Chapter 3: That Reckless, Immature, and Arrogant Dandy from Chapter One—His Greatest Hobbies Were Nothing More Than Smoking, Drinking, Racing Cars, and Chasing Beauties.

Ten years—how could a decade’s span make him like two different people?

His vision blurred, his eyes spun, waves of blackness assaulted him, and with the dim lighting in the private room, there was little difference between eyes open or closed. It was impossible to distinguish reality.

“Hiss.” Bai Chen Zhu steadied his forehead, taking quite some effort to recover and stand firm, shaking off that bout of dizziness.

“Chen Zhu, don’t push yourself. He’s just scaring you—how could he possibly chop off your hand?” Wang Xin Xin looked at him with difficulty.

It was fine when she didn’t speak, but the moment she did, Jiang Ye immediately had someone fetch a knife, slamming it down on the table with a clang, making his stance clear.

With a group of young masters in front and the manager plus servers behind, he was in a bind, unable to back down. Amid the jeering urgings, Bai Chen Zhu slowly picked up a glass of liquor, brushed off the dirty footprints on his chest, straightened his posture, and walked unhurriedly toward the sofa.

Jiang Ye, growing impatient from the wait, raised a brow, thinking this weakling of a sickly pretty boy was nothing special—even picking a fight with him felt like a waste of time.

But so what? Jiang Ye reconsidered; you couldn’t buy a beauty’s smile for a thousand gold, and Wang Xin Xin’s duplicitous demeanor piqued his interest.

He liked interesting people.

Drawing near, Bai Chen Zhu held the wine glass and stood before Jiang Ye and Wang Xin Xin.

Jiang Ye assumed he was there to apologize with a toast, so he curled his lips and lifted his chin. Though looking up, his eyes brimmed with contempt. Wang Xin Xin wore a face full of worry, laced with unspoken affection.

Under everyone’s gaze, Bai Chen Zhu’s expression remained indifferent as he poured the wine over their heads like watering flowers. The golden liquor cascaded from their hair, drenching their clothes in a pathetic mess.

The room fell into dead silence, so quiet that even breaths were barely audible.

Shocked or vicious stares converged on the young man in white shirt and black pants.

As if oblivious to the burning gazes around him, Bai Chen Zhu tilted his head and spoke his first words since transmigrating: “Apology—satisfied?”

The tone of those five words barely fluctuated, and it was precisely this indifference that amplified the sarcasm.

Bai Chen Zhu let go, and the wine glass shattered on the carpet. A mocking arc hooked at his lips—a silent provocation.

Jiang Ye abruptly sat up straight, glaring deathly at the culprit, his arm muscles tensing with strain. He shook off the liquor from his forehead, his eyes reddening from the stinging alcohol.

Before Jiang Ye could erupt, Bai Chen Zhu picked up the fruit knife, idly toying with it, the blade flashing dazzlingly. In the next second, his eyes gleamed, and amid a chorus of screams, he plunged it with full fury—fast, accurate, and ruthless—into the sofa armrest right beside Jiang Ye’s right hand.

The icy blade pressed against the unharmed arm. Jiang Ye, who had just threatened to chop off Bai Chen Zhu’s hand, shuddered uncontrollably, his heart pounding as if it would leap from his throat. He stared at Bai Chen Zhu, his throat glued shut, unable to utter a word.

From start to finish, Bai Chen Zhu’s gaze, looking down at him, remained eerily calm—like the most composed madman, with abyssal black eyes concealing turbulent waves that could engulf everything.

Clutching his scorching, racing heart, Jiang Ye had no doubt this man had truly meant to stab the knife into his palm moments ago. A fierce light ignited in his sinister eyes, and he abruptly shoved the woman in his arms aside, his brows darkening as he moved to stand.

By then, Bai Chen Zhu had already turned, bending to lift the Chinese-style wooden table laden with drinks. The table was somewhat heavy; after raising it a few centimeters, he paused, then flung it aside with a heave!

Amid even shriller screams, glasses shattered everywhere with pings and clangs, fragments scattering.

The room wasn’t large, and with dim lights, people around the sofas and the servers dodged the splashing liquor and glass shards by trampling over each other, squeezing into a chaotic mess.

“Bai! Chen! Zhu!”

Amid the low roar, Bai Chen Zhu paused mid-escape through the crowd but then resolutely stepped out the door. In that instant of crossing the threshold, it felt as if something in the void had changed.

Bai Chen Zhu sensed his soul breaking free from some shackle—like surfacing from suffocating depths, greedily breathing fresh air and grasping the hope to live.

He frowned slightly, pondering as he elegantly wiped his fair palms with a napkin, then pressed the elevator button.

In the chaotic room, the manager kept apologizing, his cronies cursed the departed man, Wang Xin Xin took the chance to slip away… The farce, bereft of its protagonist, dragged on annoyingly.

