C3 Chapter 3

“Don’t go—we still need to talk.” Yang Zimu’s lips curled into a smile, her eyes sparkling with bright, innocent light.

Anyone who didn’t know her would be fooled by her looks.

With death hiding inside that girlish smile, the gang boss felt a chill crawl over his skin.

She was clearly just a nineteen-year-old girl, so why… did she have that kind of presence?

“Ah—!”

Thud—

Yang Zimu was just about to have a proper conversation with the gang boss.

She wasn’t killing him, naturally, because it would make things a lot easier for her later.

But in a split second of distraction, the man she had in hand was snatched away by a dark blur, slammed to the ground, and pummeled with a steady rotation of fists.

The bloody mess—and the gang boss’s squeals, like a pig headed for slaughter—made Yang Zimu click her tongue. With a helpless sigh, she grabbed the man who was still swinging by the collar and yanked him back.

“Are you done?”

After waking up in a new life, Yang Zimu had been unlucky enough to lose her memory for eight whole years. During that time, she’d treated herself as the real Yang Zimu—carrying her memories, living with her gentle, soft, spineless personality for eight years.

And in those eight years, she’d even fallen for Lian Chi, an upperclassman a grade above her—the pathetic, shameless kind of crush where she kept throwing herself at him.

If Lian Chi hadn’t left for the military a year ago, and if she hadn’t stupidly walked right into rejection, she wouldn’t have gotten her memory back after his new girlfriend, Lee Jiating, shoved her. She fell, hit her head, and got hurt.

On that point, Yang Zimu had to thank Lee Jiating for not holding back—because looking back at who she’d been for those eight years, she was so stupid she wanted to slap her past self into next week.

After recovering her memories a year ago, she trained like hell. Only then did she manage to claw her way back to about half of her former skill. She rented a place with a few girls, splitting utilities, rent, and work expenses.

She’d thought life was already miserable enough.

Apparently the universe disagreed—because it sent her a man so filthy his hair had puffed into a full-on lion’s mane, his face smeared so dark you couldn’t even tell what he was supposed to look like.

This guy was living with three girls, and that was bad enough.

They figured they were just doing a good deed, giving him a break.

Turns out he was worse off than a drifter.

No job, loafing around all day, a single tattered gray-and-black outfit hanging off him, stubble all over his face—just looking at him, you’d swear he was eighty.

“Hey, I said stop hitting him!” Seeing the man flailing his legs, trying to kick the big boss, Yang Zimu’s face went flat with frustration, a vein jumping in her forehead. “Do you understand plain English or not?”

Yep—this lion-maned disaster right in front of her was Gu Yanjue!

Living with a bunch of girls was one thing, but they seriously regretted grabbing some random guy to help split the rent and bills, okay?! The fact they hadn’t kicked him out yet should’ve had him thanking his lucky stars.

Instead, this punk not only failed to show any gratitude by helping the ladies with chores, he even set his sights on one of the three girls in the rental.

Yeah. The unlucky one was Yang Zimu.

Yang Zimu stared up at the ceiling, fighting back tears.

She’d been reborn into another world—how many thousands or millions of years away from her old one, she had no idea. She’d combed through the history books and couldn’t find the era anywhere. She’d already coughed up blood and accepted it.

Now she just wanted to make an honest living as a master thief and keep herself fed, so why did a top-tier headache like this have to show up?

“Zimu, he’s bullying you! I’m gonna beat him till he’s spitting teeth!” Gu Yanjue clearly didn’t notice the murderous look on Yang Zimu’s face. Her fist clenched, then loosened—then clenched again.

She was seriously torn. Should she just knock him out with one punch?

About two or three months ago, Yang Zimu went to sleep like usual, right on schedule in the early morning. Then a soft rustling came from the window. She looked up—and a shadowy figure smashed in through the glass, cracking his knuckles as he strode toward her.