I Am the Gloomy Male Lead's Dead First Love - Chapter 1

Lu Xincheng lay on the bed.

It was strange; he was clearly awake, yet he could not open his eyes. This sensation, much like sleep paralysis, made him incredibly uncomfortable. He struggled to move his body, but it felt like an unresponsive slab of steel.

I must still be dreaming, Lu Xincheng thought.

Suddenly, a dense, stinging pain radiated rapidly from his chest, as if someone were pricking him with needles. Simultaneously, a woman’s calm voice drifted into his ears.

“When you finish the stitching, make sure to tie the knots carefully. Do a final check to ensure no needles are left on the client.”

Three interns gathered around the operating table, their heads bowed as they scribbled notes.

There was a massive gash over the corpse’s heart. The woman held a steel needle, guiding a black silk thread through the skin. She handled it with the ease of someone working on a cross-stitch. As she finished with a brisk final stitch, the cross-shaped suture on the pale, flawless skin did not look horrific; instead, it possessed a sort of macabre beauty.

“What about the face? Does he not need makeup?”

The woman in the white coat had her black hair swept up in a claw clip and wore a pair of glasses on the bridge of her nose. She frowned slightly, glancing at the young intern who had asked the question. “We are mortuary beauticians. The family of the deceased needs their final dignity.”

The young female intern shrugged. “If I die, I would want to be wearing makeup. Makeup is my final dignity.”

“Then again, someone who looks like this does not really need it,” another intern added, gazing dreamily at the corpse.

The body on the table appeared to be in its early twenties, possessing a young face and physique. His facial proportions were exceptionally superior, and under the overhead lights, his skin looked exquisite and flawless. His expression was peaceful, as if he were merely in a deep sleep.

“This is my first time seeing a dead person. I thought it would be terrifying.”

The woman in the white coat ignored the interns’ commentary. She silently pulled the white sheet over the corpse’s head. In the moment it covered him, perhaps it was an illusion, she saw the corpse’s eyelashes flutter.

The two female interns continued to lament, “This guy is so handsome. It is such a shame he is so young.”

“Yes, if he looks this good dead, imagine how he was when he was alive.”

The interns, two women and one man, were all fresh graduates. Anyone brave enough to apply for this job was naturally bold, and they had actually started chatting away in the mortuary.

“Alright, you can leave now. Practical training will be arranged for you later.” Meng Yili swept a cold gaze across the interns’ faces. “Do you have any more questions?”

The three fell silent instantly; the woman’s sharp gaze sent chills down their spines.

Once everyone had left, Meng Yili skillfully peeled off her rubber gloves and removed her white coat. She walked slowly to the side of the operating table, staring down at the white sheet.

“But Lu Xincheng, do you even have any family left?” she whispered, her voice very low.

Under the sheet, Lu Xincheng heard her clearly.

“Did you know? No one cares that you are dead. Not even Wen Yaozhi. He did not even bother to come see you one last time.”

Wen Yaozhi.

Lu Xincheng flinched at the name. He remembered the production crew he had just joined; the male lead he was set to play shared that exact name. This S-tier web series was adapted from the top-tier male-frequency IP, The Ghost Hunter’s Apocalypse. Lu Xincheng had just finished reading the original novel a few days ago and was currently in the middle of script readings.

The director was a prestigious film director making his debut in web series. The script readings had gone on for two days and two nights, leaving Lu Xincheng’s head so full of that name that he even dreamed about it.

In fact, he had read Ghost Hunter back when it was being serialized. His assistant had shown it to him because there was a “cannon fodder” side character with the same name, Lu Xincheng. He was the protagonist’s best friend but was killed off shortly after the main plot began.

At the time, he had not thought much of it, even jokingly quipping, “What is that saying again? Same name, same surname, destined to transmigrate.” He forgot about it the moment the words left his mouth.

It was not until he received the script and re-read the original work that he remembered this character. However, after scouring the script, he realized the role had been completely cut.

The screenwriter’s reasoning was that the character had a weak presence in the original book, an unclear storyline, and did not drive the plot forward much. Since he shared a name with the lead, they simply deleted him.

But Lu Xincheng, having read the original thoroughly, felt the character was essential.

Wen Yaozhi’s descent into darkness was heavily linked to the death of his best friend, Lu Xincheng. Removing this character did not just strip the story of its warmth; it caused the protagonist’s character arc to vanish.

During the script reading, Lu Xincheng had fought three-to-one against the writers. He got so heated that he threw his artistic dignity out the window, slamming the table and shouting until his face was red.

Now, whenever Lu Xincheng heard those two names, he had a Pavlovian urge to hit a table.

“You knew him the longest, yet you never understood him.” Meng Yili pulled up a chair and sat down, lighting a cigarette. “That man, Wen Yaozhi, he does not care about anyone. He is the most heartless person in this world.”

“That is not right,” Lu Xincheng retorted, the rebuttal now ingrained in his muscle memory.

“Wen Yaozhi and Lu Xincheng were best friends since they were students. If it were not for Lu Xincheng, Wen Yaozhi would have died under that bridge on a rainy night. Without Lu Xincheng, he would not have even had food to eat. Without Lu Xincheng, the Wen Yaozhi of today would not exist!”

Lu Xincheng spoke with such agitation that he sat bolt upright, the white sheet sliding off his body. “Lu Xincheng is Wen Yaozhi’s ‘White Moonlight’!”

The sliding cloth barely covered his lower abdomen, revealing a young, beautiful body with a thin layer of muscle over broad shoulders and a narrow waist. If not for the gruesome cross-stitch on his chest, it would have been a perfect, vibrant physique.