Standing in the room’s center, Jiang Ye’s expression shifted subtly, fists clenching, face darkening.

Without question, he was proud and would never allow a sickly pretty boy to climb over him. He was also arrogant—revenge on the spot, vent anger immediately.

An inexplicable reckless impulse surged in Jiang Ye’s mind, howling to drag that arrogant fool into the mud.

Right here! Right now!

Jiang Ye opened his sharp, blazing eyes and changed his mind. He shoved aside those blocking him, his long legs quickening until he charged out the door.

The elevator doors were about to close, but through the narrowing gap, Bai Chen Zhu saw Jiang Ye’s steps accelerating, finally sprinting straight at him.

Jiang Ye, Bai Chen Zhu silently mulled the two words. ‘The male lead, huh.’

Far from rushing to hug the golden thigh, he seemed intent on stoking the hatred further, slowly raising his right hand and, in Jiang Ye’s rage-filled glare, flipping up his middle finger.

Jiang Ye’s eyes burned with murderous intent. Bai Chen Zhu, playing with fire, arched a brow, his sharp phoenix eyes radiating silent provocation.

Bai Chen Zhu admitted he harbored full resentment toward the male lead. Since he’d already thoroughly offended him in a fit of impulse, even kneeling and kowtowing now wouldn’t earn Jiang Ye’s forgiveness.

So… screw it, vent first! This world’s darling wasn’t yet the ‘War God’ of ten years later—what did he have to fear?

A broad, powerful hand suddenly shot through the gap, wrenching the elevator doors apart, veins bulging on the back to display raw strength.

Through the widening gap, Bai Chen Zhu’s eyes flickered, his cold gaze landing on the liquor-soaked Jiang Ye.

Jiang Ye’s facial contours were sharp and aggressive, screaming playboy arrogance at first glance.

Now, he glared ferociously at the man in the elevator like a wild wolf, grinding his teeth yet abruptly grinning. “Run? You think you can escape?”

In all his life, he’d met nobles who scorned him, and sycophants who fawned, but never someone of humble origins like Bai Chen Zhu who dared humiliate him to his face.

Good, very good, perfect. He liked interesting things—especially watching them broken and humiliated.

Trouble incoming. Bai Chen Zhu brushed the footprints off his shirt front, his gaze naturally drifting past Jiang Ye’s shoulder to the rear, feigning confusion. “Wang Xin Xin?”

Jiang Ye reflexively turned to look, only to feel a sharp pain in his chest. He watched himself stagger back over a meter, crashing ass-first onto the carpet.

“You dare play dirty!” Jiang Ye propped himself up with one hand and rose, staring at Bai Chen Zhu who had retracted his foot, fury and shock mixing. He’d never suffered repeated setbacks from one person like this.

Bai Chen Zhu, pressing the close button, curved his lips in a fleshless smile, his gaze falling contentedly on the fresh footprint marring Jiang Ye’s floral shirt.

His thin lips parted lightly. “Just returning the favor.”

Liquor, knife, footprints—all returned.

This time, the elevator doors closed smoothly.

Bai Chen Zhu quietly watched the red numbers count down from 15.

The reflection in the steel doors showed a refined, moon-like handsome face. Yet pale as it was, it made him seem fragile from a severe illness, accentuating the tear mole at his right eye corner, now strikingly vivid.

He’d seen this face for nearly thirty years. What rippled in Bai Chen Zhu’s heart was the delicate hollow ginkgo leaf earring on his left ear.

Identical to the one he always wore!

Its familiarity meant he hadn’t noticed the weight at his earlobe right away.

How? Bai Chen Zhu’s heart pounded like a drum. He touched his left ear, lips trembling before pressing them together. His pitch-black eyes surged with the night’s thickest emotions, threatening to swallow him whole.

When fake becomes real, real becomes fake. He closed his eyes, carefully pinching the ginkgo leaf, his heart churning like ocean waves battering his reason.

After a long while, Bai Chen Zhu exhaled stale breath. Staring at the reflection, he traced its outline in the air thoughtfully: Not only did the earring come with him, but the people in the book share not just names with me—even appearances are the same?

With so many illogical things, doubts about the body seemed trivial.

He leisurely removed the ill-fitting vest, tossing it aside in the elevator. He undid the silly tie at his throat, flinging it onto the vest, loosened his too-tight collar, and finally breathed freely from his chest.

No matter what, he was alive again.

Once the doors opened, he strode out with long legs, slipping away from the bustling complex before others reacted.

Outside was pitch black, only private cars passing by. After a few meters, he patted his pocket, pulling a phone from his pants.

Bai Chen Zhu figured out how to call a ride. The worldview of the book’s author was based on his original world, so much common knowledge transferred.

