Flirt First, Run Later [Quick Transmigration] - Chapter 3

The adoptive father rushed home in a panic. A day passed, then a month, and fortunately, the adopted son never returned.

Xie Shenxing, mature and worldly beyond his years, had long anticipated that this departure from home would be a one-way trip. How could Xie Shenxing allow himself to become a burden? So, he chose to leave voluntarily. He settled down where he was and found work to make a living. Liang Chu couldn’t help but wonder what Xie Shenxing had been thinking back then—what must it have felt like for someone who knew they were about to be abandoned to step out of the car on their own and watch it drive away? Only he himself could truly know.

But for someone so young to possess such resilience and manage to establish himself in an unfamiliar city, avoiding the fate of begging on the streets, Liang Chu genuinely admired him. However, his days of turning his life around were still far off; he would have to endure hardship for a few more years, especially since he hadn’t yet encountered the spoiled brat—Liang Chu himself—who would torment him. Liang Chu felt a pang of sympathy for him.

Yet, Xie Shenxing’s misfortune was a tremendous stroke of luck for Liang Chu. Xie Shenxing could be adopted by the Jing family. The Jings had no shortage of resources, and no one would care about the fate of an orphan. With Xie Shenxing by his side, Liang Chu could carry out his mission with ease, killing two birds with one stone. After all, the Jing family wouldn’t allow him to visit the construction site to see Xie Shenxing every day, and Bucktooth Bear wouldn’t permit it either. It would seem too deliberate and risk breaking character.

When Liang Chu first arrived in this world, he looked down upon Jing Ke’s arrogant and domineering behavior. Jing Ke was only eight years old, while Liang Chu was an adult. He believed Jing Ke had too many flaws that needed correcting. A young sapling growing crooked, with unruly branches that, if not pruned, would eventually lead to trouble. So he decided to skip grades, leaping all the way to university to become a prodigy, astounding the world and bringing glory to the nation! Who wouldn’t admire someone outstanding and exceptional? Surely, even his mission target would be no exception.

But Bucktooth Bear poured cold water on his plans, saying, “Don’t dream too big. Jing Ke isn’t that smart, and his personality is already largely set.” It then provided two key personality traits extracted from Jing Ke, explaining that everyone has a predetermined life path, and Jing Ke was no exception. Since Liang Chu was now wearing Jing Ke’s skin, he had to follow these traits to develop the plot and character. Even if it wasn’t a perfect match, it had to be close enough. He couldn’t let anyone see through the disguise at a glance.

Spoiled brat, bullying others—Jing Ke was naturally the one doing the bullying. Liang Chu felt disheartened. The personality derived from these two keywords was destined to be unlikable: lacking basic empathy, self-centered, struggling to understand others, seldom considering their perspectives, and never bothering to care about their feelings.

How could such an unappealing, troublesome child win over the reclusive and aloof Xie Shenxing? He would only make things worse.

But that wasn’t his main concern at the moment. The current challenge was how to play the role of Jing Ke convincingly.

Liang Chu pondered the psychology of the young Jing Ke and half-heartedly embraced the role of a problem child. Surprisingly, he excelled at it. The Jing family never realized that Jing Ke had been replaced, as evidenced by Jing Wenwu’s growing irritation. The man glared at him with flaring nostrils and seemed increasingly tempted to hit him each day. All of this was thanks to Liang Chu’s own spoiled childhood, which had been far more troublesome than Jing Ke’s.

Liang Chu had entered middle school. On his way home, he tripped over a stone, but instead of blaming himself for not watching his steps, he blamed the stone for being in his way—how inconsiderate of it not to move aside when it saw him coming. That was just how unreasonable he could be. He once built a birdhouse on a whim, and when the birds refused to nest in his crooked little structure, he was deeply offended. He spent days lurking under the old banyan tree, hoping to steal a couple of eggs to hatch himself. After all, even a bird might feel lonely—two would be better company. He had his own peculiar logic.

No one at home could control him. When they bought him a more beautiful oriole, he shook his head in refusal. Even if someone took the bird away, he would just run back to the tree. In the end, Fu Zesheng had to step in, hauling him back home and sending someone up the tree to relocate the birds.

Then there was the winter when he got the idea to build a luxurious shelter for stray cats and dogs. It came equipped with heating, electric blankets, soft bedding, cat trees, and even a humidifier to combat dry air. Meals were delivered three times a day.