The cigarette in Meng Yili’s hand dropped to the floor with a soft thud.

Fans of the book often said Ghost Hunter had no female lead. The author never provided an official romantic interest. However, the female character with the most screen time was undoubtedly Meng Yili.

Meng Yili’s profession was a mortician. But she had another identity: a Shipo.

This is commonly known as a spirit medium.

Meng Yili swiftly pulled the hairpin from her hair, sliced her finger, and drew a talisman in blood on her palm. Before Lu Xincheng could react, that bloody palm slammed into his forehead.

Lu Xincheng felt a wave of dizziness and fell backward involuntarily. As if he were drunk, his vision blurred, and his body felt incredibly light. He struggled to stay conscious, shaking his head and widening his eyes. The view before him had changed drastically.

Meng Yili was now standing far back.

And right in front of him, a man sitting on the cold steel bed fell straight back down. The sound of cold, hard skin hitting the metal plate let out a dull thud.

The man’s eyes were tightly shut, his long lashes casting large shadows over his eyelids. He had a straight nose, a thin upper lip, and a full lower lip.

Even with the eyes closed, Lu Xincheng recognized the person instantly; it was himself.

Meng Yili stared at the corpse for a long while. After confirming it would not move again, she bent down to pick up her cigarette and began to smoke distractedly, her fingers still trembling. After finishing the cigarette, she covered the body with the sheet and made a phone call.

“Lu Xincheng just experienced a corpse twitch.”

“Yes, logically his soul should not still be here. But I just struck it out.” She glanced at the white sheet occasionally. “I am not sure if his spirit is still in this room.”

Lu Xincheng felt very strange. He was clearly right there, yet Meng Yili seemed unable to see him. He slowly approached her.

Meng Yili stiffened. The phone signal was interrupted by some kind of interference, emitting a crackling static that made the voice on the other end sound intermittent.

“He is still here.” Meng Yili’s eyes searched the room, yet she saw no one.

Lu Xincheng was standing right in front of her, waving a hand before her eyes. “Hi.”

But Meng Yili did not even blink.

The voice on the phone was indifferent. “Leave for now. Leave a talisman to bind him to the room.”

“Wen Yaozhi, what do you plan to do?”

Hearing that name, Lu Xincheng paused. He pressed his ear closer to the phone. The phone emitted a sharp, piercing whine. Meng Yili quickly pulled the device away.

In the middle of the night, the morgue was chilling, yet nothing was colder than the man’s voice on the other end: “I will do what I must.”

The voice dissipated into the air. Meng Yili did not seem to hear it, but Lu Xincheng heard it clearly, and he shivered violently.

Since the signal was so poor, Meng Yili did not say much more. She hung up, packed her things quickly, and turned off the lights.

“Do not even think about looking for Wen Yaozhi. If he sees you as you are now, he will definitely make your soul scatter.” As the door closed, the cold female voice drifted through the crack.

Strangely, Meng Yili did not stick any talisman on the door. Lu Xincheng walked out easily.

The funeral parlor in the latter half of the night was filled with a frigid aura. Everywhere he looked, there were silhouettes; some huddled in corners, some wandering the corridors, and others crawling on the ceiling. They ignored Lu Xincheng, seemingly accepting him as one of their own.

Lu Xincheng walked from the first floor to the second, then back to the first. He could not find a way out of this ghost-ridden place. Faced with a world that felt increasingly real, a bad feeling grew in his heart.

This was far beyond what a nightmare could produce. Lu Xincheng’s heart went cold. It took a long time for him to accept the reality: he had transmigrated.

He had entered the world of The Ghost Hunter’s Apocalypse.

Lu Xincheng eventually circled back to the morgue. He looked at the man with the same face, the recently deceased cannon fodder “White Moonlight,” Lu Xincheng. He tried various positions, but he simply could not return to that cold body.

Lu Xincheng now remembered that while he was in a daze earlier, he had heard a voice.

“You have been bound to the Transmigration System. World: The Ghost Hunter’s Apocalypse. Role: Protagonist’s White Moonlight Cannon Fodder Friend. Mission: Prevent the male lead from darkening. Goal: Once achieved, you may return to your world.”

He had not paid attention then, but it was all sinking in now. Not only had he transmigrated into a dead man, but he also had not successfully re-entered the body.

The corpse was starting to develop faint livor mortis. In a few days, it would likely be cremated. What would happen to him then? Would his soul vanish with it? Or would he become a wandering ghost forever?

Both outcomes were terrifying.

Years of acting had given Lu Xincheng a resilient psychological state. He quickly calmed himself down and tried to recall the plot of the book.

In the story, Lu Xincheng was a washed-up actor who, in order to become famous again, traded his soul to an Evil God. But before he could truly make a comeback, he died in an accident.

In The Ghost Hunter’s Apocalypse, when a human makes a wish to an evil spirit and the spirit grants it, a contract is formed. A black line appears around the wisher’s wrist.

Lu Xincheng looked at the corpse’s left hand. Sure enough, there was a faint black line on the wrist. His heart skipped a beat.

In the next instant, that black line disappeared.

Lu Xincheng slowly moved his gaze to his own wrist. A greenish-black mark, like a thin cord, was now wrapped around his own wrist.

At the same time, a voice rang out in his head.

“Congratulations. You have inherited the Evil God worshipped by the original host. The Evil God ‘Felt Hat’ has reached a worship contract with the host.”

The system’s cold, emotionless voice informed Lu Xincheng.

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