Chapter 6

Translator: Abo Dammen

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Chen Lu didn’t come back to his senses until he’d been dragged along for most of the way. Realizing he was being carried by force, he instinctively struggled a bit only to be held even tighter.

…Alright then.

Chen Lu gave up resisting right away.

Mainly because he didn’t really have a choice. He’d just come out of a brush with death and found himself drowning in debt, his legs still jelly-like from shock. He couldn’t even walk properly, his right foot was throbbing painfully, probably injured when Qin Guchuan yanked him out of the car. Walking on his own seemed impossible right now, so being carried honestly wasn’t the worst outcome. 

When it came to submitting to fate and lying flat in peace, Chen Lu had always been a master.

Chen Lu was surprisingly calm. In fact, he even felt a hint of relief, like he’d finally ticked off that stupid plot point that had been stuck for so long. So, when the bodyguards finally let go after dumping him back into his room, Chen Lu reflexively muttered a quiet “Thanks.”

Originally, the two bodyguards had planned to throw out a few threats—something like “You better behave,” to keep things in line.

Not because it was in the script, but because that chaotic, off-the-rails car crash had seriously rattled them. But that unexpected “thanks” from Chen Lu completely threw them off. Their threatening lines got stuck in their throats. When it came to leaving people speechless, Chen Lu really did treat everyone equally. 

The two bodyguards stood frozen for a moment before replying, awkwardly polite, “…You’re welcome.”

The atmosphere stalled into a weird, silent eye contact standoff for several seconds. Finally, thoroughly thrown off, the two bodyguards beat a hasty retreat. Of course, they still locked the door behind them on the way out—professional to the end, carrying out their employer’s orders to the letter.

The boss had said “lock him up,” so that’s exactly what they did. As for whether that counted as illegal detention… Well, as local bodyguards, they honestly didn’t care.

Chen Lu didn’t care about any of that. Once the others were gone, he relaxed completely and rolled up his pant leg to check the damage. His right foot had swollen up, probably twisted. His lower leg had a large area of scraped skin, already turning blue and slightly bloody. The back of his left heel hurt too. On closer inspection, it looked like it had slammed into the ground, leaving the skin broken and bruised. 

He tested the motion in his right ankle. It hurt, but not painful enough to suggest a fracture. The joint moved smoothly, and there wasn’t any sharp pain beyond the surface. All things considered, especially after a car crash, this really was the best-case scenario.

After hobbling to the bathroom to patch himself up, Chen Lu flopped back onto the bed and tried to go over his debt situation again.

But after a few seconds, he gave up.

This body already owed a mountain of debt. Whether it was “can’t pay” or “absolutely can’t pay,” the result was the same. A few more zeroes didn’t make much difference anymore. 

Fully embracing his inner slacker, Chen Lu let it all rot and shifted his focus to what he was supposed to do next. He was definitely happy about finally completing that endlessly stalled plotline. But now that it was done, the script in his head had gone completely silent—no more directions. Chen Lu deeply regretted spending all his time gaming instead of familiarizing himself with the tropes of old-school melodramatic novels.

He tried seriously to predict what might come next, mapping out potential story developments… only to reject each idea as soon as it formed. Who knew how long he’d been lost in thought when suddenly—

His stomach let out a loud growl.

Only now did Chen Lu realize he was hungry. 

Like, really hungry.

Something didn’t feel right.

He glanced at the wall clock. It was almost 3 PM.

Wait, what? Chen Lu stared in shock at the door. 

He’d been caught in the garage around ten this morning. It was this late already, and no one had come to get him for lunch?

Wait a damn minute—did Qin Guchuan really mean “lock him up” as in “don’t even feed him”?!

Chen Lu was in disbelief, but he still held onto a tiny shred of hope. Maybe someone had knocked and he hadn’t noticed? Maybe lunch had already been quietly left outside his door or something?

He dragged himself to the door using his barely functional left leg and tried the handle. 

Great. Locked.

Peering through the crack under the door, he saw no food tray or anything of the sort.

They really don’t plan on feeding him?!