While waiting, he sat on a plastic chair at a roadside barbecue stall, staring blankly at the streetlamp.

He hadn’t yet recovered from dying and reviving, transmigrating and recklessly beating the male lead—his whole being stunned like a wooden statue.

Heaven help him, he was just an ordinary wage slave. If doomsday truly came, how would he survive?

“Bai Chen Zhu!” An enraged roar shattered the night, forcing the ‘wooden statue’ back to awareness.

Bai Chen Zhu rubbed his nose bridge, turning to see Jiang Ye storming over aggressively, each step a silent threat. His eyes blazed like magma, his whole body like a fireball. Drawing near, without a word, he clenched his fist and lunged at Bai Chen Zhu.

If tackled, it’d mean eating a solid punch.

Bai Chen Zhu hastily retreated a step but failed to escape smoothly.

Panting slightly, Jiang Ye swiftly grabbed his collar, yanking him back. Their faces inches apart—close enough for Jiang Ye to see the ginkgo leaf swaying gently on Bai Chen Zhu’s left ear.

Close enough for Bai Chen Zhu to finally see the male lead clearly.

Jiang Ye had thick brows over large eyes, inherently fierce-looking. His slightly rounded eye shape barely tempered the menace.

Now, with a look craving to devour flesh raw, even a child would cry all night. And he panted like a beast.

“Let go.” Bai Chen Zhu frowned, gripping his wrist hard to force release.

Jiang Ye refused, clutching the collar and smashing a brutal fist into Bai Chen Zhu’s face.

The blow twisted Bai Chen Zhu’s head, stars exploding in his vision, brain stalling for half a minute.

Regaining his senses, he tongued the inside of his cheek, tasting familiar rust, rage exploding within, howling for payback. “Fuck you!”

Seeing Jiang Ye’s massive fist rearing again, Bai Chen Zhu couldn’t pry free the hand on his collar, so he drove his knee viciously into the groin, kicking him away hard.

Thud—it was the sound of knees hitting concrete. Jiang Ye incredulously clutched his crotch, face contorted in agony. Looking up at the sly Bai Chen Zhu, flames danced in his eyes. “Fuck!”

Bai Chen Zhu tilted his head, seemingly amused by his ‘incredulity.’ His leather shoes shuffled forward slowly two steps, stopping with the toe precisely a handspan from Jiang Ye’s kneeling knees.

The man in the white shirt bent down, lightly patting Jiang Ye’s cheek. A smile adorned his face, surface-only, not reaching his eyes—dark depths full of threat and faint annoyance. “Little brother, it’s a fight—if you think I’m playing with you?”

Jiang Ye hissed through the pain, cold air sucked in. Utterly disadvantaged and disheveled, yet his upturned brows suddenly relaxed, a neurotic laugh bursting forth, shoulders shaking. “Hahaha, Bai—Chen—Zhu.”

He chewed the name, smile fading, raising sinister eyes burning to devour the man before him. “Tonight, this grandpa’s gonna cripple you!”

Jiang Ye shed all restraint, primal ferocity unleashed, chasing Bai Chen Zhu like a mad dog. Bai Chen Zhu, tall and slender, held his own.

They grappled into a brawl, fists thudding into flesh, intent on killing.

In the scuffle, they overturned the barbecue stall’s plastic tables and chairs.

The boss, a bald burly man looking like a vicious thug, tried pulling them apart but couldn’t budge them, so frantic the big guy nearly cried.

The tethered earth dog at the door suddenly stood, baring teeth and barking nonstop at the scene outside. Woof woof woof woof!

This road led straight to the suburbs and was quite remote. Along the way lay barbecue stalls and fruit stalls, along with a certain building—the very complex that housed the nightclub the two men had just exited.

The boss had hoped someone would show up to help break up the fight and stared eagerly down the dark road.

A pair of red eyes quietly emerged from the darkness, accompanied by chewing sounds. A pot-bellied middle-aged man dressed in a sweatshirt staggered into the light. The mongrel dog cowered in the corner, trembling.

The middle-aged man’s eyes were bloodshot, and he clutched a large watermelon in his stiff hands. He mechanically gnawed at the rind, bit into the flesh, and crunched away, but he did not swallow. After each bite and chew, he spat it out. His mouth was full of red juice, giving him a bizarre appearance at first glance.

The middle-aged man shuffled into the barbecue stall. The boss shouted from afar, “Uncle, come help out quick! These two guys are about to wreck my whole stall…”

Before he could finish, the middle-aged man’s eyes lit up as if he had spotted a prime cut of fat. He casually tossed aside the heavy watermelon and charged at the two men who were tangled together, drool streaming from his mouth.

The boss had barely caught his breath when he watched in horror as the middle-aged man opened his gaping maw and sank his teeth viciously into Jiang Ye’s arm.