Newlywed Roommate (ABO) - Chapter 2

Xiang Zhiqing felt like he was cursed with the worst luck imaginable.

He was originally a lifelong servant of the Xiang family, a clan of ancient martial arts practitioners. His foster father had been the family driver, a man who had picked him up off the side of the road leading to the Xiang estate when he was just a child.

Despite his humble beginnings, he possessed raw, natural talent. He started training at four, became a “Post-Heaven” martial artist at twelve, and began representing the Xiang family in the “Ancient Martial Arts Arena Championship” at fifteen. From the age of seventeen, he was undefeated. By twenty-one, he had helped the Xiang family secure a spot among the four great martial clans. That same year, his foster father passed away, and he signed an agreement with the family: he would fight for them for five more years to help them seize the title of the “Head of the Martial Families,” after which he would be completely free to do whatever he pleased.

Yesterday was supposed to be the glorious day of his liberation.

He had been overjoyed, drinking recklessly in the grand villa the Xiang family had given him as a final settlement, eventually falling into a blissful, drunken stupor on the three-meter-wide bed in the master bedroom.

Yet, when he woke up, the entire world had changed.

First, his six-hundred-square-meter villa had shrunk into a cramped, two-bedroom apartment. Second, all the familiar furnishings had been replaced by high-tech gadgets he had never seen before. Then, as he turned around, he discovered a male corpse leaning against the corner of the wall—a corpse that looked exactly like him.

For a moment, a chill crawled from the back of his head all the way down to his heels.

Xiang Zhiqing was completely numb.

It took a full two minutes before he forced himself to walk toward the body. He tried to remain calm as he inspected the man. Although they shared the same face, this man was much thinner, with sunken cheeks and dark circles under his eyes. A half-empty syringe was still stuck in his exposed arm. His expression was dreamy and ecstatic, frozen in a moment of bizarre euphoria. He had clearly overdosed on drugs and had died very recently.

Xiang Zhiqing took a deep breath and reached out to pull the syringe from the man’s arm, wanting to identify what kind of drug it was.

But the moment his fingertips brushed the skin, his head spun with dizziness. The world began to shake without warning. In a daze, it felt as if something was tearing through space and time. He saw his familiar room and his massive bed abruptly appear within the distorted air.

His heart leaped, and he instinctively reached out to grab it.

In the next second, a massive repulsive force slammed into him, violently flipping him backward. Right before his eyes, the corpse that looked exactly like him was suddenly sucked away by that power.

Xiang Zhiqing crashed through the wall, creating a hole. Steel rebar from the concrete pierced through his flesh, and blood began to drip steadily onto the floor.

Sitting in the rubble, he tilted his head back, and a few lines of thought surfaced in his mind, which was remarkably empty due to a lack of formal education.

…That hurts.

This wasn’t a dream.

It seemed he had traveled through time and space.

“Transmigration.”

Xiang Zhiqing had learned this fancy word from a movie, which was the first and only film he had ever seen.

He was sixteen at the time, at the peak of his rebellious phase.

He didn’t know how other people rebelled, but his own defiance was unpredictable and particularly wild. During that period, he suddenly grew disgusted with ancient martial arts and his monotonous life. He would intentionally zone out when his father or martial arts instructors weren’t looking, thinking about clouds in the sky or grass on the ground, anything to avoid thinking about how to execute a strike faster or better. He would spit out his bland nutritional meals when no one was watching and steal snacks from the young master’s table with a speed that no one could detect.

The most rebellious, most insane thing he had ever done, however, was skipping a tournament to sneak into a movie theater.

The movie was about a man who could travel through time. Being hunted in his own era, he crossed into a parallel world, killed his alternate self, and took over his life.

The plot was complicated, and Xiang Zhiqing didn’t really understand much of it, but he would never forget the thrilling sound effects, the wondrous special effects on the big screen, the scent of popcorn in the air, and… the look on his father’s face when he finally wandered back to the Xiang estate.

“Was the movie good?” his father had asked.

He nodded.

His father’s back slumped slightly. He remained silent for a long time before nodding and saying, “That’s good then.”

As he reached out to take the hat off his father’s head, he saw the dried blood at the corner of his father’s mouth and the handprint on his face.

That was the last act of rebellion in his adolescence, and the last time he ever watched a movie.

Of course, the Old Master Xiang who had struck his father paid the price. That night, Xiang Zhiqing took down four guards, stormed into the Old Master’s bedroom, pinned him against the nightstand, and shaved half the hair off his head.

He was beaten half to death afterward.

But from that day on, no one ever dared to lay a finger on his father.

Pulling himself out of the memory, Xiang Zhiqing looked down and absentmindedly pulled the rebar out of his flesh. He rummaged through the house until he found a medical kit and began treating his wound.

