packing up the equipment and organizing it. Jing Ling, who had been swallowed and spat back out by Little Grey, jumped directly into the river fully clothed. Only when the icy water reached past his shoulders did he let out a long breath. That creature Little Grey really had too strong a smell—even ordinary people would find it hard to bear, let alone someone like him with an extremely sensitive sense of smell.

 

He held his breath and sank to the bottom of the river, resurfacing after a few seconds. Just then, there was a splash—something had fallen into the water, sending up a huge spray. It was Little Flower. Seeing that Jing Ling was in the water, she had followed and jumped in too, her body submerged while her large head bobbed above the surface, circling around him.

 

Little Flower, the young lady, was clearly having a great time.

 

Director Gu was squatting on a nearby rock, using the loudspeaker as a microphone. With a mischievous expression, he interviewed Jing Ling: “How does it feel to escape from a snake’s mouth?”

 

Jing Ling pushed away Little Flower’s approaching head and replied to Director Gu, “Thanks for your concern, sir, but what you really need to worry about right now is Little Grey’s food situation. We agreed at the beginning—no salary, just food, remember? And Little Flower too—even though she didn’t help much, she’s still family. Would you feel right letting her go hungry? She doesn’t eat much—about thirty kilos of beef should be enough. As for Little Grey, you might want to look up how much snakes eat. Typically, they can consume over 25% of their body weight in one meal. But since one meal can last him a year or so, I’ll cut you a deal—10% will do. Given the combined appetites of both animals, I suggest you just hand the money over to the military and let them handle the purchasing and feeding. How about that?”

 

Director Gu felt like he was going to fall apart after hearing that. “No salary, just food” had sounded like a great deal—but now, not so much. If he had paid a background actor in cash, it might have been a few hundred yuan per day, but feeding them? Even Little Flower, just the family member, would cost over a thousand. And Little Grey, calculated by body size percentage? Unimaginable.

 

Damn it, he felt scammed. His heart was bleeding!

 

Director Gu wore a hopeless expression.

 

Jing Ling’s tone was not kind. “Don’t tell me you’re thinking of weaseling out, Director Gu? Little Flower is young and good-tempered, so she won’t mind. But Little Grey? He’s not so easygoing.” As he spoke, a massive tree nearby suddenly trembled.

 

Director Gu shivered in fright and quickly said, “Don’t talk nonsense! I have a great reputation! It’s just a meal, right? No need for a discount—I’ll pay the full price! But I’ll have to trouble you to contact the military.”

 

“I forgot you’re a rich man, Director Gu. No problem, I’ll get in touch with them later.” Jing Ling sank back into the water, letting the river wash away the scent on his body. After a while, he resurfaced.

 

Little Flower splashed happily beside him.

 

Jing Ling patted her head. “Alright, that’s enough. You can play again later, okay?”

 

Little Flower reluctantly rubbed her head against his hand, splashed a few times, then climbed ashore.

 

The crew had more or less finished packing up and were preparing to head down the mountain.

 

Jing Ling waved toward the crowd. “Anyone want a photo with the tiger? Normal shot, 100 yuan; close-up, 200 yuan. Today only—limited time offer! You can also pose with the snake, double the price!”

 

Everyone: “……”

 

As annoying as he sounded, the offer was seriously tempting! Even zoo tickets cost over a hundred, and while there were other animals, you couldn’t get close enough to take photos. Now there was a live tiger right in front of them—well-behaved, even a bit cute. They’d already come all this way and been scared half to death; it would be a pity not to get a souvenir.

 

So—

 

“Me!”

 

“I want a photo!”

 

“One of each! But I don’t have enough cash—do you take red packets?”

 

“…I kinda want a photo with Little Grey. Anyone else?”

 

“Uh, I do too.”

 

“Count me in!”

 

Because of the photo op, they were delayed for nearly another hour. Most people wanted a photo with Little Flower. At first, they just stood next to her flashing peace signs. Then someone brave went up and put an arm around her neck, posing heroically for a shot. After that, the rest followed suit, hugging her, petting her head, cuddling up—it turned into a whole variety show. As for photos with Little Grey, everyone was tempted, but no one had the courage. In the end, they all agreed to take one big group photo with him.

