Chapter 1 - Deeply In Love With You [Quick Transmigration]

Translator's Note:

Hello, I hope you've all been doing well. I have decided to pick up a second Quick Transmigration novel. This time, the gong is the MC and I hope you appreciate this novel as much as I do.

Here you go, and I wish you a good read.

And, as I said before, if you wish to read ahead, you can head over to my Patreon to get early access to all the translated chapters.

Arc 1: Who Doesn't Long for Gentleness

 

Picked Up

 

 

[System evaluation complete. Mission completed with an A-Rank. Task 1 reward: 5 million star coins. Task 2 reward: 3 million star coins. Bonus reward: 1 million star coins. Total: 9 million star coins. All have been transferred to your account. Bonus awarded for: Contributed significantly to cultural development.]


[An A-Rank?]

 

The voice that asked was calm, but carried a trace—so subtle it was almost imperceptible—of surprise.

 

[Yes.] the system replied.

 

[Then let's open the next world.]

 

[Understood. Now selecting your next mission world.]

 

[System 1314* notification: World loading… Memory transfer in progress…]

 

[T/N: In Chinese slang, 1314 is a homophone for "一生一世" (yī shēng yī shì), which means: "for a lifetime" or "forever."

So when people use 1314, especially in romantic contexts, they're expressing lifelong love or commitment — like saying: "I'll love you forever."

It's often paired with 520 (which sounds like "I love you" — wǒ ài nǐ), so 5201314 means: "I love you forever."]

 

His new body felt cold, yet each breath he exhaled was warm. Icy wetness clung to him from head to toe as his body rapidly lost heat, no matter how hard he tried to hold onto it.

 

A metallic tang hung in the air—like rust. Even through the haze of unconsciousness, Zong Que could still recognize the scent of blood. If this body wasn't treated soon, the mission was on the verge of failure.

 

[System 1314 notification: Based on your preset parameters, a recovery potion has been redeemed on your behalf.]

 

As the source system intervened, Zong Que's breathing suddenly became smooth again. A flood of memories surged into his mind—shouting, brawling, a fight in a deserted alley under heavy clouds, a blow to the head, and finally, collapsing into muddy rain-soaked ground.

 

A faint splash echoed nearby—someone was carefully stepping to avoid the puddles, wary of soiling their shoes...

 

Plop.

 

A raindrop landed on his cheek, sharp and cold, enough to jolt him from the mire of half-conscious thought. A shadow fell over him, and suddenly, the relentless downpour disappeared. All that remained was the gentle rustle of rain striking fabric.

 

Zong Que slowly opened his eyes. As he pushed up his soaked, heavy body with one arm, he noticed a pair of clean white sneakers beside him—completely out of place on this rainy day—stepping back slightly. A sliver of hazy daylight peeked through, only to be covered again by the umbrella as a soft, careful voice asked:

 

"Are you alright?"

 

It was like sunlight breaking through storm clouds—warmth flooding in to drive away the cold and darkness.

 

Zong Que tried to stand, but only managed to sit up with some effort. When he looked up, he saw the young man standing before him.

 

A crisp white shirt, neatly buttoned collar, a backpack slung over one shoulder. His black hair lay smooth and tidy, and his refined features glowed with a gentle clarity, like the sky after rain. In the dim mist of drizzle and dusk, only the space beneath his umbrella was bright and warm.

 

Zong Que recognized him. A distant figure from the original body's memories—Lin Heng.

 

[System 1314 new mission: Task 1 – Survive as the original host. Task 2 – Change Lin Heng's original fate.]

 

Such a gentle and untainted person. No one would ever imagine that his future held two broken legs and a tragic death in a lake.

 

The mission triggered the moment he encountered the target. But it wasn't yet time for fate's gears to turn.

 

"I'm fine," Zong Que murmured, withdrawing his gaze. He glanced down at his injuries—cuts from blades, bruises from clubs. The fatal blow had struck the back of his head.

 

The recovery potion from the source system worked wonders, healing with a speed that would seem miraculous to any onlooker. If there were no witnesses, it could restore him instantly.

 

His attacker had no idea how bad the damage had been. Lin Heng didn't either. The wounds appeared brutal, but would heal completely in a short time.