Chen Lu instantly threw all his previous plot deductions out the window. 

It was clear—locking someone up and starving them was basically attempted murder. And as the protagonist, there was no way the story would let him die of hunger, which meant the next plot point had to be “find food.”

Fully aware he was bullshitting himself, Chen Lu’s eyes locked onto the door like a predator.

Nothing….and he means nothing could come between him and a meal!!!

While being lovingly cursed out in Chen Lu’s head, Qin Guchuan suddenly felt an itch in his nose, probably from the pungent smell of the antiseptic he was holding. Locking Chen Lu up had been part of the script, sure. But according to the original plot, he’d been certain Chen Lu hadn’t actually gotten injured. 

Now, though, not only was Chen Lu hurt, it was his fault. And Chen Lu’s room definitely didn’t have any medical supplies. Plus, he’d locked the guy in.

Naturally, Qin Guchuan felt he had to take responsibility and do something about it.

Qin Guchuan gave it some thought. Currently, it wasn’t a plot-driven period. The next storyline wouldn’t trigger for another three days. Outside of those scripted beats, he had a lot more freedom to do as he pleased, and he’d already tested the boundaries enough to confirm that nothing too drastic would happen.

Chen Lu had barged into his room before, digging around for the contract. That was outside of the script too, and nothing had gone haywire. So if Qin Guchuan said a few lines, forced Chen Lu to take some medicine, it likely wouldn’t break anything, so long as he stayed in character with his early-villain persona. 

Having sorted out the boundaries between what was in and out of script, Qin Guchuan gave in to his instincts. He fetched the first aid kit, grabbed the relevant meds, and headed toward Chen Lu’s room.

But once he got there…

Qin Guchuan stared down at the door lock with a look of mild confusion and a dash of existential doubt. With the rhythmic clink-clank-clink of metal scraping metal, the lock visibly jiggled with each strike.

No doubt about it. Whoever was inside was very seriously trying to break out. Qin Guchuan suddenly had the urge to turn around and put the medicine back—no, scratch that, maybe he was the one who needed it. His head was starting to hurt. 

What the hell was Chen Lu up to now? Even the scripted Chen Lu hadn’t been this chaotic—

Qin Guchuan paused mid-thought. Actually… that wasn’t true.

The Chen Lu in the script was plenty chaotic.

What novel protagonist isn’t a total walking disaster huh.jpg 

Viewed that way, the in-script Chen Lu and the current chaos gremlin Chen Lu were actually pretty consistent character-wise.

Qin Guchuan successfully rationalized Chen Lu’s behavior—again.

So Qin Guchuan just stood there, quietly, outside the door, mentally reviewing his own scripted actions, and decided not to interrupt. He simply listened to Chen Lu messing around with the lock.

Chen Lu had no idea there was a “surprise” waiting just outside. He was completely focused on picking the lock, working with all the determination of a man on borrowed time. 

It was the quietest time of day on the first floor of the Qin estate. Everyone was resting. By around 5 PM, the maids would start moving again to prepare for dinner. He had just over an hour to open that door, sneak to the kitchen, and score some food.

After much effort, Chen Lu finally finished dismantling the lock and gently slid out the cylinder. Staring at the round hole left behind in the door, he felt a strange sense of accomplishment.

He did it! A mere door? As if that could stop a modern-day college student like him!

He was a hands-on genius! 

Chen Lu chuckled to himself and planted his hands on his hips, admiring his handiwork. But as he kept admiring, he suddenly noticed… something was off.

Why did it feel like… he could see a patch of very unnatural color through the hole?

It was dark, almost pitch black. It looked a lot like… a suit jacket.

Chen Lu, “……” 

Chen Lu, “…………”

Silently, Chen Lu slid the lock pieces back into place, like absolutely nothing had happened. Qin Guchuan watched the lock cylinder which was first removed, then ever so gingerly pushed back in, and pressed his lips together, suppressing a laugh.

He couldn’t even see Chen Lu’s face, but the whole slapstick lock performance told him everything he needed to know.

Funny. When he’d skimmed the story as a whole, he hadn’t thought Chen Lu’s personality would be this… entertaining. 