 

Jing Ling felt he’d really missed out on a fortune there.

 

Half the sun had already set behind the horizon, and the light in the forest dimmed. Nightfall arrived early. Considering the rough mountain roads, Jing Ling asked the group if they’d like a lift from Little Grey. The suggestion was a real test of courage—tempting, but terrifying. In the end, Director Gu gritted his teeth and made the call, “Let’s do it! Why not? Others don’t even get the chance! I’ll personally sponsor 200 yuan for the ride!”

 

That did make sense. Without this chance encounter, they might never have seen a creature like Little Grey—one that went beyond all understanding—let alone gotten so close.

 

“I’ve been working all day—I’m not walking. I’m in! 100 yuan for the ride!”

 

“Me too! I’ll send a red packet when I get back!”

 

“Count me in too!”

 

One by one, everyone agreed. They tied the crew’s prop ropes to Little Grey’s body and clambered on.

Director Gu sat in the front, holding the loudspeaker. “Everyone ready? Little Grey, let’s go!”

 

A grown man still playing around like this… Jing Ling rubbed his forehead helplessly, then patted Little Grey’s body. “Let’s go.”

 

Right on cue, Little Flower let out a roar, and the Little Grey shuttle started moving through the forest, surprisingly smoothly. The journey that had taken the crew a long time earlier was completed in under fifteen minutes. And that was only because Little Grey deliberately slowed down to keep things steady—it could’ve been faster.

 

Once they reached the forest’s edge, Little Grey stopped. Everyone reluctantly climbed down and unloaded the equipment. They stood in place to say goodbye, watching it carry Little Flower back into the depths of the forest.

 

It was like a dream. Even after boarding the bus back to the hotel, the group still felt dazed. But compared to them, the driver had been frowning the whole time, thinking: what the heck did these people do up in the mountains? They were fine on the way there, but now they all looked dazed and reeked of something fishy. The smell filled the entire bus—even the AC couldn’t help. He was definitely charging a cleaning fee later!

 

It wasn’t just the driver—other hotel guests they passed avoided them from a distance. But no one from the crew cared. They took their equipment and headed back to their rooms.

 

The next afternoon, the crew returned home.

 

That night, the film’s official account posted a Weibo update.

 

@MovieIslandV: #MovieIsland# After more than three months, the final scene of our ninth actor (@JingLing_Second Most Handsome Under the Heavens) has finally wrapped! See you in cinemas on May 1st—don’t miss out on our charming young man!

 

Director Gu reposted it.

 

@GuQingsongV: The kid’s acting is full of spirit, dedicated and professional—he deserves praise! By the way, I have one question: Anyone brave enough? @NeverLookAtLittleFlowerTheSame @NeverLookAtLittleGreyTheSame @NeverLookAtLittleFlowerAndGreyTheSame @WhatDoYouGetWhenATigerAndSnakeMate [Image]

 

The attached photo showed a forested area with a vague giant black shadow hidden among the trees. Because of Weibo’s character limit, he couldn’t tag everyone, so Director Gu tagged all the crew who had been there in the comments. Everyone reposted it and replied with a string of virtual spitting emojis.

 

Spectators didn’t understand what had happened, but that didn’t stop them from reposting. It spread like wildfire, and that line became a trending meme. Tons of people used it, though few knew where it came from.

 

—

 

After filming wrapped, Jing Ling jumped straight from mid-semester to winter vacation. He had taken his final exams during brief gaps in filming—shooting a scene one day, catching a flight the next to take an exam. It lasted three days in total. As soon as he was done, he flew back to Jiang City to continue filming. A week later, his grades came out—he scored nearly perfect in all subjects and secured first place in the department, shutting everyone up.

 

By the time filming at Changchu Ridge ended, it was already February 15. Just three days remained before Lunar New Year’s Eve. Out of habit, despite having very few relatives left back home, Jing Qiu still chose to return for the New Year. Jing Ling didn’t care either way, so he accompanied her.

 

Jing Qiu cooked a rich meal. After the offerings, she lit firecrackers, and with their crackling in the background, the two began to eat.

 

After dinner, Jing Qiu handed Jing Ling a red envelope. “You’ll be eighteen next year. This is your last one.”

