Transmigration: The Straight-Man Prince Was Driven Crazy by My Overachieving - Chapter 2

Unable to think about it any longer, Shen Shangling quickly soaked himself in the large wooden tub after taking off his clothes. The water temperature was slightly hot, but it felt very comfortable in this freezing weather.

Thinking of this sudden, unexpected transmigration, he closed his eyes, held his breath, and plunged his head under the water, wishing he could bury himself completely. It was simply too much to think about. A “salted fish” (slacker) wants to hide from the world.

Because in this book, the melodramatic elements didn’t stop at the Prince of Dingbei, Lu Xiao, being reborn; there were even more divine plot developments afterward.

After the Prince of Dingbei was reborn, he tormented this male concubine in every possible way. Yet, later on, when Lu Xiao sentenced this male concubine to castration a fate worse than death—the man miraculously ended up attracting the Prince’s disabled sister! That gloomy, ghost-like figure, Lu Qinglin.

After all sorts of melodramatic twists and turns, the Prince of Dingbei eventually killed the foolish monarch, usurped the throne, and ascended to power. Meanwhile, the male concubine who had become a eunuch—followed the Prince’s disabled sister into seclusion in the mountains, leading to a “happily ever after” ending.

Who could believe such a melodramatic book existed in the world? And he had foolishly transmigrated right into it.

Fortunately, according to the information the system had revealed before it crashed that afternoon, the system’s task wasn’t to force him to follow the plot. Otherwise, it would have been impossible to complete. He was afraid of pain, and if he were to be tormented by the Prince of Dingbei with such cruel punishments especially that fatal castration later on—he figured he would likely die of pain halfway through.

But what exactly was the system’s task?

Just then, a “beep” sounded in Shen Shangling’s mind.

Splashing—

He immediately surfaced, gasping for air, and calmed himself down. “System, System?”

The system responded quickly. Its voice was milky and cute, like a child who had just woken up. Fortunately, despite the babyish tone, its speech was clear and concise, and it quickly explained the objective of this transmigration task.

“System,” Shen Shangling said after listening, “you just said that according to your calculations, as long as I obtain a piece of the Prince of Dingbei’s ‘Qi’ (Fortune) product, you can obtain a ‘Meta-Core’ from it, and that would complete my mission, right?”

“Yes, Host.” The milky voice sounded a little excited and jubilant.

Shen Shangling’s heart skipped a beat. If he could complete the mission while the Prince hadn’t yet been reborn and was still treating the original owner as a teacher and friend, wouldn’t everything be fine?

“What is that item?” he asked, steadying his mind. “What does it look like? Is it jade? Metal? Or his hair, or something else?” He was ready to give it his all; he’d even risk stealing the Prince’s underwear if he had to.

“It’s hard to determine,” the system said, sounding timid.

Shen Shangling: “…” Could you repeat that?

Fortunately, with his easy-going temperament, although he was going crazy inside, he didn’t manifest much manic behavior.

“Why is it hard to determine?” Shen Shangling asked, his eyes growing sore from anxiety, yet he still tried to coax it gently. “There must be a range, right? A hint? Otherwise, how am I supposed to get it? Get what?”

“Y-y-you, if you keep asking, I’ll crash again, ooh~” The system was shy, yet a bit aggressively cute, its voice filled with guilt.

Shen Shangling: “…” He took a deep breath and closed his eyes.

“You… you’re a system, aren’t you?” Shen Shangling asked, quietly questioning it.

“Systems and systems are different,” the system said, feeling wronged. “Just like hosts and hosts are different… you and I both belong to the ‘waste’… we both belong to ‘special geniuses,’ so we are quite compatible.” As it said this, it sounded like it was trying to console him. “Don’t worry, we’ll look for it slowly; I’ll try to sense it over time.”

