I Transmigrated Into the Script and Married the Villain - Chapter 2

When Zhang Xingxing finally awoke, his head and neck throbbed, and his body felt like it had been disassembled and reassembled. He struggled out of bed, dizzy and disoriented, and stumbled toward the water pitcher.

It took a few seconds for his brain to catch up. He was still alive! He had witnessed Shen Zhijing’s brutal murder scene, yet he hadn’t been silenced. What was going on? This didn’t fit the villain’s crazed persona at all!

“Young Master! Young Master, you’re finally awake!” A swarm of maids and servants rushed into the room, crying and wailing as they pushed him back onto the bed. “Young Master, you’re still recovering from your illness. You need to rest properly!”

“Young Master, you’ve been asleep for four days! We were all so worried!”

“Hurry and inform Lord Wei that Young Master has awakened!”

The clamor gave Zhang Xingxing a headache. “Stop, stop, stop! Speak one at a time. I’ll ask the questions, and you’ll answer them.”

“You,” Zhang Xingxing pointed at the maid supporting his arm. “How did I fall ill?”

“To answer Young Master’s question, you’ve been suffering from water and soil sickness since arriving at Pan Lake Sword Manor. A few days ago, while boating on the lake, you were startled and somehow fell into the water. You’ve been burning with a fever and unconscious for four days. It was only yesterday, when Lord Wei used his internal energy to expel some of the heat, that your fever finally broke.”

Zhang Xingxing nodded. “I see.”

It seemed the night Zhang Xingxing had witnessed Shen Zhijing’s murder had been four days ago. After fainting from the shock, he had been rescued by a passing martial arts expert, a plausible explanation.

“What’s your name?” Zhang Xingxing asked the young maid, stretching his stiff waist.

“Replying to Young Master, this servant is Chunxiao,” the maid answered, her tone a mix of surprise and uncertainty. Has Young Master lost his memory after sleeping for so many days?

“You just said this is Pan Lake Sword Manor,” Zhang Xingxing frowned. “Why am I here?”

“Young Master, you must be delirious from the fever. Master specifically instructed Lord Wei to bring you to Pan Lake Sword Manor for training. Master said the Dragon Boat Festival is a once-in-a-millennium opportunity for you to experience the trials of the jianghu firsthand.”

Ah, so the original owner of this body was a young master just entering the jianghu.

Pan Lake Sword Manor, Dragon Boat Festival, Zhang Xingxing swiftly reviewed the plot in his mind. This is the first instance dungeon from “Ten Years to Wake from the Jianghu Dream”!

Pan Lake Sword Manor was one of the most prestigious martial sects in the jianghu. Its founder, Cao Chengyong, had risen to fame in his youth by wielding the Jade Spring Sword, winning first place at the Martial Arts Assembly. After a lifetime of wandering the jianghu, he established Pan Lake Sword Manor, gathering 181 disciples beneath him. The sect produced exceptional talents and commanded immense respect.

The Pan Lake Sword Manor held a Dragon Boat Festival every three years, inviting outstanding young disciples from various sects to compete. Though ostensibly a dragon boat race, the event served as an opportunity for the younger generation to spar, compare martial skills, and identify rising talents—essentially, a junior version of the Martial Arts Assembly.

It was during the Pan Lake Sword Manor arc that the male and female leads of the drama first met and clashed, leading to their eventual romance. This explained why the plot had only progressed to the first episode.

However, as Zhang Xingxing recalled the script, his scalp tingled with dread, and a cold sweat broke out across his back.

The Pan Lake Sword Manor arc was the drama’s sole mystery arc and its most terrifying story.

It revolved around a series of murders at the manor, entwined with generations of love, hatred, and vengeance within the Pan Lake Sword Manor.

In the original novel, over a dozen martial arts masters had died mysteriously at the manor, their deaths attributed to bizarre methods.

The murders were ingeniously plotted, and the investigation was fraught with peril, making the arc immensely popular with readers. Ultimately, the male and female leads collaborated to uncover the truth and bring the killer to justice.

None of this particularly alarmed Zhang Xingxing. What truly terrified him was the novel’s description of the Pan Lake Sword Manor’s final fate:

“A raging inferno swept through the entire manor in an instant, turning the mountains and fields into a sea of flames.”