 

It contained 1,000 yuan—symbolizing perfection and completeness. She’d earned it from part-time jobs during university.

 

Jing Ling accepted it with a smile. “Thanks, sis!”

 

For the next three days, they lived off leftovers. By the night of the third day, it finally ended. Feeling sentimental, Jing Ling casually posted a Weibo update.

 

@JingLing_SecondMostHandsomeUndertheHeavens V: Thank heavens, no more leftovers starting tomorrow!

 

The comments were full of sympathy and laughter.

 

Not long after the New Year, the new semester began. On the day Jing Ling returned to school, he unexpectedly got a call from Jiang Sijin, whom he hadn’t heard from in a long time.

 

“Hi, Miss Jiang, what can I do for you?”

 

“Jing Ling, are you free this weekend? It’s my birthday—I’d like to invite you.”

 

Ever since the incident during military training, he knew this invitation would come eventually—he just didn’t expect it to take so long, and in such a roundabout way.

 

He replied with a smile, “Sure!”

 

Chapter 34

 

As one of the top elite families in the Western Administrative District, every move the Jiang family made attracted considerable attention. However, the Jiangs had always kept a low profile. The last time they hosted guests was two years ago, for Jiang Sijin’s eighteenth birthday. That banquet was packed with prominent figures and familiar faces often seen on TV news.

 

This time, just after the New Year, they suddenly sent out invitations again, still under the pretense of Jiang Sijin’s birthday. Privately, everyone speculated about the Jiang family’s intentions, suspecting it had something to do with their little princess’s marriage prospects. She was, after all, the cherished darling of the entire Jiang household. Although she had a bothersome number of older brothers, marrying her would be a shortcut to the top!

 

Many hearts were stirred.

 

But none of this had anything to do with Jing Ling. He was just going there, waiting for the Jiang family to hand him a perfect excuse for his skills. Yes—he didn’t even have to wrack his brains; others would come up with something for him.

 

When he first arrived in this world, he had thoroughly gone through the original host’s memories. Aside from the appearance, he was a completely ordinary person. But when he saw Little Grey in the Changchu Mountains, a memory suddenly resurfaced—of an unnamed old man and a unique form of teaching.

 

Jing Ling had wondered if this was the system’s last-ditch attempt to correct the world on his behalf. After all, during past missions, the system would always assign him a flawless new identity in each new world. So he suspected it might be the system’s doing this time too—perhaps trying to arrange a backup path for him after the accident, but for some reason, got the gender wrong and hid a piece of his memory. It wasn’t impossible.

 

Still, what was done was done—no point dwelling on it.

 

Since he was here, he might as well make peace with it.

 

After reporting in for the new semester and attending two days of classes, it was Friday. Jing Ling had already given Jing Qiu a heads-up and asked Shen Ze to book a plane ticket. The latter was quite worried when he found out where Jing Ling was headed but couldn’t stop him. He could only give heartfelt reminders to be cautious and not to drink anything from strangers…

 

Jing Ling was speechless. “Do you think I’m some clueless little girl?”

 

Shen Ze emphasized, “Even girls aren’t as good-looking as you!”

 

Jing Ling: “…You win. I’ll be careful. Don’t worry.”

 

The flight from Qin City to Lanzhou’s Mingchuan left at 5 p.m. and arrived promptly at 8:15 p.m. Because he needed to show ID for boarding, Jing Ling didn’t go overboard with his disguise like before. This time he just wore a wig and sunglasses, and the results were unexpectedly effective—no one recognized him along the way.

 

Jiang Sijin’s birthday banquet was scheduled for Saturday night. That meant he still had an entire day, and Jing Ling was in no rush. After dropping his luggage in the hotel room, he even had the leisure to go out for a walk.

 

Mingchuan was the center of Lanzhou—bustling and prosperous, as expected. 

 

Night had fallen over the city, with neon lights illuminating a sleepless urban landscape. Storefronts lining the streets glowed brilliantly, creating a lavish and dazzling world. Though it was still cold in the northwest in March, the square at the end of the main street was full of people, and the small vendors were naturally not missing either.

 

Jing Ling wandered for a bit before preparing to leave, when a girl sitting on a bench suddenly called out to him.

