The System Forces Me to Be a Scumbag Male Lead [Quick Transmigration] - Chapter 3

Yuan Linfei led Shen Siyang out of the Ge family’s courtyard.

Once they were far enough away and the surroundings were clear of prying eyes and ears, she folded her arms across her chest and looked down at him. “Alright, let’s hear it. What happened?”

Just as Shen Siyang opened his mouth to explain, a tiny figure swooped out from the side, catching up to them at a breathless sprint.

It was Sang Xiaoshi, panting heavily. “I, I. Brother Si-Siyang, he, he.”

“He was being bullied,” Shen Siyang jumped in to finish the sentence for him, saving the boy from his stutter. “Your son here acted righteously, jumped into the fray, traded a few swift blows, and took two punches for the team.”

Yuan Linfei shot him a look, then turned to Sang Xiaoshi. “Is that true?”

Sang Xiaoshi nodded vigorously.

Yuan Linfei looked back at her son. “Well, aren’t you just a little hero?”

Shen Siyang dismissed it with a wave of his hand, completely shameless. “Ah, it was nothing. Just a walk in the park.”

Knowing exactly what her son was like, Yuan Linfei didn’t indulge his bragging. Instead, she pointed at the Transformer in his arms. “That toy looks expensive. Once the dust settles in a few days, find a way to return it to them.”

“I know,” Shen Siyang replied. He hadn’t kept the toy because he actually wanted it anyway.

With that settled, Yuan Linfei turned her attention away from her son and looked down at Sang Xiaoshi. After studying him for a brief moment, she offered a warm, gentle smile. “You’re the little boy who lives next door to the Ge family, right?”

Sang Xiaoshi gave an obedient nod.

“Have you eaten lunch yet?”

He nodded again.

“Then why don’t you come over to our house and play with Brother Siyang? It’s terribly hot outside in the middle of summer. I’ll have Siyang turn on the fan, you two can watch some television, and we even have popsicles in the freezer.”

Sang Xiaoshi blinked, shifting his gaze toward Shen Siyang.

Shen Siyang grinned, throwing an arm over the boy’s shoulders. “Come on, let’s go get some popsicles!”

Shen Siyang pulled open the refrigerator door and caught sight of the cheap, twenty-cent flavored ice pops that he hadn’t seen in years.

He hadn’t really come across these since entering university, and a wave of pure nostalgia washed over him. He grabbed one, tore open the plastic wrapper with his teeth, and popped it into his mouth. After rummaging through the freezer for a bit longer, he fished out a premium Cornetto drumstick cone and handed it to Sang Xiaoshi.

Sang Xiaoshi didn’t take it right away. He stared at the drumstick cone in his hand, then shifted his eyes uneasily toward the cheap ice pop dangling from Shen Siyang’s mouth.

Without a word, Shen Siyang closed the fridge and shoved the cone into the boy’s hands. “You’re cute. You get the good stuff.”

As the cold ice cream pressed against his palm, Sang Xiaoshi’s fingers curled slightly around it. He didn’t push back anymore, offering a soft, earnest, “Thank you.”

Shen Siyang led him down the hallway toward his bedroom.

Along the way, he couldn’t help but marvel internally. It wasn’t just his own personality, looks, and parents that had remained intact; even the layout of this house was a carbon copy of the one he had lived in as a child.

Entering the room, he relied on muscle memory to locate the TV remote. When he turned around, he noticed Sang Xiaoshi was still holding the Cornetto, completely untouched.

“Why aren’t you eating?” He asked.

Sang Xiaoshi tilted his head up slightly, pointing a delicate finger at the split corner of Shen Siyang’s mouth.

Shen Siyang chuckled. “This is seriously nothing. It’ll be gone in a couple of days.”

Sang Xiaoshi bit his lower lip nervously, slowly squeezing out a few words: “The photoshoot. I’m, I’m sorry.”

Shen Siyang blinked in surprise before realizing the boy was referring to the story his mother had spun back at the Ge courtyard.