 

Lin Heng was watching him too. The youth was tall, with sharp, ink-dark eyes that gave off a fierce aura. Zong Que usually had a few bruises when seen on campus, but rarely anything so bloody. Now, his white T-shirt was soaked with mud and blood—he looked terrifying.

 

"You should really go to a hospital," Lin Heng said, hesitantly reaching out his hand.

 

But then Zong Que lifted his gaze—those deep, distant eyes held a chilling calm. Not hostility, not indifference—just the kind of tranquility one only saw in those untouched by their own pain. It made Lin Heng instinctively uneasy.

 

"It's just a scratch. No need for a hospital," Zong Que said quietly, lowering his eyes. But he didn't brush the hand away. Instead, he let it clasp his arm.

 

The warmth of that touch was almost scorching against his cold skin, making his body shiver involuntarily.

 

Using that hand for support, he stood up. Lin Heng let out a soft breath of relief and said with concern, "Still, you should probably get a tetanus shot."

 

"No need. Just a bandage will do." Zong Que answered calmly under the umbrella.

 

Twilight had already crept in, but the broken club and the spattered blood were still visible on the ground. The distant chime of a school bell drifted through the air.

 

It wasn't that he didn't want to go to a hospital—but the original host had not a single coin to his name. And with a fight this severe, if it got reported without explanation, expulsion would be unavoidable.

 

"I'm not very good at first aid," Lin Heng admitted, watching the blood from Zong Que's arm drip down to his own fingers, worry in his eyes.

 

"I can handle it." Zong Que glanced around, orienting himself. "If I recall correctly, your rented place is nearby. Can I go there for now?"

 

It wasn't safe to go home like this, either.

 

"Uh…" Lin Heng looked slightly surprised, but eventually nodded. "Sure."

 

Two tall silhouettes—one walking steady, the other limping—slowly disappeared down the muddy alley, leaving behind only the echoes of rain and shadow.

 

***

 

Indoors, it was warm and bright—a sharp contrast to the biting chill of the spring rain outside. Zong Que sat cleaning his wounds, carefully picking out embedded grit and gravel. The sharp, cutting pain forced his eyes shut for a moment before he could regain composure.

 

Thanks to the recovery potion, most of the injuries hidden beneath his clothes had already healed. The chaos of that alleyway brawl had been so frenzied, the ones who hurt him probably couldn't remember where they'd landed their blows. What remained were only minor wounds that needed cleaning and basic care.

 

He changed into the clean, soft clothes left by the door. Just as he stepped out of the bathroom, the front door opened. Lin Heng returned, shaking the rain from his umbrella as a fresh chill swept in with him.

 

Hanging the umbrella by the entrance, Lin Heng shivered slightly as he slipped into house slippers. His gaze turned toward Zong Que, his voice gentle: "I brought back the medicine you asked for. How do you use it?"

 

"Thanks. I'll take care of it myself," Zong Que replied, walking over to take the bag. Noticing the dampness on Lin Heng's shoulders and pant legs, he asked, "Want to take a shower? The water's still hot."

 

"Uh…" Lin Heng blinked, staring at him in surprise.

 

"What is it?" Zong Que asked.

 

"No… nothing," Lin Heng murmured, lips tightening as he studied the young man now dressed in his clothes. Somehow, he didn't seem as intimidating as before.

 

He'd even said "thank you."

 

1314: [Host, the original owner would never say something like 'thank you.' Be careful not to act out of character (OOC).]

 

Zong Que: [What happens if I do?] He opened the medicine bag, studied the instructions, and used a cotton swab to apply ointment to the wound on his arm.

 

A strong medicinal scent filled the air, followed by a cold, stinging sensation that made him hold his breath without thinking.

 

1314: [If someone in this world figures it out, you might end up in a lab getting dissected.] The system lowered its mechanical voice, adding a touch of eerie warning.

 

Of course, the source system would never let its hosts fall into real danger—but it never hurt to remind them just how important survival was.

 

After all, what new host didn't get spooked by a few system threats?

 

Zong Que set the cotton swab down and began cutting gauze. […We weren't really close.]

