Having Played the Villain for Ten Years, I Came Back - Chapter 12

In the dream, Wen Linyu felt as though someone was watching him. He scanned his surroundings warily, but no figure appeared.

Since it was just a dream, he didn’t dwell on it and continued to swim in the river with carefree abandon.

On the other side of the void, 998 watched in confusion as Gu Chi returned in a rush. It had only been a minute. It recalled telling the Demon Lord specifically that the “video call” could last for five.

Why was he back so soon?

998’s beady eyes flickered with the light of gossip. It was dying to know what had happened in that single minute to make the Great Demon Lord’s expression even more bizarre than before.

The way he was looking at the System was also. strange.

Wait, what does this have to do with me?

Perhaps sensing the gossip brewing in those beady eyes, Gu Chi didn’t strike the chick this time. He was simply more perplexed: If it wasn’t the bird’s doing, what exactly happened to me just now?

Seeing that it wouldn’t be hit, 998 regained its confidence and tried every trick in the book to fish for information, but this time, Gu Chi remained silent.

Yesterday, he could still be easily fooled, but today, it seemed the Demon Lord’s missing brain cells had returned.

He might not have been clear on the situation the first time, but after a second occurrence, he began to realize that the problem most likely lay within himself.

A weakness—how could he easily expose it to others?

However, 998 still had its uses. Thus, Wen Linyu’s “livestream” remained open.

As he watched, Gu Chi finally processed the scene, casting a dangerous glare at the System, which was watching right alongside him.

998 was remarkably self-aware this time. It slapped its chest grandly. “Rest assured! I’ve borrowed enough energy; you can even head over there today!”

Hmph! 998 thought. It would have its final settlement tomorrow. Once the debt was paid, it would go off to enjoy its freedom. The Demon Lord could go ahead and court death—he wouldn’t be able to blame the System anymore! Hahaha!

The next morning, Wen Linyu woke up early.

Since it was still very early, he didn’t head to school immediately. Instead, he sat by the window and drew the river and flowers from last night’s dream, along with the silhouette he had dreamed of the night before.

The figure had no clear facial features, but it didn’t matter. He knew who it was.

Once finished, Wen Linyu carefully stored the sketchbook, locking it inside a box protected by multiple layers of charms. He decided that whenever he encountered something beautiful, delicious, or fun, he would record it—either in words or drawings in that book.

Though he knew there was no possibility of meeting again, what was wrong with holding onto a tiny sliver of fantasy?

At breakfast, it was once again just Wen Linyu and Wen Cheng. Wen Cheng mentioned that he would be going to school a bit late today, adding that Wen Xi was coming home soon.

Going to school late meant he was heading to the hospital first to visit Wen Hongbo and his wife. As for Wen Xi—she was Wen Linyu’s younger sister.

The relationship between Wen Xi and Wen Linyu was naturally strained. Or rather, a more accurate description would be “unfamiliar.” They were practically strangers.

Wen Xi was exceptionally talented, possessing a high level of artistic genius. She was a prodigy in music and dance, winning national championships from a very young age. Now that she was older, she spent most of her time participating in prestigious international competitions.

She was busy so busy she had no time to come home, let alone build a relationship with a brother who had suddenly appeared out of nowhere.

Whether she returned or not made little difference to Wen Linyu. He assumed she was only coming back because she heard their father had been hospitalized.

Without Wen Cheng, Wen Linyu took the family’s luxury car to school alone.

The incident where Wu Shujie was beaten had blown over. Over the last two days, his classmates realized that Wen Linyu wasn’t prone to sudden outbursts. Aside from being much more noticeable than before, he wasn’t that different—he still kept to himself and didn’t bother anyone.

Consequently, his desk mate was no longer afraid of him.

As soon as he sat down, his desk mate was already gossiping with the two students in the row in front of them about school secrets.

“Have you heard? Someone got into trouble playing a game!”

“What kind of game?”

“Tsk tsk, the ‘Saucer Fairy’ (Ouija-style game)! They played at midnight—four people total and now three of them are down.”

“No way. Are they dead?”

“Not dead, but they’re all in the hospital.”

“Talk about a death wish!”

The group huddled together, whispering about the secret scandal. As Wen Linyu sat down, he accidentally overheard a portion of it.