He thought of that movie again.

What was this situation?

An “identity swap”?

Fine, it was better than traveling to a parallel world to kill himself. After all, he hadn’t brought any corpse-dissolving powder, and getting rid of a body would have been a hassle.

However, he refused to acknowledge that drug addict with his face as “another version of himself.”

Xiang Zhiqing sighed, feeling like he was the unluckiest man alive.

Then, he resigned himself to his fate and began looking around, trying to adapt to his new identity.

This was a small, independent two-bedroom house. The walls were thin and the construction was rough, looking a bit like a self-built rural home, but that didn’t seem right. Outside the window, there were hundreds of identical small houses, each with its own serial number, arranged in a very orderly fashion.

It was snowing heavily outside. There wasn’t a single pedestrian on the road, only the occasional flying car speeding across the sky without stopping.

Xiang Zhiqing narrowed his eyes at the flying cars for a while, confirming that the level of technology in this era was far beyond his original world.

His world revered ancient martial arts, so technological development was slow. He used to think the new touch-screen phones were incredibly advanced and sci-fi, but here, cars could actually fly.

He pulled the curtains shut and searched the house. He couldn’t find any newspapers, magazines, books, or a television. He only found a battered, ruined greeting card under the rubble of the wall.

The faded, fragmented handwriting on the card was just barely legible.

Dear Mr. Xiang Zhiqing & Mr. An Chun:

Congratulations on your move to your new home!

Perhaps you are still strangers who do not know each other now, but by living under the same roof in the future, you will become!

requires adjustment, patience, and. Wishing you a happy!

Your Landlord.

January 15th, Federal Year 726

Xiang Zhiqing: …

His fingers tightened.

The greeting card crumbled into dust.

Xiang Zhiqing felt incredibly stifled.

Fine, he had traveled through space-time. Fine, his new identity was a drug addict. Fine, his six-hundred-square-meter villa had turned into a tiny two-bedroom shack. But why on earth was this dump a shared rental with a roommate?

The only comfort Xiang Zhiqing could find was that the other bedroom was completely empty. The roommate clearly hadn’t moved in yet, so they wouldn’t notice the change in his physique, he was significantly more muscular than the drug-addict version of Xiang Zhiqing.

Still, he was full of resentment.

And because he was full of resentment, he was a bit out of control while cleaning. He ripped off the drug addict’s bedsheets and covers to use them as a sling to carry out the rubble from the collapsed wall. Along the way, he accidentally knocked over three stools and a coffee table. On his way out, he even brushed against the coat rack in the corner. He instinctively reached out to steady it, only for the seemingly sturdy rack to crumble into splinters in his hand.

Xiang Zhiqing: “…”

How could this furniture be so flimsy? He really didn’t use any strength!!!

That wasn’t the end of his breakdown. Over the next half hour, he managed to shatter three cups, a water pitcher, another coffee table, and two chairs.

He almost thought his internal energy was spiraling out of control, but after folding a few beautiful paper cranes out of sticky notes, he realized that wasn’t the case. He wasn’t the problem, the quality of the things here was just terrible!

In his original world, everything was valued for its weight and sturdiness. Even water cups sold in supermarkets were mostly made of iron or stone, categorized into “Super Heavy,” “Heavy,” and “Regular” grades. This was so that martial artists and ordinary people could engage in daily weight-lifting training even while drinking water.

But the cups here? They were all made of glass!

As a Post-Heaven martial artist who was used to super-heavy cups, how could he possibly adjust?!

By the time he finally finished clearing the rubble, the living room was empty of all furniture except for the sofa and the shoe cabinet.

Xiang Zhiqing: “…”

He stared at the empty living room, the cracked floor tiles, and the half-collapsed wall, falling into deep thought.

Hm.

He wondered if it would be feasible to use force to threaten his roommate into not reporting him to the landlord…

A moment later, he sighed dejectedly. He went outside, found a massive boulder, used his internal energy to shave it flat, and hauled it back to serve as a coffee table. He found a few oval stones and hollowed them out to act as tea sets. Then, with great effort, he found a long stone and prepared to grind it into a coat rack.

But just as he brought the long stone home, he saw a train arriving at the distant station. Only one person got off. That tiny black dot was slowly making its way toward the house.

Even though there were many houses in the area, Xiang Zhiqing had an inexplicable gut feeling: that was his roommate!

Xiang Zhiqing: “!!!”

With lightning speed, he hid the long stone. He ran into the two bedrooms, moving the beds and wardrobes with fluid, practiced motions, using a massive wardrobe to completely hide the hole in the wall between the two rooms.

Once finished, he checked the window, the black dot was indeed getting closer!

But there was still time.