 

And it was true—the original host hadn't been close to Lin Heng. Zong Que had been the school's problem student—always in trouble, constantly fighting, barely allowed to stay enrolled thanks to his poverty. Lin Heng, on the other hand, was consistently top three in his year, from a happy home, beloved by both teachers and parents. Even though they shared a classroom, not ten meters apart, the gap between them was immeasurable.

 

Even when collecting homework, students would go out of their way to avoid Zong Que's desk. In a whole semester, the two had barely spoken three sentences.

 

So if Lin Heng misunderstood his personality, it was only natural.

 

As for being dragged into a lab for research… the system had made that threat three times already. Not once had it come true.

 

"I can help you," Lin Heng said hesitantly, watching Zong Que struggle to place the gauze on his arm with one hand.

 

Zong Que looked up at him for a moment, then let go of the gauze. "Thanks."

 

It really wasn't easy to do with one hand. He didn't need to completely rewrite the original's personality—that would raise suspicion among people who knew him. But being cold and rude could stand to be changed.

 

The more allies, the more options. He'd gotten lucky this time, running into Lin Heng. Next time, he might not be so fortunate.

 

Lin Heng pulled over a stool, sat down beside him, and carefully placed the gauze over the wound.

 

"Just tape it down," Zong Que said, handing over the medical tape.

 

"Alright." Lin Heng looked up briefly, noticing that the injuries didn't seem quite as horrifying as they had earlier.

 

Maybe most of that blood... wasn't even his.

 

His eyes lowered as he cut a strip of tape and smoothed it neatly into place. But his lashes trembled slightly, and the doubt in his eyes was impossible to hide.

 

"You want to ask something?" Zong Que spoke up as Lin Heng glanced up at him for the third time, thinking he hadn't been noticed.

 

Lin Heng froze mid-motion. After a moment of hesitation, he asked, "Who hurt you? Should we call the police?"

 

When he'd found Zong Que earlier, the alley had been covered in blood and mud—he hadn't even thought about calling the police, too stunned by the sight. It all felt like a bad dream.

 

"I started it," Zong Que said calmly.

 

Lin Heng's hand suddenly pressed too hard on the gauze. Feeling the arm beneath tense, he flinched and quickly pulled back. "Sorry! I didn't mean to—did that hurt?"

 

Their eyes met. Zong Que remained calm, but Lin Heng looked flustered. After a pause, he muttered, "…I wasn't trying to get you arrested."

 

There were only two people in the room. If Zong Que really wanted to silence him… no one would ever know.

 

Zong Que looked at the young man's tense shoulders and the way he'd nearly stopped breathing altogether. "You shouldn't get involved in this."

 

The ones Zong Que had fought weren't just students—there were gang-affiliated adults mixed in too. It had started when the original host tried to mug a student for lunch money. He hadn't succeeded—he had no weapon and no money—but the students had fought back. Self-defense. The adults, though, weren't going to let things slide so easily.

 

If Lin Heng got tangled up in this, it would only jeopardize his present—and his future.

 

He had the chance to walk a bright, clean road. There was no need to drag him through the filth.

 

Lin Heng hesitated, unsure what to say. He'd seen Zong Que lying there in the mud and blood, thinking he might've died. But now it turned out Zong Que had started the whole thing?

 

The situation was far more complicated than he could handle. Whether to report it or not—neither option felt right.

 

"…Okay," Lin Heng finally said, snipping the tape and pressing down the last bit of gauze.

 

There were wounds on his arm, his ankle, the back of his head—some long enough to make Lin Heng's stomach twist. Yet the one sitting there bore it all like he'd long since gotten used to it, not even a furrow between his brows.

 

"Can I borrow some money?" Zong Que asked, glancing toward the dark window, sensing Lin Heng's hand move above his head.

 

"…Huh?" Lin Heng froze. The scissors in his hand shifted slightly, slicing off a lock of hair that drifted down onto the sofa.

 

Zong Que didn't seem to notice, but Lin Heng hastily trapped the fallen hair under his knee—afraid the "mess-with-my-hair-and-you-die" type would actually make good on that threat.

 

"Sure. How much?"

 

1314: [Host, he just cut your hair.]

 

Zong Que seemed unbothered, "One thousand." [The way he is, he'll easily catch a thief's eye.]

 

1314: [?]

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