Initially, no one was supposed to know, but one of the four had posted a cry for help on the school forum. Once inquisitive students started digging, the story spread like wildfire.

“The only one who isn’t down yet is begging everyone for help. He said he’ll pay ten million to whoever can save his life!”

His desk mate spoke with great enthusiasm, and a small crowd gradually gathered to piece together the details of the event. Wen Linyu listened to the end, but the only thing that stuck in his mind was the “ten million reward.”

Perhaps he could join the fun? Not for any other reason, but to absorb a little more “wealth luck” for himself.

No sooner said than done.

Wen Linyu pulled out his phone and browsed the school forum. On the front page, in addition to the incident his desk mate mentioned, he unexpectedly found photos of himself.

He initially thought it was about the Monday incident, but a quick scan revealed that the discussion was entirely focused on his change in appearance.

Wen Linyu: “…”

It wasn’t what he expected, but it didn’t matter.

He clicked into the help thread and scanned it quickly. Following the instructions in the post, he added the original poster’s contact information. Perhaps many people had been adding the OP lately, as the request wasn’t accepted immediately. Wen Linyu set it aside for the moment.

After the first class ended, Wen Linyu glanced out the window. It was raining.

It had been two days. By his count, his “dear parents” would likely make their move tonight, right?

He hadn’t hidden the fact that he took their hair; they were likely searching for ways to deal with him. He was actually a bit curious to see what methods they would employ.

Watching the rain drip from the eaves in steady strings, Linyu’s eyes lit up. Wait, I can go back and set up a Backlash Array! Anyone who entered the array with the intention of harming him would end up suffering whatever fate they planned for him.

This array was a specific lesson from his teacher.

“You’re too soft-hearted. You only know how to defend, never how to strike first. How can you always be so passive?”

“What? You can’t find a reason to strike them because they haven’t done anything to you yet?”

“I’ve really had it with you! Then learn this. If you can’t even master this, don’t you dare call me Teacher again!”

That final threat had made Wen Linyu very nervous, so he had learned it well—exceptionally well. He had even improved the array; it didn’t just backfire on the people entering it, but also affected the person who ordered them to enter in the first place.

After all, the person who directly approached him might not be the one who truly wanted him harmed; they might just be following orders or fulfilling a contract. If they were the only ones hurt, it wouldn’t cause direct damage to the mastermind behind the scenes. So, Wen Linyu had made a few tweaks.

When his teacher saw the results, he had given his approval. Linyu had been quietly happy about that for a long time.

Ever since he came back, he had grown lax. He couldn’t believe he was only thinking of it now.

Once the day’s classes were over, Wen Linyu checked his phone and found that the poster still hadn’t accepted his friend request. Forget it, he thought. Maybe it was just a joke that got blown out of proportion.

He didn’t dwell on it, but on the way home, he discovered someone sleeping in a ditch.

The Wen family villa wasn’t in the city center; the residential area occupied an entire mountain, with the Wens owning the summit. The complex was near the outskirts, and the person in the ditch was lying in the roadside drainage channel.

There was water in the channel it wasn’t deep—but if the person continued lying in that position, they would drown within three minutes.

Wen Linyu initially planned to ignore it, but after the car had traveled a short distance, he ultimately knit his brows and told the driver to turn back.

If Teacher were here, he’d probably scold me again.

And indeed, seeing Wen Linyu actually stopping to “pick up” a stranger, Gu Chi’s brows furrowed immediately. How can this disciple never learn? This useless kindness!

No, I have to go over there. He felt that without him, his disciple would eventually revert to his original self one day.

Once the decision was made, Gu Chi felt a wave of relief. He was a man of action; he immediately shut down the Wen Linyu “livestream” and began making preparations.

First, he packed everything that caught his eye into his spatial bag. Then, he summoned his butler to give some brief instructions. Finally, after a moment’s thought, he packed several types of food that didn’t exist in Wen Linyu’s world.

With everything ready, Gu Chi spoke to the System: “Fine. I’m going over.”

The butler stood at a distance, bowing him out. His eyes were moist but filled with confusion: Who is the Master going to see? He’s so impatient and energized. I haven’t seen him this excited in many, many years.

Support Having Played the Villain for Ten Years, I Came Back