The manor’s inhabitants had long since been driven into a bloodthirsty frenzy. Flesh and blood flew in all directions, the crimson glow of carnage and the fiery blaze weaving seamlessly together beneath the vast night sky, like a grand sacrificial rite.

By dawn, Pan Lake Sword Manor lay in utter silence. Apart from Shen Zhijing, who had left the previous day, and Tang Qianfeng and Sheng Lan, who had already departed by boat, no one survived.

Zhang Xingxing: “……..”

Great. I’ve transmigrated into a death trap.

No one survives except the main characters and the villains! Oh, and Tang Qianfeng and Sheng Lan are the female and male leads of this story.

Though Zhang Xingxing hadn’t yet figured out the identity of the original owner of the body he now inhabited, it was clear he wasn’t one of the leads.

The male lead was a peerless martial artist, a wandering hero of the jianghu. This body, however, had weak bones and soft muscles, clearly belonging to someone with mediocre martial skills.

Author, what were you thinking?! Don’t supporting characters have human rights? Doesn’t even a nameless extra deserve to live?!

This is outrageous! Without the protagonist’s plot armor, I’m going to die in my very first arc! I can’t imagine a more tragic transmigration scenario!

Zhang Xingxing sprang out of bed with a carp-like flip, ready to rush out the door.

“Aiya, Young Master, where are you going?!”

“Young Master, you’ll catch a cold! Put your shoes on first!” Chunxiao urged anxiously, holding out his shoes.

A group of maids swarmed him, tugging at his sleeves and pulling at his belt, creating chaos in the room.

“Let go of me! Staying here will get me killed! I’m not staying here any longer! I’m going home!”

Zhang Xingxing struggled desperately, finally breaking free from their grasp. He shoved open the door…

And froze in place.

Standing outside was a man in a dark blue robe, an jade crown atop his head, accentuating his snow-white complexion and noble bearing. His features were strikingly beautiful, his eyes bright and captivating.

The man stood at the doorway, lightly swaying a folding fan. When he saw Zhang Xingxing burst out, his peach-blossom eyes curved into a smile as he met Zhang Xingxing’s gaze.

Zhang Xingxing’s face turned ashen, as if he’d seen a ghost. He whirled around to flee, but his legs were weak from exhaustion, and he stumbled, nearly falling.

The man chuckled softly and reached out to steady him by the waist, pulling him firmly against his chest. “Young Master Zhang has been asleep for four days. I heard he finally woke up this morning, so I came to check on him.”

This exquisitely handsome man before him was the same red-robed madman who had slaughtered eighteen people with a folding fan on the lake that night.

The two faces merged in Zhang Xingxing’s mind. Who else could it be but Shen Zhijing?

What was Shen Zhijing doing here?

Still guarding the entrance to his bedchamber, was Shen Zhijing planning to torture him upon waking before silencing him permanently? Truly, the villain’s thought processes diverged wildly from those of ordinary people.

It would be a lie to say Zhang Xingxing wasn’t afraid. No matter how handsome, Shen Zhijing was still a villain. A thin layer of sweat seeped into Zhang Xingxing’s palm, terrified that the man would suddenly succumb to the madness described in the original novel and slaughter him on the spot.

Just as Zhang Xingxing was secretly panicking, Shen Zhijing unexpectedly seized his wrist and held it for a long moment, feeling his pulse.

Zhang Xingxing: “?”

With one hand gripping his wrist, Shen Zhijing casually draped his other arm around Zhang Xingxing’s shoulder. From the side, it looked as if Zhang Xingxing were being held in his embrace, causing Zhang Xingxing’s heart to pound wildly with fear.

Yet Shen Zhijing released his wrist and said, “The young master’s condition is no longer critical. A few more days of rest will ensure a full recovery.”

His voice was gentle, as if warmed by a hot spring—clear, melodious, and effortlessly endearing.

The maids behind Zhang Xingxing chorused their thanks. Zhang Xingxing retreated a few steps, his legs trembling violently. The faint fragrance of Shen Zhijing’s presence still lingered in the air, giving him the surreal sensation of being in a dream. Would the villain in our drama actually take someone’s pulse?

The settings must be wrong.

Zhang Xingxing’s calves trembled. He could only lean on Chunxiao’s arm and say weakly, “Thank you, Young Master Shen.”

