Flirt First, Run Later [Quick Transmigration] - Chapter 2

The room was utterly silent. Xie Shenxing had kept him up for most of the night, leaving Liang Chu exhausted and irritated. He couldn’t stand the lingering scent of Xie Shenxing all over his body—did the man really think of himself as some wild beast, needing to mark his territory?

Struggling, he leaned against the wall to steady himself and slowly made his way to the bathroom, limping with every step.

Once inside, Liang Chu closed the door and braced himself against the sink, staring at his familiar reflection in the mirror. Before long, a large egg came rustling out from under the cabinet, rolling to a stop at his feet. A thin crack appeared in the middle of the eggshell, and a fluffy, fist-sized head pushed its way out. Soon, four slender claws followed, dragging a disproportionately large rear end as it crawled out completely.

The little creature was covered in black-and-white fur, with snowy white paws that looked like it was wearing two pairs of tiny shoes. Two dark circles framed its eyes, giving it the appearance of a national treasure—a panda—but with some distinct differences. Protruding from its mouth were two enormous front teeth that pressed against its lower lip, making it look more like a rabbit.

This odd little thing was his system.

The origins of this toothy panda-rabbit hybrid were complicated and too long to explain. Back before he crossed into this world, Liang Chu’s relationship with Fu Zesheng had hit rock bottom, with no hope of reconciliation. The hostility between them after their fallout made it hard to believe they had once relied on each other for survival. Liang Chu was no match for him—everything he had, even his name, was given by Fu Zesheng. How could he possibly oppose him? So he left without a word, changed his name, and settled elsewhere. Of course, Fu Zesheng wouldn’t let it go. He wanted to corner Liang Chu until he had no choice but to return.

Those were difficult days. None of his friends or relatives dared to help him, knowing that provoking Fu Zesheng could lead to dire consequences for anyone who stood up for him. It was during that time Liang Chu realized he had underestimated Fu Zesheng. He hadn’t known the extent of the man’s influence, both domestically and internationally, or the sheer power he wielded. Fu Zesheng had ways to ensure no one could escape his grasp.

Then, one day, Liang Chu picked up an egg from the street, intending to have it for breakfast. But instead of a meal, the egg hatched, revealing this panda-like creature—adorable, fragile, and utterly kissable. The little thing climbed up his arm and began sucking on his finger, marking the moment it recognized him as its master. When Liang Chu heard the strange mechanical voice, he didn’t find it absurd at all. He accepted it willingly.

The only regret was not being able to see the expression on Fu Zesheng’s face when he received the news of Liang Chu’s disappearance. It must have been priceless. That man, always so shrewd and calculating, acted as if there was nothing in the world he couldn’t accomplish. Every “kindness” he showed Liang Chu was just a sugar-coated act of manipulation, designed to make him realize he could never truly break free. But this time, Fu Zesheng would never find him. A small victory, perhaps.

Even in his original world, Liang Chu had never been able to resist baby animals. Their soft, whimpering cries could melt anyone’s heart. The most cunning thing about this toothy panda was that it never grew. It remained forever in its infant form, exploiting its cuteness to win affection. But after more than a decade with the little creature, Liang Chu knew better than to judge by appearances. The same went for systems.

He still remembered one time when he asked if Xie Shenxing’s “little brother” was bigger than his. The creature replied, “Well, they’re both yours anyway, so what’s the point of comparing?” Shocked, Liang Chu asked, “What did you say?” It was then he realized that being a “good person” wasn’t as simple as it seemed. If he offered warmth to his mission target, and the target reciprocated with a certain “gift,” he’d have to accept it. Sigh.

At the moment, Bucktooth Bear, sporting two dark circles under its eyes, was squatting on its eggshell, sucking on a milk bottle. “Why didn’t you call me out? Xie Shenxing is gone, isn’t he? I can step on your back for you!” The system required the use of honorifics when addressing the host.

Liang Chu bent down, pulled out the pacifier, and tapped its head. “Why would I call you? You’re no help at all—just here to watch the show. And besides, are you really stepping on my back? You’re just using me as a playground.”

The little bucktooth stood up, climbed back onto its eggshell, and hopped up and down anxiously, trying to reach his hand. Without something to hold in its mouth, it felt utterly uncomfortable. “It’s not the first time, why aren’t you used to it yet? Making a fuss over nothing. Besides, didn’t you bring this on yourself? I thought you liked it.”

Liang Chu snorted through his nose, glaring as he scolded, “Talking big without feeling the pain, huh? Want me to try poking your butt with a toothbrush?”

Bucktooth Bear’s furry face paled in fright. It hugged its belly and hid its rear, protesting, “I’m just a set of data! What use do you think I am? Give me back my stuff, or I’ll glitch out on you!”

Liang Chu hadn’t really expected it to offer any brilliant solutions anyway. He just needed someone to talk to, to ease his anxiety. He rolled the milk bottle against his face, and a rich, milky fragrance wafted into his nose—exactly as delightful as he’d anticipated. He took a deep breath.

