After The Web Novel Great God Transmigrated As A Scummy Online Dating Top - Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Every city has a region that resembles a scar of time—an area where the past and present collide in a messy, nostalgic tangle. For Lin Muxue and her uncle, that scar was the old district of W City.

Commonly referred to as a “village within a city,” it was a patchwork of irregular dwellings: self-built brick houses, ancient courtyards, and boxy bungalows, all connected by a labyrinth of winding alleys.

As a child, Lin Muxue loved running through these narrow paths to her grandmother’s house. But after her grandparents passed away, her mother—who had always looked down on her “unreliable” younger brother—stopped visiting. Lin Muxue’s visits became rarer, until the age of sixteen, when the courtyard became her entire world.

…

Pagoda Tree Road

The road was named after a massive, centuries-old pagoda tree standing at the center of a large traffic circle. When Lin Muxue’s bus passed the circle, she could see the last of the white blossoms hanging like clusters of tiny bells.

The older a place is, the slower time seems to flow. Ten years hadn’t changed much here. As the familiar scenery rolled by, the tension in Lin Muxue’s shoulders finally began to dissolve.

She got off the bus, turned into Ganshui Alley, and walked to the very end. Before her stood a spacious courtyard. The walls were made of red brick topped with jagged glass shards for security, and the entrance was guarded by two peeling red iron doors secured with a heavy, old-fashioned “General” lock. A peach tree leaned over the wall, its pink fruit tempting passersby.

She noticed the electric scooter was missing from the makeshift shed outside. Her uncle was out.

Using a brass key she fished out from behind a loose brick, she unlocked the gate. Inside, the yard was a riot of “self-reliant” flowers: evening primroses and eustomas in yellow and purple on the left, and trumpet-like garlic flowers in vivid magenta on the right.

Her uncle, Zhong Cuili, didn’t care much for his own appearance, but he doted on this garden. He couldn’t keep delicate plants alive, so the yard was filled with hardy survivors. It looked almost exactly like the courtyard in her original world, a fact that made Lin Muxue feel a strange sense of peace.

She walked to the osmanthus tree at the center of the yard, tucked her shirt into her waistband, and stood on her tiptoes to pluck a large, ripe peach. She washed it under the outdoor tap and bit into it—crisp and sweet, just the way she liked.

…

The “Daughter’s Room”

The buildings were arranged in an inverted “L” shape. To the south were the main rooms, and to the right was a separate wing with an outer room, an inner bedroom, and a private bath. This was the “boudoir” of the Zhong family—once her mother’s, and now hers.

The room was sparsely furnished and lacked the “lived-in” feel of a permanent resident, but it was clean and free of dust, suggesting her uncle tidied it often.

Lin Muxue sat on a traditional wooden armchair by the desk, staring at the bare bedframe and the enamel-shaded lightbulb hanging from the ceiling. Finally, the “what-ifs” caught up to her. Why did I swap places with my parallel self? Can I go back? Does my original uncle realize I’m gone, or is he looking at ‘Lin Muxue No. 2’ right now?

She shook her head. Thinking about the inexplicable was a waste of energy.

…

New Goals, Old Tools

She opened her suitcase and began setting up the recording equipment she found in her predecessor’s stash.

“Lin Muxue No. 2” had been a Voice Acting major. Gifted with a superior voice but cursed with a difficult personality and a lack of professionalism, she had remained a “nobody” in the online voice-acting CV circle for four years. She had entered the scene expecting to be a queen, but had ended up an “old transparent” a veteran who no one notices.

Lin Muxue wasn’t interested in fame, but she was curious about the craft. After setting up the equipment, she turned to her laptop—covered in gaudy stickers—and opened a blank document.

In her original world, she was a successful web novelist and screenwriter. She had saved enough money to fund her uncle’s directorial debut as a gift for his 46th birthday.

Now, she had to start over.

She wouldn’t spend time mourning what she lost. She would simply absorb the lessons of this new life and begin drafting a new script. Her goal remained the same: to get the funding and the story ready so her uncle could finally realize his dream of making a movie.