One Hundred Ways to Have a "BE" (Bad Ending) with the Protagonist Gong [Quick Transmigration] - Chapter 1

“Guan Guan!”

The person on the bed suddenly strained his neck and cried out, his pale, thin hand reaching into the air as if trying to hold onto something.

In an instant, his chest convulsed violently. Black blood spilled continuously from his mouth, and his hand fell limply, like a snapped branch.

“San Lang! San Lang, don’t scare Mother like this—”

The woman cradled the young man, weeping uncontrollably.

Two clear tears welled up from the youth’s long eyes, trembling as they slid into his temples. His originally ink-black pupils had turned a faint, dull gray, slowly dilating and fading until they lost all luster, devoid of any sign of life.

The room was filled with people kneeling in silence.

The physicians looked at one another, not daring to utter a word. After a long while, one of the bolder ones spoke: “Please forgive my incompetence. Madam Xue, I fear your son’s illness… is beyond hope. I implore you and Grand Tutor Xue to grieve in moderation and take care of yourselves.”

Madam Xue clutched her chest, her eyes staring blankly. Upon hearing the words “beyond hope,” her vision went dark, and she collapsed.

Outside the room, chaos ensued.

Grand Tutor Xue paced back and forth in the front hall, shouting sternly: “I don’t care which academy or student he is; the first priority is to find him! At a time like this, which is more important: the reputation of the Xue family, or the life of your brother?”

“Father, it is not that I am unwilling.” Xue Congjian wore a bitter expression. “I fear the person Third Brother is looking for does not exist.”

Grand Tutor Xue frowned deeply: “How can that be! What kind of riddles are you brothers playing?”

Xue Congjian replied: “I have searched the entire capital, but found no trace of any family with the surname Qin. However, the servants reported two days ago that they found records of a fire at the Heng Garden in the North District twenty years ago, where several young entertainers perished. One of them was named… Qin Guan.”

“What are you implying?”

As if realizing something, Grand Tutor Xue’s eyes widened in horror.

Xue Congjian nodded slowly: “The State Preceptor in the palace said that Third Brother has encountered a ‘dark peach blossom’ (a ghostly romantic entanglement). That Qin Guan is not human at all.”

He paused, then added through gritted teeth: “He is a ghost.”

It had been raining in Liancheng for three months; the damp, gloomy mist clung to one’s skin, seemingly impossible to wash away.

Beneath the long pavilion in the deep courtyard, a fragile and thin figure sat in the corridor.

Xue Xue (Xue Xuening) gazed quietly at the lotus pond in the distance, which had been ruthlessly battered by the rain. A few droplets fell from the eaves of the pavilion, blown by the wind onto his face, leaving faint, wet traces on his pale, delicate skin.

Qingbao ran over from a distance, holding two oil-paper umbrellas.

“Third Young Master, why are you sitting here alone? The weather is damp and cold; if you catch a chill, Madam will be worried again.”

Xue Xuening smiled: “I am not that fragile. I was feeling stuffy indoors anyway, so I thought I’d come out for a bit.”

Qingbao turned to fetch a hand warmer from inside the room. Seeing his young master holding it and regaining a hint of color in his cheeks, he continued: “Madam said that Scholar Kong’s carriage collided with another, so he cannot teach today. You do not need to go to the Imperial Academy.”

Xue Xuening coughed twice, bowing his head: “I understand. Send some high-quality tonics to him. We shall resume lessons once the teacher has recovered.”

“Rest assured, Young Master, Madam has already prepared them.”

Xue Xuening looked toward the corridor and suddenly asked in a soft voice: “Who is that?”

Qingbao looked into the distance and saw a person on the stone path, looking down as if searching for something.

The person wore a dark blue long robe that was half-drenched and clung to his body, faintly outlining a youthful and graceful physique. Though not particularly tall, he had long legs and a slender waist; as he bent over, his shoulders and hips looked well-proportioned.

Qingbao did not recognize the person, but he did recognize the prominent Xue family jade token hanging from his waist.

“I heard that the Master invited scholars from humble families to the estate to view paintings today. He must be one of them. But why has he come to the Yingxue Study?”

Xue Xuening said: “Perhaps he has lost something. Go and help him look for it.”

Qingbao opened an oil-paper umbrella and stepped into the rain, bending down to search with the youth. They searched the flower beds, the grass, and even behind the rockery, but found nothing.

The sound of the rain drowned out their conversation. After the youth bowed from a distance toward where Xue Xuening was sitting, he left in a hurry.

“What did he lose?”

When Qingbao returned to the pavilion, he wiped the rain from his face: “I heard it was a handwritten collection of poetry. He said if it couldn’t be found, so be it; he has plenty more at home.”