Aiming for perfection, he pulled out a spare bedding set to replace the dust-covered sheets in the roommate’s room and his own. Then, he found a laundry basket and placed it by the entrance to serve as a coat rack. Oh, right, he also took a dog leash he had found earlier with the roommate’s name on it and draped it over the basket. The roommate must have dropped it during a previous viewing. They would surely be happy to see their lost leash, which might make them overlook his “minor renovations” to the shared house.

Perfect.

He checked the window again. The roommate hadn’t arrived, but the black dot had taken on a human shape. The walk from the station was indeed long, and the snow was deep and difficult to navigate.

Xiang Zhiqing glanced at himself, covered in stone dust. He found a pair of loose pajamas with the tags still on in the drug addict’s room and hurried into the bathroom for a quick wash.

He emerged soon after and sat down leisurely on the sofa.

Beep.

The sound of an electronic lock came from the front door.

The roommate had arrived just in time.

The tightly shut door opened a crack, letting the cold wind and snow of the outside world into the heated house.

A young man around eighteen or nineteen years old stepped inside.

He was wearing a long black cotton coat and a grey-black scarf, pulling a somewhat worn-out cream-colored suitcase. Snow clung to his shoulders and the top of his head, and his hands and ears were beet-red from the cold. It was obvious he had been walking in the snow for a long time.

He hadn’t brought a dog.

Xiang Zhiqing felt a slight twinge of disappointment.

The heater was on full blast. The roommate’s movements were stiff from the cold as he entered. He turned to close the door and, under Xiang Zhiqing’s watchful gaze, slowly changed into slippers.

After a moment, beads of sweat began to form on the tip of his nose.

As expected, a foyer really needs a coat rack.

Xiang Zhiqing sighed internally. Pointing at the laundry basket by the entrance, he said to his new roommate, “Take off your clothes. Put them there.”

Tomorrow. Tomorrow, he would finish carving the stone coat rack.

On second thought, making a stone coat rack was too noisy, and if it fell, it might crush this frail-looking roommate. He would just buy a new one. He remembered finding over three hundred credits in the drug addict’s room.

The roommate turned to look at the laundry basket and paused for a second. He seemed a bit speechless, but he didn’t say anything and began to undress.

Xiang Zhiqing breathed a sigh of relief.

The roommate was actually quite easy to deal with.

He had miscalculated.

The roommate started taking off his clothes.

The scarf came off, then the coat, then the sweater, then the trousers, then the undershirt, and he was even preparing to take off his thermal leggings.

Xiang Zhiqing stood up. “Are you sick?!”

The roommate didn’t speak, only looking at him coldly.

Xiang Zhiqing: “…”

Was this a protest against his “minor renovations”?

Since you’re using a laundry basket instead of a rack, don’t blame me for throwing all my dirty clothes in!

Xiang Zhiqing: “…”

Was that it? How could a roommate be so petty?! It’s not like he wasn’t going to replace it!

Xiang Zhiqing’s head started to ache.

But he couldn’t exactly use his fists. The roommate’s upper body was completely bare, looking as thin and white as a plucked chicken. His ribs were clearly visible. He was obviously just an ordinary person who had never practiced martial arts. Xiang Zhiqing had no interest in bullying someone like that.

Besides, he was technically in the wrong.

But before he could figure out how to resolve the situation, the roommate looked away, lowered his eyes, and spoke, “Yes.”

Yes?

Roommate: “I am sick.”

Xiang Zhiqing: “…”

A mental illness?

Roommate: “I have Genetic and Glandular Deficiency Syndrome. I am prone to allergies. These marks on my body are caused by an allergic reaction.”

What genetics? What glands? What deficiency?

He didn’t understand.

But he couldn’t let it show.

Xiang Zhiqing listened calmly to the explanation, accurately catching the keyword “allergies.” Looking closer, the roommate’s torso was indeed covered in small red spots.

Oh… so it was an allergy.

It seemed the roommate was taking off his clothes because the allergy was severe.

Bullshit!

The bedroom was only a few steps away from the foyer!

Furthermore, his slow, deliberate movements didn’t show any sign of urgency, so he really was just angry about the missing coat rack!!!

What a petty roommate!

Xiang Zhiqing clenched his fist and then relaxed it. He pointed toward one of the bedroom doors and said to the roommate, “Your room is there!”

His tone was a bit unfriendly.

The roommate acted as if he hadn’t heard the hostility. He only nodded slightly, picked up his clothes, and pulled his suitcase toward the bedroom.

Cold as ice, looking straight ahead, he didn’t give Xiang Zhiqing a second glance.

Xiang Zhiqing: “…”

He threw himself back onto the sofa.

He thought gloomily to himself.

What a difficult roommate to get along with.