 

“Hey, handsome, how about a fortune reading?” Her voice was clear and pleasant, and she quickly added, “It’s free.”

 

“There’s no such thing as a free lunch” was most people’s belief. But Jing Ling was an exception—he was fearless. He stopped and turned toward the girl with a smile. “Is it because I’m good-looking?”

 

The girl: “…”

 

A few seconds of awkward silence passed. Then she burst out laughing. 

 

“Actually, I read fortunes based on fate. But good-looking people usually have strong fates. Even though most of your face is covered, based on my years of experience, you must have excellent bone structure.”

 

“Mind if I sit here?” Jing Ling pointed at the empty spot beside her. When she nodded, he sat down.

“How do you do it? Palm reading, face reading, or character divination?” he asked.

 

The girl tilted her head at him. “You seem to know your stuff. Those are the common ones—also the favorite tricks of street scammers. But I’m different. I inherited a unique family technique. I can see the near future with just my eyes.”

 

Jing Ling focused on a side detail. “Why only the near future, not the distant one?”

 

She didn’t mind being questioned. “Life is a journey full of variables. If I could see the end, I’d be a god, not a human.”

 

“What about my future, then? What do you see?” Jing Ling dropped the topic and moved on to the reason he stayed.

 

The girl’s gaze locked onto his face. She had beautiful almond-shaped eyes that tilted slightly upward, giving her a playful charm. But at that moment, their eye contact gave off an inexplicable depth.

 

“Heading southwest, you’ll encounter some small troubles—also your destined fate.” After a long pause, she withdrew her gaze. Her face was slightly paler than before—though hardly noticeable unless one looked closely.

 

Jing Ling couldn’t help finding it amusing. “Small trouble” was too vague to count for anything. As for “destined fate,” that was even more far-fetched. 

 

While he had adapted well to this identity, it had been less than a year—nothing compared to the decades before. Maybe one day he’d fall for a girl, but definitely not now.

 

Still, the “southwest” part wasn’t wrong—the Jiang family was in that direction.

 

“Thanks, beauty. It’s getting late. If you’ve got nothing else to do, head home early—it’s not safe at night.” With that, he got up to leave. The girl stood up too, shrugged, and said, “You’re right. See you if fate allows!”

 

“See you!”

 

However, despite both saying goodbye, they ended up taking the same route, arriving at the same hotel, even on the same floor—finally standing in front of two adjacent room doors, staring at each other.

“What a coincidence!” Jing Ling said with a smile.

 

“Indeed,” the girl nodded. “I’m Yang Xinyao.”

 

“Jing Ling.”

 

Hearing his name, she looked a little surprised. “So it’s you.” But her tone wasn’t that of a fan recognizing a celebrity. Sure enough, she added, “I’ve heard of you. I came here because of you. Let me reintroduce myself—fourteenth-generation heir of the Yang family of the East, one of the Five Houses.”

 

From that kind of introduction, Jing Ling could basically confirm—this was just like Bai Ningxi’s Bai family: another group that fell under this world’s category of the supernatural. He couldn’t deny he was intrigued, but a hotel corridor wasn’t the place to talk.

 

“There’s a restaurant on the sixth floor. Would I have the honor of inviting Miss Yang to dinner?”

 

She gladly accepted.

 

Though it was called dinner, it was more like a late-night meal. It didn’t last long—just over twenty minutes. They didn’t really know each other, and were just using dinner as an excuse to talk. If Yang Xinyao had been the same gender as him, Jing Ling wouldn’t have bothered with this roundabout approach—he’d have invited her straight into his room.

 

After dinner, they returned to the guest floor. After saying goodnight, they each went into their rooms. Jing Ling took a quick shower, changed into the bathrobe he brought, and collapsed onto the bed, thinking over what Yang Xinyao had just told him before quickly falling asleep.

 

The next morning, he got up early. After washing up and heading out for breakfast, he ran into Yang Xinyao again. A solo outing became a duo. They ran into each other again at lunch and ended up agreeing to go to the Jiang family together in the afternoon.

 

By around 4 p.m., Jing Ling had finished getting ready, then waited another half-hour for Yang Xinyao before they finally left the hotel together. The car they’d asked the hotel to call was already waiting out front. After they got in, the driver asked, “Where to?”

