Marrying the Scumbag Gong’s Villainous Older Brother [Transmigration] - Chapter 3

At five o’clock in the morning, Jing Xun appeared on the streets.

Following the original owner’s memories, he made his way to the subway station, planning to head toward his university. This was the first time Jing Xun had ever ridden the subway. Before this, aside from his campus and hospitals, Jing Xun was almost entirely ignorant of the outside world.

He rarely went out, and when he did, it was always in a private car. Of course, this was still due to his health. Fortunately, after one night, he had mastered the original owner’s memories and gathered enough information to navigate the world.

Go with the flow.

Last night in the bathroom, he had taken a moment to look in the mirror. The original owner’s face was, unsurprisingly, identical to his own, right down to the mole at the corner of his eye. The difference was that this body was in much better condition; his physique and complexion looked healthier. Even after such a “tumultuous” night, he felt fine—everything proved he now possessed a strong constitution.

He was undoubtedly Yan Jingxun now.

The early morning subway had quite a few people, but it wasn’t crowded. Jing Xun found a secluded spot to sit, yet he still attracted many glances. He guessed it was because his clothes were too disheveled and his hair made him look a bit bedraggled—like someone returning from a night of drunken indulgence.

But there was nothing he could do. He didn’t know how late they had carried on before finally sleeping. To strictly implement the “one-night stand” protocol, he hadn’t even bothered to check his appearance when he woke up; he just grabbed two pieces of clothing off the floor, threw them on, and ran out.

Jing Xun still remembered the man’s reaction when he asked if it was a one-night stand. In the bathroom bathed in orange light, the man let out a low chuckle. That was the first time Jing Xun had seen him smile. It was ambiguous—not ugly or unpleasant, but it gave Jing Xun a spine-chilling feeling.

Immediately after, he was made to feel “a bit of pain” and forgot to follow up. After a long time, he never received a direct answer. Jing Xun felt that was a form of tacit agreement. That laugh might have been because the man found him naive for asking such a question in a place like that.

Thinking about it made Jing Xun’s face flush uncontrollably. There was the embarrassment of making a fool of himself, but more so the bashfulness of having been physically intimate with someone. To avoid the awkwardness of daybreak, he decided it was best to leave first. After all, he had heard from some “player” seniors that the scariest part of a one-night stand was having the partner cling to you afterward.

Jing·Knows the Rules·Xun instinctively shrank into his seat, forcing himself not to think about it anymore.

…The one-night stand is over. To keep dwelling on it would be the real embarrassment.

Jing Xun began to force himself to think about the future. Because he had been forbidden from doing anything before, having a healthy body meant he could now do many things he never dared dream of. “Trying the forbidden fruit” was one. He had already checked that off. Now it was time to do more things he had never done.

But first, to avoid trouble, he had to draw a clear line between himself and the scum gong’s group.

The original Yan Jingxun was a “weak shou” in the traditional sense. In the novel, he was bullied everywhere, had no special talents or “golden fingers,” and not only was the process tragic, but he even ended up permanently disabled.

Jing Xun didn’t dare be careless. His senior had mentioned that later in the novel, there were plots where the shou was locked in a dark room by the scum gong, and even group scenes!

…Thinking about being with the scum gong… Hard pass. That kind of situation would never happen!

While pondering this, Jing Xun noticed a girl about his age sitting opposite him, quietly observing him. Thinking his disheveled appearance was bothering her, Jing Xun instinctively smoothed his hair and gave her an apologetic smile.

Continuing to plan other matters, he didn’t notice the girl’s face instantly turn red the moment he smiled.

Jing Xun arrived at the school a bit early. The original owner was a junior, soon to be a senior, and was currently facing final exams. It was the busiest time of the semester.

According to memory, pre-exam classes were particularly important, especially for attendance, which affected final grades. He had to head back to the dorm to get his books before going to the teaching building.

Jing Xun had never had a normal schooling experience; after graduating from the “prodigy class,” he became an honorary university professor. The idea of being a normal student and taking finals seemed fun.