“Oh?” Shen Zhijing paused his departing steps, turning back with amusement. “How did you know my surname is Shen?”

Zhang Xingxing: ?!

Damn, I let my guard down! The original owner had never met Shen Zhijing before. He shouldn’t know his name, especially since, according to the plot, Shen Zhijing had only recently emerged from seclusion in the Demonic Cult’s stronghold. Even in the martial world, few people would recognize him. Yet Zhang Xingxing had directly called out his surname, that’s far too suspicious.

I can’t exactly say, “Because I’m your actor, you idiot!”

“Because…” Zhang Xingxing steeled his resolve, closed his eyes, and blurted out, “As the saying goes, a thousand glances in a past life earn a fleeting encounter in this one. A thousand fleeting encounters lead to our meeting. Though our connection may be shallow, our karmic bond runs deep. Meeting you in this life proves our past lives were deeply intertwined. With such a profound connection, when I look back amidst the vast sea of people, I naturally recall our past life’s ties. What’s so strange about knowing your surname is Shen?”

Shen Zhijing: “………”

The servants behind Zhang Xingxing: “………”

“Young Master Zhang’s erudition is profound; I am humbled by my own inadequacy,” Shen Zhijing said, closing his folding fan while maintaining unwavering eye contact with Zhang Xingxing, his expression betraying no hint of emotion.

“Please, you flatter me,” Zhang Xingxing replied, waving his hand modestly.

He had only acted in a few hilariously over-the-top idol dramas when he first started out, and he had memorized his lines perfectly back then. Who would have thought they’d come in handy today?

Just as Zhang Xingxing breathed a sigh of relief, he had to swallow it back down.

“May I inquire as to Young Master Zhang’s given name?”

Zhang Xingxing froze. He didn’t know the original owner’s name. If he got it wrong under all these watchful eyes, he’d be exposed. Bracing himself, he decided to play it by ear: “Zhang Xingxing.”

To his surprise, the servants showed no reaction. Could it be? Was the original owner actually named Zhang Xingxing?

“Xingxing,” Shen Zhijing repeated the name several times, sending shivers down Zhang Xingxing’s spine.

“I’ve been reading some classical texts recently and was hoping to find someone to discuss them with, but I haven’t found a kindred spirit,” Shen Zhijing said, his tone shifting. He glanced meaningfully around the room, his implication clear: Aren’t you going to invite me in to sit down?

Zhang Xingxing’s smile nearly froze on his face. “Young Master Shen, to be honest, I’ve been unwell since childhood. As you mentioned earlier, I need to rest now. Perhaps we could reschedule for another day…”

“Young Master, that day you fainted by the river, Young Master Shen carried you all the way back,” Chunxiao whispered to Zhang Xingxing.

Of course, what she thought was a whisper was easily audible to someone with martial training. Shen Zhijing smiled faintly at Chunxiao before turning his gaze back to Zhang Xingxing.

Shut up, you blabbermouth! Zhang Xingxing fumed inwardly.

Wait… what did she just say?

Shen Zhijing carried him back that day? Zhang Xingxing felt like the world had gone mad.

A villain kills someone, then sees a witness who has fainted from fright. Instead of silencing the witness, he saves them and carries them home?

“Are you alright, Great Villain?”

Zhang Xingxing, looking like he had a toothache, stepped aside to let Shen Zhijing enter the room.

Soon, tea and pastries were arranged on the table. Zhang Xingxing politely pushed the pastries across to Shen Zhijing, who picked up one piece after another, eating them. The two sat facing each other, creating an unexpectedly harmonious scene.

The harmonious moment lasted less than two minutes. The door, barely closed, was violently pushed open again. “Zhang Xingxing! I finally found you! I thought you’d been killed by that Shen… Shen…”

Chen Che burst in like a whirlwind, his words trailing off as he met Shen Zhijing’s smiling gaze.

Shen Zhijing calmly set down his pastry and said warmly, “Is this young master here to see Young Master Zhang? Speak slowly. What were you saying about Shen…?”

Chen Che froze for a few seconds, then abruptly turned to leave. “…My apologies for the intrusion. Farewell.”