 

“Shangxian Mountain,” Jing Ling replied. Here, Shangxian Mountain didn’t refer to an actual mountain but to the cluster of luxury villas at its base. Though not in the heart of the city, it was unquestionably the most exclusive property in Mingchuan—filled with the powerful and wealthy. Even money couldn’t guarantee a place there.

 

The driver looked like he wanted to say something, but Jing Ling added, “I know taxis aren’t usually allowed in there. Just drive. You’ll be well compensated.”

 

With that assurance, the driver said no more and headed southwest toward Shangxian Mountain. Traffic was smooth, and about 50 minutes later, they arrived at the base of the mountain. From afar, they could see a checkpoint guarded by two men in military uniforms.

 

The driver stopped about twenty meters away. After paying 200 yuan, Jing Ling and Yang Xinyao got out and started walking.

 

Jing Ling joked, “Do you think with two invitation cards, they’ll let the taxi in?”

 

Yang Xinyao smiled. “Look where we are—even twenty cards wouldn’t do it. Oh wait, if you did have twenty, you’d probably be invited in.” She emphasized the word “invited.”

 

As they talked, they arrived at the checkpoint. The guards unsurprisingly stopped them, scrutinized their invitation cards carefully, and finally let them through.

 

A short way past the checkpoint, Jing Ling asked, “You must have friends around here. Borrowing a car wouldn’t be hard. Why come with me in a taxi and enjoy this special treatment?”

 

She replied honestly, “I was bored.”

 

Just then, Jing Ling’s phone rang—it was Jiang Sijin.

 

“Hello, Miss Jiang.”

 

“Sorry, Jing Ling. Things are crazy here, and I couldn’t pick you up myself. I asked Sixth Brother to arrange things. Where are you now? If you’re unfamiliar with the area, ask the driver picking you up.”

 

Jing Ling replied calmly, “Already at the base of Shangxian Mountain—almost there.” After a brief chat, he hung up.

 

Yang Xinyao then said, “See? Small trouble.”

 

Jing Ling was unfazed. “Just a bunch of obsessive brothers. Totally expected.”

 

As soon as he spoke, a car engine roared behind them. Moments later, a sports car pulled up beside them.

 

“Are you two heading to the Jiang residence?”

 

Yang Xinyao leaned in close and whispered, “Destined fate.”

 

Chapter 35

 

Jing Ling froze for a moment—not because of what Yang Xinyao had said, but because of another voice. He turned his head and saw the speaker through the lowered car window. It was a very beautiful girl, about twenty years old, with slightly wavy long hair and delicate, picturesque features. Her fiery red lips gave her a bold and unrestrained air.

 

She wore a black evening gown that highlighted her long, graceful neck, adorned with a delicate diamond necklace. Perhaps because of the cold weather, she wore a matching overcoat outside, covering her fragrant shoulders, with her collarbone faintly visible.

 

Jing Ling suddenly lowered his head. Beside him, Yang Xinyao was taken aback, but quickly recovered and smiled in response, “Yes, are you here for the same thing too?”

 

The girl nodded. “The Jiang family is halfway up the hill. It’s a bit of a walk from here. Would you like a ride?”

 

Yang Xinyao nodded vigorously like a pecking chick. “Thank you so much! Jing Ling, get in the car!” She spoke as she opened the door and climbed in first, then leaned out to call Jing Ling.

 

Without saying a word, Jing Ling got into the car.

 

The car started and headed up the mountain.

 

Being naturally sociable, Yang Xinyao leaned over the seat and asked the girl, “Hello, I’m Yang Xinyao. What’s your name?”

 

Tan Yunshu. “Tan” as in sandalwood, “Yunshu” as in “Who sends the brocade-letter from the clouds?”

The girl hadn’t answered yet, but Jing Ling already knew. Sure enough, in the next moment, he heard the girl say, “Tan Yunshu. ‘Tan’ as in sandalwood, ‘Yunshu’ as in ‘Who sends the brocade-letter from the clouds?’”

 

“Wow!” Yang Xinyao’s almond-shaped eyes widened. “I love that name! Oh, and this handsome guy next to me is called Jing Ling.”

 

“Hello!” Jing Ling greeted succinctly.

 

“Hello!”