He quickly clarified, “Oh, there is no photoshoot! My mom totally made that up to bluff them. If she hadn’t, Ge Jiabao’s toy is so expensive that his mom would have never let me walk out the door with it.”

Sang Xiaoshi was visibly stunned. He froze for a long moment before nodding with a look of pure, innocent wonder.

Seeing how much the boy resembled a clumsy, clueless puppy, Shen Siyang’s heart melted a little. He reached out, took the Cornetto back, peeled off half of the paper wrapper, and handed it back.

“Eat up before it melts. Those three only apologized to me today, but they still owe you an apology. It’s just not the right time yet. But mark my words, there will come a day when they apologize to you from the bottom of their hearts.”

With that, he gave Sang Xiaoshi’s head a rough, affectionate pat, then turned around to fiddle with the television.

“What cartoon do you want to watch? Let’s see what’s even broadcasting at this hour.”

Shen Siyang mumbled to himself for a while, but noticing a total lack of response from behind, he picked a random channel and turned around to look at the boy.

The moment he turned, he locked eyes with Sang Xiaoshi, who was staring at him with unblinking intensity.

Shen Siyang couldn’t help but laugh. “Why are you staring at me like that?”

Just as Sang Xiaoshi opened his mouth to speak, Shen Siyang pointed at his hand. “Quick, eat! It’s dripping!”

Startled, Sang Xiaoshi hurriedly licked away the melting ice cream.

It was cantaloupe flavored.

As the cool, creamy sweetness dissolved on his tongue, Sang Xiaoshi blinked his large, grape-like eyes. When he spoke, his voice was as soft and gentle as the melting ice cream.

“Brother Siyang, today, you’re a little different.”

Shen Siyang paused. “Different how?”

Sang Xiaoshi pursed his lips. “Before, you didn’t talk to me.”

The boy lowered his gaze as he spoke, his long eyelashes fluttering slightly, unable to hide his nervous vulnerability.

Looking at the child’s small, thin face, Shen Siyang felt a faint ache in his chest. He reached out, placed his hand on the boy’s head, and smiled. “That’s because the me today is a limited-edition version.”

Sang Xiaoshi looked up, utterly bewildered. “What’s a limited edition?”

Shen Siyang shifted the remaining half of his ice pop to his left cheek, pondered the question for a moment, and then let out a brilliant smile. “It means I came here specifically for you.”

Sang Xiaoshi froze entirely. For a moment, it seemed as though he forgot how to make a facial expression or move a muscle, completely captivated by Shen Siyang.

Slowly, a bright flush crept up his cheeks, remaining there until the ice cream in his hand started to drip again, forcing him to eat it at Shen Siyang’s prompting.

Swallowing another cool, cantaloupe-flavored bite, he seemed to gather every ounce of his courage and whispered, “Then tomorrow, tomorrow, can you still be limited edition?”

Meeting the boy’s piercingly earnest gaze, Shen Siyang didn’t answer immediately.

He bit off a chunk of his ice pop, swallowing it whole without chewing. The frozen shard slid down his esophagus, spreading a sharp chill straight to his heart.

“Come find me tomorrow morning,” he said softly. “And you’ll find out.”

Shen Siyang sent Sang Xiaoshi home right before dinner.

After finishing his meal, he accompanied his parents, Ms. Yuan Linfei and Mr. Shen Shiwu, for a half-hour stroll around the neighborhood. Once they returned home, he lay flat on his back in his bedroom, attempting to initiate a conversation with the mechanical voice inside his head.

However, no matter how many questions he asked, his mind remained dead silent. It was so quiet that he began to question whether the mechanical voice had just been a vivid auditory hallucination.

It wasn’t until he recalled the task given to him that afternoon that he tried a different approach.

“You said that if I want to live again in the real world, I have to provide care and support to the protagonists of ten different worlds, and then cruelly cast them aside at the right moment to trigger their growth. What happens if I refuse to do what you say? What are the consequences?”

This time, after a brief burst of static and a sharp zzzt, the mechanical voice finally manifested.

“Task failure results in permanent death.”