Zhang Xingxing wasn’t about to let him go. He lunged forward, grabbed Chen Che, and hauled him back. Chen Che flailed wildly in mid-air, desperate to escape, but being half a head shorter than Zhang Xingxing, he was dragged, pale-faced, to the seat opposite Shen Zhijing.

Shen Zhijing watched them bicker without betraying any emotion, then calmly placed another pastry in his mouth. He waited until the sweetness had fully dissolved before speaking. “Forgive my impertinence, but I’m curious why you two are so afraid of me?”

Zhang Xingxing and Chen Che exchanged glances, then burst into forced laughter. “Ha… ha… are we?”

Chen Che glared at Zhang Xingxing: It’s all your fault for being such a terrible actor.

Zhang Xingxing glared back defiantly: Who knew you had such poor mental fortitude?

The pastry plate on the table had been emptied unnoticed. For a moment, no one spoke. Shen Zhijing seemed oblivious to the awkward silence, calmly raising his teacup and draining it in one smooth motion.

“In that case, Young Master should rest and recuperate. I’ll return another day to pay my respects to Young Master and this gentleman…” Shen Zhijing’s gaze settled on Chen Che.

Zhang Xingxing quickly interjected, “His name is Chen Che.”

Chen Che kicked Zhang Xingxing’s shin repeatedly under the table, but Zhang Xingxing ignored him, cupping his hands in a formal greeting and continuing to address Shen Zhijing. “Thank you, Young Master Shen, for saving my life. Once I’ve recovered, I will personally visit your residence to express my gratitude.”

Shen Zhijing’s lips curved into an enigmatic smile. He snapped his folding fan shut, turned, and walked away.

As soon as Shen Zhijing’s figure disappeared beyond the doorway, Zhang Xingxing rose, dismissed the servants, and sealed the bedroom door and windows tightly, ensuring not a sound could escape. Then he whispered urgently, “What’s your situation?”

“Similar to yours,” Chen Che replied. “I was unconscious for several days. When I woke up, the servants said I’d fallen into the river while boating and was rescued by a passing fisherman.”

Zhang Xingxing waved his hand dismissively. “Oh, that’s not so bad. Shen Zhijing carried me back.”

“Ah?!” Chen Che exclaimed.

“Forget Shen Zhijing for now. Our immediate priority is escaping this place. Did you find out where we are after waking up?”

“Yes, Pan Lake Sword Manor. It’s where the serial murders in the first ten episodes of the script take place.”

“Exactly. After episode ten, everyone at the manor except the main characters dies, including us.” Zhang Xingxing paced the room anxiously.

“I don’t remember that part,” Chen Che said.

Zhang Xingxing threw his hands up in exasperation. “Dude, page fifteen, fourth line! Were you daydreaming during the script read-through?!”

Chen Che raised his hands in surrender. “Alright, alright, what’s the plan then?”

“We absolutely can’t just sit here and wait to die. Go pack your things. We’re leaving tonight, sneaking out unnoticed. That way, we can avoid the tragedy at Pan Lake Sword Manor and dodge Shen Zhijing at the same time.”

“But we’re guests of Pan Lake Sword Manor. Shouldn’t we at least inform the manor lord before leaving?”

Zhang Xingxing looked at him, baffled. “Are you trying to make our escape even harder?”

Chen Che cupped his hands in a gesture of surrender. “You win.” Without further hesitation, he rose and went to his room to pack.

As Zhang Xingxing spoke, he reached for a pastry on the plate, only to find it empty. “?”

Shen Zhijing had devoured all the pastries earlier. Annoyed, Zhang Xingxing shoved the plate aside. Only then did he finally have time to examine his current body.

The original owner wasn’t short, about the same height as Zhang Xingxing in his previous life. But because he was still growing, he appeared particularly slender.

A bronze mirror lay on the table. Zhang Xingxing leaned in for a closer look at the original owner’s face and gasped. How could he look so much like me? Bright eyes, well-defined features, even the same dimples at the corners of his mouth—the overall impression was pleasing and refreshing.

He paced the room a few times, stretching his limbs, and ordered a servant to pack some travel funds into a bundle.

The world beyond Pan Lake Sword Manor stretched vast and boundless. With a bit of preparation, Zhang Xingxing could finally make his escape.

Support I Transmigrated Into the Script and Married the Villain