Shen Shangling: “…”

“Then what abilities do you have?” After a silence, Shen Shangling’s eyes lit up as he asked eagerly, “Technological style? Miraculous doctor style? Spatial style? Or some other cheat? You have something, right?”

“I have some,” the system said in a tiny voice. “But not the ones you mentioned; those were all picked by systems from other worlds, ooh~”

Shen Shangling: “…” Wait, you mean your cheats are the leftovers after other systems picked theirs?

The system sounded faint: “…I don’t care, I won’t fight them for it.”

Shen Shangling: “…”

“Then what exactly is your ability?” Shen Shangling asked, being very gentle when pushed to the limit. “Tell me about it?”

“An immature ‘Spirit-Transformation’ System,” the system said in its milky voice.

“Immature?” Shen Shangling chewed on the implications of the word “immature.” What the hell? This seems wrong.

“It’s not a mature product,” the system explained earnestly. “The efficacy is uncertain, and the side effects are uncertain.”

Shen Shangling: “…”

“This…” He wiped his face, sorrow welling up inside him. Instead, he smiled—though it was a rather ugly smile. “With such a junk system, how dare you accept this mission?”

“All the other missions were picked first,” the system said, sounding miffed. “I’m not fighting them.”

Shen Shangling: “…” I understand now it’s a fellow ‘salted fish.’ My retribution as an old ‘salted fish’ has arrived.

“Tell me about this ‘Spirit-Transformation’ system,” Shen Shangling resigned himself, holding onto a sliver of hope. “What can it actually do?”

The system seemed to perk up and quickly explained it to him.

After listening, Shen Shangling was silent for a while. How should he put it? This system’s ability seemed a bit obscure. Specifically, it had two directions.

First, he could select an animal in this world to “spiritually transform.” In plain terms, it would make the animal more human-like, form an intimate bond with him, and allow it to be used for his own purposes. But he couldn’t choose just any animal; he had to wait for the system to start the program and “spiritually transform” the first animal he saw. Of course, he could stand right next to a specific animal beforehand so that when the system started, he would instantly lock onto it. So that wasn’t a big problem.

However… considering the ability of this first direction, Shen Shangling sat in the tub, feeling an unspeakable sense of frustration: It seems a bit useless. What kind of animal could he get? A dog? A cat? A bird? Even if he got a tiger… in front of the Prince of Dingbei, the “God of War,” that would just be a one-shot kill. Not to mention the estate guards weren’t just for show they were all fierce, battle-hardened warriors who had killed countless enemies on the battlefield.

Second, the system’s program could conditionally transform him, the host. This type of transformation would enhance the vitality of every cell in his body and promote regeneration. Its greatest use was self-healing. But the fatal part was that in order to start the system’s self-healing, he would have to endure at least double the pain of the original injury. For instance, if he were cut by a knife, the system could make him heal quickly, but at the same time, for a certain period, his arm would feel at least twice as painful as the original cut. He had been afraid of pain since he was a child! He could tremble just thinking about this ability. He hoped he would never have to use it!

Besides, did these two abilities have anything to do with the mission objective? They seemed completely unrelated!

“Just these two?” After pondering these two abilities, Shen Shangling said, feeling unwilling, “Nothing else?”

“These are the two main confirmed directions,” the system explained hurriedly. “However, according to my calculations, there should be derivative directions for each.”

“For example?” Shen Shangling pursued.

“Once the host spiritually transforms a target animal, the animal’s image will become exceptionally vivid in your mind,” the system whispered. “So, if the host paints this animal, I speculate that it should be exceptionally lifelike! Or there might be other derivative abilities.”

Shen Shangling: “…” Does he have to rely on painting dogs or cats for the God of War to save his life? That was absurd and useless.

“Also,” the system, perhaps sensing Shen Shangling’s disappointment, added in a tiny voice, “when spiritually transforming the host, I speculate it should not only affect the body, but also the brain.”

“What does that mean?” Shen Shangling asked, his tone flat and devoid of hope. “Will it make me smarter?”