Shen Siyang fell silent for a moment. “What specific method constitutes ‘cruelly casting them aside’? Am I supposed to cut ties with him in the future? Become bitter enemies? Or turn around and stab him in the back?”

“The system will calculate the optimal strategy in real-time, based on the evolving circumstances.”

Shen Siyang pondered this. “When exactly am I supposed to execute this ‘abandonment’? And what happens afterward? Do I stay in this world, or do I immediately transfer to the next one? Based on what you said, I assume I’m supposed to visit ten entirely independent worlds, right?”

He fired off several questions in quick succession, only to hear another burst of static. The mechanical voice delivered the exact same automated response:

“The system will calculate the optimal strategy in real-time, based on the evolving circumstances.”

Shen Siyang came to a preliminary conclusion: this thing was essentially a primitive AI customer service bot. It would only trigger a response if he hit specific keywords. Furthermore, it seemed to be a rudimentary program where multiple keyword groups were mapped to a single, blanket answer. Short version—beyond the basic parameters of the mission, it likely knew absolutely nothing.

At this stage, Shen Siyang still couldn’t fully confirm whether this world was a simulation or reality. But if he woke up tomorrow morning and found himself still trapped in this seven-year-old body, it would be a safe bet that everything was real.

Resting his head against his laced fingers, he stared at the ceiling and thought about his current state of affairs back in the real world. Surprisingly, he didn’t feel an overwhelming sense of dread.

While he was an only child, his parents were profoundly in love with each other; he had always joked that he was just a promotional giveaway that came with their marriage. If he unfortunately passed away, they would certainly grieve, but it wouldn’t be a tragedy so catastrophic that it would destroy their lives entirely.

As for his romantic life, let alone a partner, he hadn’t even harbored a single crush throughout his twenty-five years of existence. So, he had absolutely zero baggage in that department.

And his friends? If those degenerates remembered to burn some joss paper for him every year during the Qingming Festival, he would count his blessings.

As his thoughts drifted, a wave of exhaustion washed over him.

Shen Siyang let out a long yawn and pulled the thin summer blanket over himself, preparing to sleep. He had just closed his eyes when they suddenly snapped open again. Deciding to give it one final shot, he asked internally:

“In standard web novels and TV dramas, shouldn’t a transmigration mission like this provide a detailed dossier of the plot surrounding the protagonist?”

This line of inquiry successfully triggered a keyword. The mechanical voice resonated clearly in his mind.

“This is not a fictional story world. No individual possesses a predetermined path or a fixed destiny. Sang Xiaoshi has been designated as the protagonist solely because his inherent talent and potential align with the system’s criteria for selection.”

“Oh.” Shen Siyang didn’t particularly mind the lack of information. He had only asked on a whim anyway. Compared to what Sang Xiaoshi’s future held, he was far more invested in discovering what the boy had actually endured up to this point. “But you can at least give me a record of Sang Xiaoshi’s past experiences, right?”

The mechanical voice manifested once more:

“Host is required to explore and discover this information independently.”

Figures, Shen Siyang thought, confirming his suspicion. It really knows absolutely nothing.

Deciding it wasn’t worth asking anything else, he bundled himself up in his blanket, pulled it over his head, closed his eyes, and drifted back to sleep.

However, just as he was about to enter dreamland and greet the God of Sleep, a sudden tapping sound against his window pane dragged him right back out.

Drowsy and disoriented, Shen Siyang listened closely. Someone was throwing pebbles at his window.

With a strong inkling of who it might be, he tossed aside his blanket, got out of bed, and pushed the window open. Sure enough, an absolutely infuriated Ge Jiabao was standing below.

Shen Siyang’s bedroom was on the second floor.

Unable to reach the window, Ge Jiabao could only stand atop his family’s low brick wall, baring his teeth and grimacing up at him.

Having just endured a severe lecturing all evening, Ge Jiabao was still somewhat cautious. Since the lights were still on in the surrounding houses at this hour, he didn’t dare shout. He could only hurl a muffled, aggressive whisper up at Shen Siyang: “My Bumblebee! Give it back!”