Xue Xuening, a lover of books, frowned upon hearing this: “Ink and paper are delicate; they are ruined once they touch water. Send a few more people to look for it, and then deliver it to his residence later.”

“Yes.” Qingbao hurried back into the rain.

Xue Xuening suffered from a weak constitution and was plagued by chronic coldness. As a child, he was fed by a wet nurse, and as he grew, medicine became his daily diet. Often, he would have to bathe in medicinal soup halfway through his studies sometimes three or four times a day until his body naturally carried a lingering medicinal scent.

After sitting in the pavilion for a while, he felt a bone-chilling cold. He intended to go for a medicinal bath, but after only a few steps, a sudden gust of wind and rain blocked his path.

Xue Xuening quickly covered his face with his wide sleeve to avoid getting soaked. When he stepped forward again, he discovered an anonymous book rolling at his feet.

Before he could pick it up, the wind flipped through several pages. A short poem caught his eye, written in neat and beautiful handwriting:

“The wind whispers, the rain is thin and fine.

No wonder this spring melancholy grows ever more detailed.

The memory is unclear, I suspect it is but a dream,

And when the dream comes, it is separated by yet another curtain.”

In just a few lines, the poetic atmosphere was lingering and deep. It perfectly captured the cold, drizzling, deep-spring atmosphere of Liancheng.

Xue Xuening picked up the book and read it page by page. He was quickly entranced, losing track of how he returned to his room. It was not until the fifth-watch rooster crowed that he realized he had been awake all night.

This collection of poetry was a world unto itself, each word a pearl of wisdom. It left one completely infatuated, unable to bear finishing it.

He wondered who this talented scholar was. To be able to befriend him would truly be a great blessing in life.

Finally, he flipped to the last page and saw a small vermilion seal in the lower right corner with two characters—

Qin Guan.

In the study, the crowd had dispersed, leaving only two young men, one standing and one sitting.

“Xuening, why are you daydreaming in class today? I saw Scholar Liu look at you several times, but you didn’t react. It is fortunate it was you; if anyone else dared to daydream in class, they would surely be punished with a ruler.”

Xue Xuening lifted his eyelids, looking helpless: “I do not know why, but I could not settle my mind today.”

Xiao Ziyi stared at him for a long time, then suddenly tapped his palm with his fan and smiled mischievously: “I was wondering what was wrong. So, Third Young Master Xue is suffering from lovesickness.”

“Don’t talk nonsense.”

Xue Xuening’s expression hardened, and even the thin skin at his earlobes began to flush: “That person is a man; how could that be possible between us? I simply admire his talent.”

“Oh? Was I right, then?”

Xiao Ziyi raised an eyebrow: “Speaking of which, what if he is a man? A while ago, I went to drink at Heng Garden with Nanyu and Shubo; there are many beautiful male entertainers there, and I saw some with figures even more slender than women’s. Tomorrow, I shall take you there to see for yourself.”

Xue Xuening stiffened, then said coldly: “The books say that a gentleman should be calm in self-cultivation and frugal in virtue. If the teachers find out that you go to such places to fool around, you will surely be punished.”

Xiao Ziyi laughed instead of being afraid: “The books also say that a gentleman cannot avoid the worries of the body and mind, nor can he fail to indulge in the pleasures of the moon and wind. Xuening, you are too pure and earnest; you are missing out on the joys of life.”

Xue Xuening said nothing and simply tidied his brushes and paper.

Seeing that he was genuinely angry, Xiao Ziyi coaxed him: “Alright, alright, if you don’t like it, I won’t mention it. But I am truly curious. This capital is neither too big nor too small. There are many talented scholars, but those who can catch your eye are few and far between. May I ask who this famous master is?”

This was true. Grand Tutor Xue was the teacher of the Emperor, and Madam Xue was a woman of exceptional talent. As the youngest son, Xue Xuening could recognize a thousand characters by age three, write poetry by age five, and independently explain the Five Classics by age twelve. His essay, “Su Shu,” moved the world, and he entered the Imperial Academy as the top talent in the capital.

Such a proud son of heaven, always standing at the pinnacle looking down at the mountains—when had he ever truly taken someone to heart?

Recalling the person in the rain, Xue Xuening’s heart moved, and his expression softened: “He is about my age and dresses very simply. He should be a scholar from a humble family. I believe his name is… Qin Guan. I am not entirely sure; I only saw him from afar once before and read one of his poetry collections.”

Xiao Ziyi became interested: “Among scholars of your age from humble backgrounds, there is such a hidden pearl? I will ask my father to look into it; we must get to know him.”

Hearing this, Xue Xuening regretted letting the name slip, but it was too late. He gave a vague reply and prepared to return home.

Having been awake all night and enduring a full day of lessons, he was exhausted after his bath in the evening and soon fell into a deep sleep.

Little did he know that in his sleep, he would meet that young man once again.