 

The car smoothly ascended the winding mountain road, the scenery on both sides retreating quickly. Jing Ling’s thoughts drifted with it.

 

—

 

How does one push a person into despair? Different people require different methods. In distant memories, Jing Ling had experienced it firsthand.

 

From a young age, she had been one of the best among her peers. From first grade through the end of high school, she consistently held the top spot in the entire school. Even during the several statewide exams in her final year, she placed first. Although she suffered a minor incident the day before the college entrance exam and didn’t perform at her best, she still ranked third. After entering university, she naturally became a campus star. From the second semester of freshman year to the first semester of junior year, she passed four exams with theoretical-limit precision, completing all 14 ACCA subjects in one go. Then, in her second semester of junior year, she finished all her credits. In her senior year, she took the postgraduate entrance exam and was admitted to the finance department of Walton University—one of the global top five—with a full scholarship.

 

Many behind her gossiped, claiming her strong background helped. True, she came from a wealthy family. But aside from affording her a comfortable life, her privileged background offered her no assistance.

 

“Can’t you just take it easy on an exam? You always come first and always do better than your brother. Are you trying to get him scolded by your father on purpose?!”

 

“I heard people gossiping again today, saying all the good genes in our family went to you, that’s why your brother can’t compete with you academically. Why did I have you first, I wonder?”

 

“You’re a girl, what’s the point of going through hardship at the grassroots level? Wouldn’t it be better to find a cushy department job, read some news, chat a bit, and hang out with friends after work?”

 

“The capital’s too far. No need to go that far for college.”

 

“What? You want to study abroad for grad school? I forbid it! If you dare go, don’t expect a single cent from this family ever again!”

 

Too many things like that. Even though they lived in the same residential compound, some were pampered and adored like stars, some behaved recklessly and always had someone cleaning up their messes. But she—her very effort wasn’t allowed. It was smothered in the cradle. At the root of it all, simply because she was a girl.

 

Girls, they said, what’s the point of studying so much? Graduate, follow the family’s arrangements, marry into a wealthy family, raise kids, live a quiet life. That wasn’t just her parents’ thinking—it was the mindset of the entire family. The girls in the family were essentially tools for arranged marriages, paving the way for their brothers.

 

She couldn’t control the apathy of others, but she knew she wasn’t willing to accept it! She was obviously better than everyone else—why should she be reduced to a tool?!

 

Her struggle and resistance earned her brief freedom. But afterward, what awaited her was the breaking of her wings, the removal of her fangs, and the plunge into an abyss of despair.

 

“Got wings now and think you can fly, huh? Let me tell you something, Tan Yunshu, the Tan family has plenty of daughters—we don’t need you!”

 

Sitting in a wheelchair, looking at the empty right sleeve, that was the first time she truly understood what despair was.

 

Tan Yunshu had once been her name. Later, after making an agreement with the system and entering a new world for her first mission, her identity had to be randomly generated. The name could be random or original. She chose random. The light screen displayed two characters—Jing Ling. To celebrate her rebirth, she changed her name to Jing Ling from then on.

 

—

 

What is it like to suddenly encounter your former self in a parallel world?

 

In that moment, Jing Ling truly believed Yang Xinyao’s words—destined by fate. 

 

All the thoughts he once had in his most despairing moments had now come true. This was his deal with the system. Though it didn’t go exactly as planned in the end, it still fulfilled his wish.

 

How I wished someone could help me… I didn’t expect them to clear the path for me. As long as I could stay whole, even with nothing, I could rise again by my own hands!

 

This time, you no longer need to beg in such humiliation. I won’t let you go through that darkness and despair again. You can carry your beautiful hopes—whatever you desire, I’ll make it happen. All you have to do is charge ahead, and I’ll clear the way for you.

 

“Jing Ling, what are you zoning out for? We’re here!” Yang Xinyao’s voice pulled him back to reality.

Jing Ling looked up and out the window. In the spacious clearing, luxury cars filled the space, and well-dressed men and women got out and walked toward the villa ahead. “Still not getting out?” Yang Xinyao held the car door, looking at him.

 

“Sorry.” Jing Ling smiled and got out of the car. “Let’s go.” The two girls were both lightly dressed. Even though they wore coats, the northern climate was still colder than the south.