At first, no guests showed up. Once again, it was Fu Zesheng who stepped in, forcibly placing the uncooperative cats and dogs into the shelter. A perfect blend of dominance and indulgence. With a guardian like that, what child wouldn’t grow up spoiled?

“One cannot mature without experiencing hardship; one remains naive without facing the world.” Liang Chu was a living example of this. Though long past adulthood, he still carried a childlike innocence and naivety rarely seen in his peers. Fu Zesheng, on the other hand, was his complete opposite—mature and steady beyond his years, as if he had absorbed all the wisdom Liang Chu lacked.

His little guests eventually grew comfortable in their new home. They meowed and barked, calling their friends and relatives from across the city. To this day, every autumn and winter, half the stray cats and dogs in the city gather at that same spot. Pregnant mothers, in particular, claim the warmest and softest bedding in quiet, safe corners, preparing for the arrival of their newborns. Even among animals, there exists a virtue of respecting the old and cherishing the young. On sunny days, tiny, fluffy bundles no bigger than a palm chase and play under the warmest rays of sunlight, while elderly ones lie lazily on their sides, watching with plump contentment. The young and the old together create a scene reminiscent of life’s endless cycle.

If Liang Chu were to step outside now, dozens of tail-wagging dogs and cats would follow him like a loyal army. Thankfully, the Xiangjun Fu family was wealthy enough to support this ever-growing entourage of furry dependents.

But they were different. Liang Chu’s privilege was innate; he received affection without ever having to earn it.

At noon, with the sun warm and hazy, Liang Chu pulled himself out of his thoughts and sighed. He tiptoed closer, peeking in Xie Shenxing’s direction, wondering how he could both play the part of an insufferable, entitled brat and still manage to bring Xie Shenxing home. But Xie Shenxing wasn’t a dog who’d follow him for a bone. Did that mean he had to sacrifice himself and stage an accident?

After pondering for a while, Liang Chu concluded, “I might as well just beat him up.”

The hamster hiding in his warm hat crawled out to join the act: “And then say you mistook him for someone else?”

“Of course not. I’ll say I just didn’t like the look of him—I’m beating him up precisely because it’s him.”

The hamster fell silent for a moment. “Are you just looking for a fight?”

“Exactly,” Liang Chu said. “Then today’s mission is accomplished. I hit him, and he’ll definitely hit back. But me hitting you means I think you’re worth my time—how dare a poor laborer like you fight back? Do you have a death wish? If I get so much as a scratch, I’ll make sure he pays for it. He’ll have to take responsibility. Then I’ll go get a check-up and make him foot the bill. If he can’t pay, he’ll have to work for me.”

Once you step through my door, don’t even think about coming out again.

Bucktooth Bear said, “Good idea! Give me a cookie and you go ahead!”

Xie Shenxing returned from a distance after unloading the lime mortar. Liang Chu broke off a corner of a cookie for Bucktooth Bear and stuffed the rest into his mouth. It was a condensed milk cookie, rich with a milky flavor. While waiting, where should he strike? Hitting the head or the stomach was definitely not an option—it could easily injure someone. How about punching the shoulder or hitting the back?

Xie Shenxing approached step by step. Liang Chu stared intently at him, squatting on the ground and slowly shifting in his direction. When their paths converged, Xie Shenxing passed by him, and Liang Chu swiftly jumped up, delivering a hard kick to his butt. There was plenty of flesh there, so it wouldn’t hurt much.

The kick was quite forceful, and Liang Chu, unable to pull back in time, stumbled two steps backward, shaking a few cookies loose in the process. His leg hadn’t been raised high enough, as if he’d kicked at an angle, possibly hitting bone, and his toes throbbed faintly from the impact.

The one doing the kicking was in pain, but the one being kicked showed no reaction. Xie Shenxing’s feet seemed nailed to the ground, unmoving. He paused, looking down at him.

Liang Chu thought to himself, Hit me, why don’t you? While preparing to flee at any moment, he fiercely blamed the other: “You made my foot hurt!”

Liang Chu met his gaze. The teenager was thin and dirty, but from this close, he could clearly see Xie Shenxing’s exceptionally striking features.

It was a face one wouldn’t easily forget. His forehead was full, his cheekbones flat and sharp, his eye sockets deep, and his nose bridge high and straight. His sharply chiseled, almost sculpted face made him seem somewhat unapproachable and not particularly kind.