Since it was still early, he went to the cafeteria for breakfast first to avoid disturbing his roommates, then wandered around the campus. The campus wasn’t unfamiliar—or rather, it was too familiar. Aside from growing up in an orphanage when he was very young, he had lived on campuses since he was selected for the prodigy class at age nine.

However, back then, whenever he was conscious, he was studying or doing research. He always associated the school with competitions and academic work. He had never once walked lightly on a plastic track like this, breathing in the fresh campus air.

He hadn’t been “grounded” in his past life, per se. His achievements in research and competitions were posted on bulletin boards across the country to inspire students. Everyone looked at him with reverence. If they could have found a way to save him, many would have tried. But his health was simply too poor. He knew he had been at death’s door for a long time.

He had given his all to those who showed him warmth. Looking at it this way, perhaps he had finished paying his debts and arrived in heaven? Jing Xun thought jokingly.

Five students carrying books walked toward the library, likely heading for self-study.

Self-study in the library. Mhm, another item for the bucket list.

Just as he thought this, he noticed the students freeze when they saw him, then pass by whispering and laughing. Jing Xun touched his face, wondering if his current look was truly that disastrous.

It wasn’t until he got back to the dorm and charged his dead phone that he understood what was happening.

It turned out that by not jumping from the second floor last night, he had changed more than just his relationship with the scum gong; he had changed Yan Jingxun’s reputation.

In the original book, the scene on the rooftop was recorded and posted online with malicious titles like “University Student Suicides for Love,” causing netizens to bash the original owner for being fragile and wasteful. But now, the comments on the video were different:

“Wait, if I’m not hearing this wrong, are those people encouraging him to jump? Is this some kind of cult?”

“Not a cult, just the famous rich second-generation circle in Long City. These rich kids always play wild.”

“Wow, look at their faces. No blur? The person who posted this is brave.”

“So malicious, betting on someone’s life! How do their parents raise them?”

“The guy on the ledge looks so pitiful, he must have been bullied! Thank God he came down. @LongCityPolice, can you check if he’s safe?”

“Maybe it was a joke? He looked pretty calm when he came down.”

“Their attitude didn’t look like a joke at all.”

“OMG look at 1:35 when he turns around! Does someone that handsome actually exist? He looks like he stepped out of a fairy tale! Where does he go to school?!”

Scrolling further, Jing Xun learned the original post had been deleted. But the social response was so strong that the video had been mirrored everywhere. However, it was likely that the rich second-gen kids would use their influence to wipe the topic by noon.

Yet… was he just going to let it disappear?

Even though he didn’t jump, the psychological damage they intended and the words they said were real.

Jing Xun sat down and opened the original owner’s computer. He flexed his fingers, waited for it to boot, and typed a string of code.

“Axun, you’re back? Huh?” His roommate poked his head out of the bathroom with wet hair and saw Jing Xun sitting upright with a focused expression.

The roommate watched him type rapidly, his fingers flying across the keys with extreme familiarity.

“What are you doing? Opening the computer this early?” the roommate asked.

Jing Xun replied casually while typing: “Creating a new domain.”

A place to host the video that even top-tier hackers wouldn’t be able to take down easily.

“Huh? What for? Are you still half-asleep?” The roommate was baffled.

Fortunately, there was a C-language programming class this semester with an upcoming exam, so Jing Xun’s early-morning coding didn’t look too out of place. But what he was writing was far too advanced for a junior undergraduate. To avoid trouble, Jing Xun hit the final “Enter” before his roommate could walk over and closed the interface.

He turned and gave his roommate a mysterious smile. “Just making something fun.”

Meanwhile, at 6:00 AM, Shen Yijin opened his eyes.

Years of habitual biological clock-keeping made him wake up at the same time every day. Usually, he would get up, wash, and go to work. But today, something was different.

The space beside him was empty as always. But the pile of messy clothes on the floor and the ruffled sheets proved that someone had climbed into his bed last night.

And it seemed the person had already left? While he was still asleep…

Without warning, a scene from last night flashed through his mind—the youth being pinned down by him.