A wise man knows when to retreat. Continuing to stubbornly oppose Xie Shenxing would only bring more suffering. He’d always managed to win arguments with his words, but his backside paid the price—hardly a fair trade.

Xie Shenxing was the first target Liang Chu had to win over.

When he first entered this body, Jing Ke was only eight years old and hadn’t yet met Xie Shenxing. At eight, children are at that age where even cats and dogs find them annoying—mischievous and clingy. He was fortunate to be born into the wealthy and influential Jing family, where the family prospered in both wealth and numbers. Jing’s parents, though advanced in age, were still robust and had given birth to Jing Ke when they were already fifty. He was the youngest child in the family, with two older brothers and three older sisters, all of whom were exceptional talents. By the time he was born, his eldest brother and sister were already married, and their children were even crawling.

So, despite having all his material needs met, Jing Ke was still a child with a hard lot in life.

Jing’s parents were old, and with grandchildren already bringing them joy, Jing Ke wasn’t the only child in the family. Though his parents loved him, they could no longer devote much energy to him. One noon, while the family was napping, Jing Ke sneaked out, hopped onto a random bus, and ended up in the wilderness. At that point, whether he was fortunate or unfortunate no longer mattered—his life was cut short. Jing Ke wandered too far and got lost. Under the scorching sun, he wasn’t found until several afternoons later. Dehydrated from exposure and terrified, he simply passed away. When he opened his eyes again, it was a case of mistaken identity—Liang Chu would take Jing Ke’s place and live on.

The Jing family was well-off, so Liang Chu had no worries about food or drink and could idly pass his days. From the start, he became a delicate young master, with older siblings bringing honor to the family and nieces and nephews entertaining his parents. He didn’t need to please anyone. In his youthful naivety, he even thought it was a great deal—a pie falling from the sky. Wasn’t this just sitting back and enjoying life?

When Bucktooth Bear, responsible for guidance and explanations, specifically mentioned, “Considering it’s your first time, we’ll give you one chance to start over,” Liang Chu didn’t appreciate it much. He retorted, “What do you mean? Looking down on me? If I fail, there’s no do-over. Do you think I can’t do it?” Looking back now, he realized how arrogant he had been.

He had thought that since it was his first time, there would naturally be a gradual process from easy to difficult. Who would have guessed it would be all or nothing right from the start, with the first target being so troublesome?

Liang Chu first met Xie Shenxing at the age of nine, on a construction site in the western suburbs of Qiaoxi City.

The harsh winter was fading, leaving only a lingering chill in the air. After being cooped up at home all winter, the children grew restless and clamored to go outside. So, on a mild and sunny morning, the nanny took them out for a spring outing.

Of course, Little Uncle Liang Chu came along as well. The system, Board-Tooth Bear, reminded him that the target character had appeared. Having waited eagerly for nearly half a year, he naturally had to seize the opportunity. As soon as the car pulled over, Liang Chu pushed the door open and jumped out, dashing off in a random direction. Unfortunately, he didn’t get far. The nanny quickly caught up, scooped him up, and asked with a warm smile, “Children, do any of you know any poems about spring?”

Jing Qi, a little girl with long, dark hair who was still in kindergarten, thought for a moment before reciting clearly, “I slept through spring dawn unaware.”

Her older sister, Jing Qin, followed with the next line, “Birds are chirping everywhere.”

Liang Chu felt miserable. This mission was fine in every way except for the fact that acting like a child was utterly torturous. With the demeanor of someone in his twenties, he stiffly recited, “Last night I heard the wind and rain,” and then glanced at his nephew, who was a year older than him.

Jing Wenwu, however, disdained reciting such simple and easy poems. Instead, he passionately recited “Spring Day,” complete with a literal translation, underlying meanings, background context, and analysis of famous lines… Then he smugly looked at Liang Chu—after all, he was only a year younger.

Liang Chu ignored him coldly, leaving Jing Wenwu a little disappointed.

Only after all the children had completed their tasks did the nanny finally let them go.

The construction site where Xie Shenxing was located lay in the western suburbs, not far from where they were. Liang Chu pretended to stroll through the fields while his two nieces brought out their drawing boards, tied on their little aprons, and began to paint. Jing Wenwu, of course, was busy reading and doing homework. This child always prided himself on being the eldest, competitive and fond of bossing others around and he never got along well with Jing Ke.

Before heading out that day, the nanny had asked the children where they wanted to go. Liang Chu immediately said, “Anywhere is fine, just not the western suburbs of Qiaoxi!” Jing Wenwu, ever the contrarian, declared firmly, “But I want to go there! The scenery is beautiful, the spring breeze gently sweeps the land, and all living things are awakening…”

Liang Chu nearly laughed himself silly. He sighed and said, “Alright then, we’ll go with your idea.” Jing Wenwu was instantly delighted. But as they neared their destination, Liang Chu leaned in and whispered, “Actually, I wanted to come here all along. Heh heh.” Realizing he’d been tricked, Jing Wenwu glared at him furiously.