“During the transformation, it might trigger a brief instance of ‘hyperthymesia’ (super-memory), but it would be limited to memories from before the host transmigrated.”

Shen Shangling was stunned. He had heard of hyperthymesia—an inability to forget, where one remembers their life experiences with perfect clarity, down to every single detail. That meant that whatever he wanted to recall, as long as it was something he had experienced in his original world, he could remember it perfectly. That included knowledge he had learned in school, or craft videos he had watched… as long as he wanted to, could he use this transformation to recall them?

Shen Shangling didn’t know what to make of this ability. He felt the same way—it didn’t seem particularly useful.

As he thought this, Shen Shangling sighed in disappointment and reached up to rub his face. It was itchy. He ended up with a handful of black, murky gunk. Only then did he remember it was the ointment the original owner had pasted on his face, which had already dried. Now that it had dissolved in the hot water, it released a foul odor.

Shen Shangling couldn’t stand the smell. He thought for a moment; it seemed the book mentioned that when the original owner was first brought back to the Prince’s estate as a male concubine, fearing the Prince would really do something to him, he had intentionally applied black ointment to a small scratch on his face, even though it had long since healed.

Not wanting to get the ointment into his bathwater, he reached out to grab one of the silk towels hanging on the nearby rack.

Knock, knock.

Before his hand could even touch the silk, he heard a gentle knock at the door. Immediately following, a clear, mellow voice came from outside: “Master?”

Shen Shangling felt a jolt inside. Who is it?

As soon as he spoke, realizing the possible identity of the visitor, his hand holding the towel trembled slightly. It’s here. The Prince of Dingbei, Lu Xiao, has arrived!

“It is I,” Lu Xiao’s voice held a trace of imperceptible confusion. After a pause, he softened his tone slightly, “Is Master feeling better today?”

“Better…” Shen Shangling resisted the urge to let his voice tremble. After transmigrating, he didn’t have the original owner’s memories. He only had the rough outline of the script he had skimmed before, and the system only knew that script; it wouldn’t have the specific memories of the original owner’s speech and behavior either. He had no idea how to mimic the original owner’s pretentious, scholarly way of speaking.

In this moment of hesitation, Shen Shangling lost his balance. As he swayed, he subconsciously reached out to steady himself on the delicate rack, causing it to crash with a loud clatter.

“Master?” Lu Xiao’s voice sank abruptly.

With that sudden sinking of his voice, an indescribable sense of deterrent solemnity seemed to sweep through the crack in the door. Shen Shangling felt a chill of fear and tried to call the system, but the system… seemed to be frozen again.

Shen Shangling: “…”

Take a deep breath, relax, relax. The Prince of Dingbei has no ill intent toward him yet.

“Wait a moment,” Shen Shangling said, steadying his mind. “I’ll be right out”

As he spoke, he quickly wiped his face with the towel, stood up, dried himself, grabbed the clean clothes from the sandalwood rack, and put them on in a bit of a panic.

“Is there something you need, My Lord?”

After a long while, he walked over to open the door. Fearing that the Prince of Dingbei might be getting angry from waiting, Shen Shangling quickly explained, “I was just… taking a bath.” I didn’t mean to open the door late.

Outside the door, Lu Xiao paused abruptly. Shen Shangling’s voice was gentle and clear, in a way he had never heard before; in fact, it even… sounded a bit cautious.

His gaze fell upon the man before him: the man had wet, disheveled hair, and his clothes were worn in a rather messy manner, lacking his usual refined, arrogant, and cold demeanor. The ointment on his face had been washed away, revealing the familiar face of the past.

However… Lu Xiao squinted slightly. By the light of the corridor, he noticed that there was a small red mole just under the corner of Shen Shangling’s eye. Perhaps it was because of this little mole that the man lacked his usual stiff, dead-like feeling, and instead, strangely, possessed an air of liveliness he had never seen before.