 

The three of them walked from the parking area toward the villa. From afar, they saw a girl in a pink dress step out of the house and look around. When her gaze landed in their direction, her slightly furrowed brows relaxed, and the corners of her lips lifted into a smile. “Jing Ling! Over here!”

 

It was Jiang Sijin. As the trio approached, they saw her pout slightly and whisper to the man beside her, “Sixth Brother, you’re so unreliable! Good thing Jing Ling made it, or I’d never let you off!”

 

The man she called Sixth Brother, though dressed in formalwear, couldn’t conceal the aura of someone from the military. He appeared to be about 185cm tall, with a serious expression, but he obediently apologized in a surprisingly gentle tone. “It’s my fault, Xiao Jin. Don’t be mad.” Yet when he looked at Jing Ling, his gaze was icy, openly threatening.

 

Yang Xinyao glanced at Jing Ling with some surprise, while Tan Yunshu simply lowered her eyes slightly, her expression unchanged.

 

Jing Ling acted as though he hadn’t noticed, smiling as he handed over a gift. 

“Happy birthday, Miss Jiang.”

 

Jiang Sijin took the gift and thanked him, handing it to her Sixth Brother, then turned to Jing Ling and said, “Jing Ling, come with me. Grandpa wants to see you!”

 

“Okay.” He nodded agreeably. He didn’t ask why the powerful head of the Jiang family wanted to see an ordinary citizen—because he already knew the reason. He followed Jiang Sijin into the house, through the main hall, and up to the second floor, arriving at the room at the end of the hallway.

 

Knock knock. “Grandpa, he’s here.”

 

“Come in,” came the old man’s voice from within.

 

“Go ahead. Don’t be scared—Grandpa is a very kind person!” Jiang Sijin whispered reassuringly, then turned and left.

 

He’s only kind to you, Jing Ling thought, but said nothing and pushed the door open.

 

It was a study styled after traditional designs, with rows of bookshelves filled with clearly old volumes. Inside were four people. Seated in the main chair was the old master of the Jiang family. Jing Ling could see a resemblance between him and the two Jiang grandsons he’d met. The other two were of similar age to the old master, seated in relaxed postures, clearly of notable status. By the door stood a guard in military uniform, positioned precisely—neither too obvious nor too hidden, standing in the ideal alert zone.

“Youngster Jing Ling, greetings to the elders,” Jing Ling said with a slight bow in their direction.

 

The old Jiang master nodded, then raised his hand in a gesture. “Yuan Lang, read.”

 

“Yes, sir!” the guard by the door responded crisply, then began reciting in a clear and formal tone, “Jing Ling, born May 21, 1995, in Qingshan Town, Yunling County, Yuncheng, Western Administrative District… In the summer of 2001, an unnamed old man arrived at Lijia Village…”

 

The nearly eighteen-year history of this body was recited from beginning to end. They probably even knew the scores of every exam he’d taken. The only omission was likely the fact that he had taken over this body.

 

“Jing Ling, what is your relationship with that old outsider?” the old master asked. His voice carried natural authority.

 

Jing Ling ignored the invisible pressure and calmly answered, “Grandpa Li is my master.”

 

The gray-robed elder to the left of the old master slapped the armrest angrily. “Nonsense! Among the Song, Yang, Bai, Wang, and Li families, their skills have never been passed on to outsiders!”

 

Jing Ling retorted, “If what you said were true, I wouldn’t be standing here today—would I?”

 

The gray-robed elder choked on his words, seeming to want to say more, but was stopped by someone else. This man, in contrast to the aloof Jiang elder and the aggressive gray-robed elder, was much more amiable. He smiled and said, “Among the five families, the Li family specializes in beast-taming. You say Old Li was your master—how much of his skills have you learned?”

 

Jing Ling answered evenly, “Everything Master taught, I learned.” As for how much he taught—well, that wasn’t for outsiders to know.

 

The gray-robed elder snorted. “Boastful!”

 

At that moment, the old Jiang master spoke again. “Since you say that, we should see just how much of Old Li’s skills you’ve actually inherited. There was some trouble at the border recently—perfect timing for you to go and test yourself.”

 

People used to being above others always spoke even their requests as if they were granting favors.