In reality, he was indeed very aloof. Xie Shenxing merely glanced at him, disdaining to engage in his nonsense, and strode away without another word.

Bucktooth Bear, perched on his shoulder, exclaimed, “Ah! He didn’t take the bait! What do we do now?”

Liang Chu was also taken aback for a moment before saying, “Leave it to me.” Then he scurried after him, spreading his legs to block the teenager’s path, and commanded arrogantly, “Hey, my foot hurts. You must have damaged it. Hurry up and compensate.”

Xie Shenxing paid no attention, quickly walking past him. This time, he didn’t even spare him a glance.

Having been cold-shouldered again, Liang Chu stood there in a daze for a while before remembering to give chase. But this time, even running after him proved futile. Although the other was shorter than him, chasing was truly exhausting, and he was soon left far behind. Fuming, he yelled, “Are you deaf? I said my foot hurts!”

Liang Chu was incredulous. “Is he some kind of rocket-powered sprinter?”

Bucktooth Bear poked its little head out to look at the cookies in his hand. “Maybe he’s taller than you.”

“Nonsense! Didn’t you see earlier? I’m half a finger taller than him.” Liang Chu gestured with his index finger.

Bucktooth Bear comforted him, “Maybe Xie Shenxing is a bit shorter than you, but his legs are longer.”

Liang Chu grew even more frustrated and said resentfully, “Your legs are the short ones! My legs are plenty long.”

Bucktooth Bear reached out a paw, grabbing at his hat. “Give me another cookie. With those long legs of yours, hurry up and keep chasing.”

Liang Chu didn’t chase. Instead, he squatted on the ground and munched on cookies with Bucktooth Bear. He wasn’t in a hurry. After all, he’d found the person. Xie Shenxing made another trip to move lime mortar, and Liang Chu’s eyes followed him, looking as if he held a grudge. When lunchtime arrived, the workers gradually dispersed. Xie Shenxing went to a makeshift shed to get his meal. After receiving his food, he seemed ready to head home, walking very quickly. He reached a dilapidated bridge not far from the construction site and ducked inside.

Liang Chu finally stood up, stamped his numb feet, and followed with a face that clearly said, “I’m looking for trouble.” After just a few steps, he noticed someone standing nearby, unsure how long they had been there.

Liang Chu scrutinized the person and frowned, asking, “What are you doing here?”

When Jing Wenwu caught up with Liang Chu, his little uncle was pestering someone. Ignored, he pouted and crouched on the ground, eating while glaring at the person. After finishing his food, he stood up, wiped his mouth, and headed in the direction the other had left—clearly intending to settle the score now that he was full.

Jing Wenwu had initially planned to sneak along and watch the drama, but he was quickly spotted. So, he strode over openly and said, “I came to call you for dinner.”

Liang Chu nodded without even looking at him. “I’ll be there soon. Save some for me.” Then he waved goodbye.

Jing Wenwu lingered, glancing at Liang Chu’s feet. “Aren’t your feet hurting? Call me ‘brother,’ and I’ll check them for you.”

It seemed his nephew had been here for a while. Liang Chu replied, “Are you stupid? If I call you brother, what would you call your dad?”

Jing Wenwu’s eyes sparkled with a sly idea. “You can call me that secretly. No one will know.”

Liang Chu studied him for a moment before refusing. “Even if you cried and begged to check, I wouldn’t need you. I’ll let him do it, not you. No arguments.”

Jing Wenwu straightened up, putting on the airs of being one year older, and grabbed his arm. “Do you even know that guy? You’re perfectly fine. I won’t let you go—it’s too embarrassing!”

Liang Chu scoffed, “Wow, someone’s got a big mouth.” He brushed off Jing Wenwu’s hand and kept walking. “What’s it to you if I embarrass myself? Don’t bother me; I’m busy.”

Jing Wenwu trailed closely behind, defiantly retorting, “I’m bothering you anyway!”

Liang Chu chuckled and beckoned him. “Well then, hurry up and follow me.”

As Liang Chu walked ahead, Jing Wenwu indeed stopped in his tracks—he wasn’t about to obey. Liang Chu paid him no mind until he left the construction site and heard footsteps again. Glancing back, he saw Jing Wenwu running toward him. Liang Chu reminded him, “I didn’t ask you to follow me. You insisted on coming.” I was planning to sacrifice myself, but since you’re forcing your way in, you can be the sacrifice.