Shen Siyang leaned out and splayed his hands, a mocking grin plastered across his face. “Nope.”

Ge Jiabao’s face instantly flushed a violent crimson. He raised a jagged stone in his hand, preparing to pelt it straight at Shen Siyang.

Shen Siyang spoke up before the boy could throw it. “Go ahead. Throw it as hard as you can.”

He tapped his own head. “Hit me here, and Bumblebee loses his head.”

He tapped his arm. “Hit me here, and Bumblebee snaps an arm.”

Finally, he pointed at his leg. “Hit me here, and Bumblebee breaks a leg.”

With a brilliant, mocking smile, he looked down at Ge Jiabao. “Plenty of options. Take your pick.”

Young Ge Jiabao had clearly never encountered this level of shamelessness in his short life. He stood there, face burning red, glaring at Shen Siyang for a long time. With a frustrated roar, he slammed the pebbles down onto the ground and made a final, desperate compromise: “What do I have to do for you to give it back to me?”

Shen Siyang leaned his forearms against the windowsill, crossing them casually. After a moment of quiet calculation, he asked, “Why were you guys talking about Sang Xiaoshi like that today?”

A look of deep distaste flashed across Ge Jiabao’s face. “What is there to say about that little stutterer?”

Shen Siyang let out a dry chuckle. “Are you going to tell me, you big fatty, or what?”

Ge Jiabao’s eyes widened in utter disbelief. “What did you just call me?”

“Big. Fatty. Was that clear enough for you?”

“What right do you have to call me a big fatty?”

“If you can call Xiaoshi a little stutterer, why can’t I call you a big fatty?”

“But he is a stutterer!”

“Ha! And you happen to be a bona-fide, short-legged big fatty.”

“Everyone else! Everyone else calls him that too!”

“Oh, I see. So, if the whole town started calling you a short-legged big fatty, you’d bare those big white teeth of yours and be genuinely thrilled about it?”

Choked with rage and completely outmatched in a war of words, Ge Jiabao spun around, ready to storm off in a huff.

Shen Siyang’s voice drifted down lazily, light as a feather: “Don’t want your Bumblebee anymore?”

Ge Jiabao froze in his tracks. His chest heaved violently for a long time before he finally spoke through clenched teeth.

“He doesn’t even have a mom or a dad! He lives with his aunt and uncle. And saying he fights with dogs for food is just facts—I saw it with my own eyes! From my house on the second floor, I looked over and saw his aunt and uncle eating at the dining table in their living room, while he was crouching in the corner with his bowl, eating right next to their big German Shepherd.”

As he listened to Ge Jiabao’s words, the playful expression completely vanished from Shen Siyang’s face, turning dark and cold.

Oblivious to the shift in atmosphere, Ge Jiabao immediately demanded, “I told you what you wanted to know. Can you give me back my Bumblebee now?”

Shen Siyang snapped back to reality. “I’ll give it back.”

A look of pure joy erupted on Ge Jiabao’s face, but before he could celebrate, Shen Siyang added, “Just not right now.”

“How can you be so unfair?” Ge Jiabao seethed.

“I never said I’d return it the second you told me, did I?” Shen Siyang chuckled softly.

Ge Jiabao gnashed his teeth so hard they nearly shattered. “Then when exactly are you going to give it back?”

“When you stop calling him ‘the little stutterer’ and start calling him by his name.”

Ge Jiabao was incredibly reluctant, but after weighing his options for a brief moment, he grumbled, “Fine. Give it to me now, and I’ll only call him by his name from now on.”

Shen Siyang rested both hands on the windowsill, looking down at the child standing on the low wall.

He stripped away every ounce of his playful, teasing demeanor. Looking directly at Ge Jiabao, his tone became entirely serious.

“I don’t mean calling him by his name just because you want your Bumblebee back. I mean the day you genuinely, from the bottom of your heart, want to call him Sang Xiaoshi.”

“When that day comes, I will return it to you myself.”

With a final wave of his hand, he pulled the window shut, leaving Ge Jiabao outside in the dark.