He had been in a bad mood yesterday. He couldn’t help it. Every thunderstorm, especially at night, triggered his manic-depressive episodes. But the youth’s whimpering seemed to drown out the rain that music could never mask. And the scent on the other person was more intoxicating and effective for him than aged liquor.

Shen Yijin pressed his aching temples. He got up, messaged his assistant Xiao Tang to bring a suit, and went to wash up. When he came out, Jin Zheheng was already in the foyer.

Jin Zheheng was Shen Yijin’s special assistant. Having followed him for three years, he was the person Shen Yijin trusted most. As a seasoned assistant, Jin Zheheng didn’t even blink at the “traces” left in the room.

This nightclub was one of the Shen family’s properties. He knew the boss sometimes didn’t like returning to the Shen residence and would stay here. This suite was prepared specifically for that. As for why he’d stay at a nightclub instead of his various mansions… well, the habits of the elite weren’t for ordinary people to decipher.

Although at first, Jin Zheheng thought the boss was just occasionally venting. He hadn’t seen the boss have any private life in all these years. But… even the most precise machinery needs oil sometimes, and even the most ascetic man has needs.

Jin Zheheng, being a man, expressed that he understood. He began reporting today’s schedule.

Shen Yijin listened in silence. After the report, Jin Zheheng asked: “Boss, should I have the manager here prepare breakfast, or…”

“Back to the company,” Shen Yijin replied as usual.

A bit later, Xiao Tang delivered the new suit. After changing, the three headed to the company.

By 7:30 AM, Shen Yijin had finished breakfast. On the 49th floor of a high-rise in Long City’s most bustling CBD, he should have started handling documents. But this time, he picked up his private phone and dialed a number.

Nie Yandong.

“S-Shen, President Shen?!” Nie Yandong’s voice sounded flattered on the other end.

Capital was scarce these years, and the Nie family was struggling. As the young master, Nie Yandong was frantic for investment. In all of Long City, who had capital besides the Shen family? Or rather, who had the ability besides Shen Yijin?

Even though the old master of the Shen family was still alive, eighty percent of the industry had been handed to the eldest grandson, Shen Yijin. You couldn’t call it favoritism—Shen Yijin simply had the best vision and talent. Other family businesses were teetering; only the Shen family had flourished since his return from abroad.

To please Shen Yijin, Nie Yandong had put in a lot of effort lately. Shen Yijin knew this. Nie Yandong had tried sending objects and people, all of which Shen Yijin rejected.

Except for the one last night…

“The person from last night…” Shen Yijin looked out the window, his voice too indifferent to read. “What is his name?”

He got straight to the point. Unexpectedly, he didn’t get an answer. Instead, he got Nie Yandong’s confused voice: “…Person? What person?”

Shen Yijin: “…”

The image of the youth looking up at him flashed in his mind. The mole at the corner of the eye was striking. The apricot-shaped eyes were misted and red, with a flickering, shattered light in the depths. He wasn’t helpless, but he gave off a fragile, pitiable feeling. It made you focus entirely on him.

By accident, even the manic-depressive mood had vanished.

After a brief description, Nie Yandong finally understood what had happened. He immediately swore: “I definitely didn’t send him up! I did bring someone last night, but you said you didn’t want anyone! So I sent them away! I know your temper; I wouldn’t have the guts!”

It was no joke—everyone in the circle knew the eldest Shen grandson’s style was rigid and iron-fisted. He was incorruptible and had an eccentric, moody temper. His personality was unpredictable. Only one thing was certain: Master Shen meant what he said. If he said no, he meant no; if he said no disturbances, he meant no disturbances. Who would dare send someone up?

Assuming Shen Yijin was angry, Nie Yandong continued indignantly: “So who was bold enough?! President Shen, do you want me to handle this? I’ll find them for you! I want to see who…”

While the other was explaining anxiously, Shen Yijin only listened. Finally, he spoke: “No need. Thanks.”

Declining the offer and indicating he didn’t want more people knowing, Shen Yijin hung up and called Jin Zheheng in.

He was born with a majestic, commanding presence. Right now, his handsome face was set in a tight, dignified line. After briefly explaining the situation, Shen Yijin remained expressionless.

He only said: “Find him.”