Such bickering was a common occurrence between them. For Jing Wenwu, every argument was worth taking seriously. On the rare occasions he won, he would be overjoyed. After all, his younger uncle was hardly an outstanding “flower of the nation.” Clearly, he himself was smarter, taller, and performed better in school yet Liang Chu always managed to outshine him. While he had to study and solve problems every day, Liang Chu could play as he pleased. It was truly infuriating!

Poor Jing Wenwu had no idea that their roles were fundamentally different. As the youngest child, Liang Chu was destined for a life of ease. All he needed to do was be a carefree loafer. Meanwhile, as the eldest grandson, Jing Wenwu bore responsibilities on his shoulders and was the successor entrusted with great expectations. In the future, that very loafer would depend on him for support.

Jing Wenwu glanced at Liang Chu, curious about what he would do next. To his surprise, he saw Liang Chu wandering farther and farther away, peering around like a mouse emerging from its hole. Seeing that no one was paying attention, Liang Chu broke into a sprint, his short legs carrying him swiftly into the distance.

Spring was gradually deepening, with clouds billowing and rosy clouds glowing, accompanied by a refreshing breeze. Liang Chu strolled into the construction site and immediately spotted his target.

The reason for such smooth identification wasn’t because he was particularly charming or dashing. In fact, he appeared dusty and unremarkable. It was simply because the site was almost entirely populated by adults, while the target was a dark, skinny teenager who stood noticeably shorter than the rest. Like a little chick mixed in among a flock of roosters, he stood out conspicuously.

Liang Chu hugged the wall, watching him from a distance.

The young Xie Shenxing bore none of the imposing demeanor he would later possess, nor had he yet revealed any of his flaws. If Liang Chu had known back then that beneath his decent appearance lay a dark-hearted nature, he would never have considered bringing him home. It would have been like inviting a wolf into the house. He would have fled long ago.

At that age, Xie Shenxing was, at most, difficult to approach, keeping both strangers and acquaintances at a distance. He was dark, thin, and disheveled, his face caked with a mixture of dust and sweat, looking utterly grimy. Despite being three years older than Jing Ke, he was still shorter, his frail frame a testament to malnutrition.

In the early spring, which still carried a hint of winter’s chill, aerial work platforms shuttled back and forth, hoisting concrete blocks and construction materials. Xie Shenxing wore only an oversized tank top, several sizes too big for him, and followed a group of workers beneath a towering crane, hauling bags of cement. At twelve years old, the boy was gaunt and sallow, clearly malnourished, yet he somehow mustered the strength to carry a hundred-pound bag of cement on his shoulder, walking steadily forward as if accustomed to such labor.

Liang Chu, dressed in a snow-white padded jacket complete with a soft hood and scarf, looked every bit the pampered young master raised in a greenhouse utterly out of place in his surroundings. With a troubled expression on his delicate features, he secretly observed Xie Shenxing.

He was pondering how to strike up a conversation with Xie Shenxing without revealing his intentions, all while maintaining the persona of a frivolous rich kid and successfully luring him home.

Long before coming to see him, Liang Chu had done his homework thoroughly, familiarizing himself with every detail of Xie Shenxing’s life story.

Over a decade ago, in Xianghe Village, a poor couple who had been unable to conceive tried every method without success. Desperate for someone to care for them in their old age, they eventually turned to an acquaintance and purchased Xie Shenxing. At the time, the child was just two months old—fair-skinned, adorable, with long, curly eyelashes framing a pair of eyes like black gemstones. Surprisingly, such a beautiful child came cheap, almost given away for a mere hundred yuan.

By the time Xie Shenxing turned eleven, the couple unexpectedly found their wish fulfilled—the wife became pregnant. After bribing an acquaintance for an ultrasound, they learned it was a boy. Xie Shenxing suddenly became an awkward and superfluous presence. How could a foster child compare to even the littlest toe of their own flesh and blood? The couple began to nitpick and find fault with him constantly. Despite their poverty, which left them struggling to put food on the table, they worried that their foster son might one day compete with their biological son for inheritance. Liang Chu found this both laughable and exasperating—what inheritance were they talking about? That broken pot they couldn’t even afford to lift the lid off?

After several days of anxiety, the couple discussed the matter and agreed that raising Xie Shenxing to this age was an act of great benevolence. They didn’t expect gratitude from him. They only wanted him gone, far away, so he wouldn’t become a lingering burden. Thus, the foster father pocketed two hundred yuan and embarked on a long journey to abandon the boy. The travel expenses alone cost more than what they had paid for him, and they chose such a distant location precisely because they feared he might find his way back.

Unexpectedly, halfway through the journey, Xie Shenxing disappeared.