Jing Wenwu snorted, “This road isn’t yours. I’m not following you.”

But Liang Chu had no time to argue further. From a distance earlier, he had only vaguely seen Xie Shenxing heading under a bridge. It wasn’t until he left the site that he realized there was quite a distance between the construction area and the abandoned bridge, filled with waist-high weeds.

Though spring had begun and the weather was warming, the thick ice on the small river hadn’t melted yet, a testament to how cold it still was. Xie Shenxing must have lived here for a long time, traversing the path so often that he had worn a narrow trail through the dried grass.

Liang Chu walked slowly toward the bridge. A teenager in his teens, with no relatives or home in this city, naturally had nowhere to go. Having a warm place to live and decent clothes would be a rarity for him.

Following the path to the abandoned bridge, Liang Chu leaned against a tree on the riverbank and peered down. The bridge had four arch-shaped openings—two large and two small, with the smaller ones nestled inside and the larger ones facing outward. Xie Shenxing lived in one of the larger outer arches. The path down to the arch was steep and slippery, but Xie Shenxing had scattered small stones to create a narrow, stable walkway.

“You’re not going down there, are you?” Jing Wenwu whispered, eyeing the bridge arch apprehensively.

The child’s curiosity was boundless. Here, the sky stretched high and the land lay vast, surrounded by withered grass and desolate woods, with shadows of trees looming and an atmosphere of quiet desolation. There were hardly any people around, which filled him with a thrilling sense of adventure.

Jing Wenwu’s eyes darted around nervously as he asked with concern, “Do you think that person is a ghost?”

Liang Chu replied firmly, “Yes!”

Jing Wenwu was taken aback for a moment and said, “You’re lying, aren’t you? Ghosts are afraid of sunlight and don’t dare come out during the day.”

Liang Chu retorted with a serious expression, “Who said that? Fierce ghosts aren’t afraid of sunlight. Fierce ghosts are the most powerful kind. If you don’t listen to me in the future, I’ll have one eat you.”

Jing Wenwu was startled, his face clearly showing how mean he thought Liang Chu was.

Liang Chu snickered quietly, patted his shoulder, then turned and steadied himself against a small tree by the riverbank. He took a few tentative steps. The stones on the path were deeply embedded in the ground, with only small portions exposed, making them safe and slip-resistant.

Jing Wenwu watched wide-eyed as Liang Chu tested the path with a couple of steps and then actually made his way under the dark bridge arch. The entrance was a bit high, and his little uncle was bending over, moving stones to step on as he grabbed the upper edge and climbed up.

Only then did Jing Wenwu react and hurried after him in small steps.

Liang Chu looked up at the bridge arch. It was suspended in mid-air, over a dozen centimeters taller than him. Even standing on the stones, he could barely reach the edge. He couldn’t figure out how Xie Shenxing, who was even shorter than him, had managed to climb up.

Just then, Jing Wenwu scurried over and seized the opportunity to bargain, “If you call me ‘big brother,’ I’ll help you up.”

…This kid really had a talent for business.

Liang Chu, who had no idea what the word “pride” meant, said, “Alright then, big brother.”

Jing Wenwu grinned from ear to ear, straightened his back proudly, and crouched down to serve as a stepping stool.

Xie Shenxing had already claimed his lunch and was sitting against the wall, closing his eyes and letting out a long sigh. Young and quiet by nature, he naturally didn’t fit in with the others and spent his days alone.

But it didn’t matter much. The construction site had work hours exceeding 11 hours a day, with an overwhelming workload that left everyone barely able to cope. No one gave him extra consideration because of his age. On the contrary, since he wasn’t a formal worker, he often had to put in more effort than others. The immense pressure of survival left him no time to dwell on or grow accustomed to loneliness.

Suddenly, childish voices came from outside. Distracted, Xie Shenxing looked over and saw a packet of biscuits tossed up first, followed by the unruly little kid revealing half his head, arms gripping the edge of the opening as he struggled. He was standing on something below, directing the person underneath to lift him higher so he could climb up, clumsily getting covered in dirt in the process.

After climbing up and resting for a moment, his little companion below called out repeatedly, “Me too, me too! Pull big brother up!”

So, the little kid slowly lowered one leg. The person below paused for a few seconds before grabbing onto his leg and climbing up.