Trying not to laugh, Qin Guchuan wrangled his expression under control over the course of a minute. Then, at last, he gently pushed open the now-unlocked door.

The door creaked open inch by inch under Qin Guchuan’s hand, slowly revealing the person inside—face full of innocence and pitiful desperation.

With a face like his, Chen Lu could pull off the “pitiful and vulnerable” look easily. Of course, you couldn’t stare too long or you’d realize how fake it was. Qin Guchuan said nothing. His gaze dropped slightly and landed on Chen Lu’s ankle which was swollen badly.

Even with an injury like that, he still had the energy to play locksmith. Qin Guchuan had to hand it to him. Out loud though, he stuck to character. Wearing a stony face, Qin Guchuan snapped impatiently, “Chen Lu, are you this desperate for my attention?” 

When he saw that black suit earlier, Chen Lu thought he was done for. He was caught and was about to be punished. He hadn’t expected it to be Qin Guchuan himself standing outside.

And he was alone.

Most importantly…

Chen Lu stared at the medicine in Qin Guchuan’s hand. 

Clearly, the man hadn’t shown up to stop an escape. He’d come to deliver medicine. Thinking back to the garage, the moment Qin Guchuan noticed something was off, he’d grabbed him without hesitation. That strength hadn’t come out of nowhere.

He reacted fast. Very fast.

With that face and that level of attentiveness… Well, it was no wonder that, after all the drama, this guy still managed to end up with a wife.

For a brief moment, Chen Lu felt oddly touched. 

Of course, that warmth lasted only until Qin Guchuan opened his mouth.

Why must beautiful people talk? Chen Lu mourned silently. Outwardly, he said nothing, still wearing his most innocent, wide-eyed look.

It wasn’t that Chen Lu didn’t know how to respond to Qin Guchuan’s words. It was mainly that he was worried he’d open his mouth and immediately start blurting out sarcastic remarks by sheer instinct. At the moment, the only thing he had truly mastered was wearing an innocent expression.

Qin Guchuan didn’t think much of Chen Lu’s lack of response. He just took it as another act of stubborn resistance. He walked into the room, placed the medicine on the table beside Chen Lu, and said in a low, displeased voice, “Put the medicine on yourself. Don’t even think about using your injury to get my attention.” 

Chen Lu remained silent, though his internal sarcasm was practically deafening.

But his thoughts weren’t the only thing making noise, his stomach chose that moment to let out a loud, unmistakable growl.

Hearing it loud and clear, Qin Guchuan glanced down at him, one brow arching slightly in surprise. “Hungry?”

Chen Lu could stay silent about most things, but that incredulous tone? No way. “Mr. Qin, it’s been this long since this morning, shouldn’t I be hungry by now?” 

It wasn’t hard to catch the meaning behind that statement. Qin Guchuan instantly realized that no one had prepared lunch for Chen Lu.

Qin Guchuan definitely hadn’t given such an order himself, and he didn’t think the old butler would make such a call on his own. That left only one possible explanation: the influence of the plot. He knew how the plot was supposed to unfold. In a couple of days, Chen Lu, who had been locked up, would fall ill. The family doctor would come and declare that it was due to emotional distress.

But in reality… had the world auto-patched the logic? Falling into despair and becoming bedridden after just two days of being locked up was hardly convincing. Maybe the world had “optimized” it by making sure no one gave Chen Lu food, just to reach that end result?

Qin Guchuan mulled it over but had no intention of explaining any of this to Chen Lu. He just glanced down at Chen Lu’s ankle again and said flatly, “Wait.” 

From the first escape attempt, it seemed clear that anything not explicitly described in the plot could be adjusted freely. As long as the conditions for the story to kick off were met, starving him wasn’t mandatory.

Qin Guchuan knew there were plenty of plot points ahead that required Chen Lu to be running around. Getting this injured guy back on his feet quickly, that was the priority.

As for the emotional breakdown… if starvation could fudge that requirement, then surely there were other ways to cheat the system.

Like slipping a bit of sleep aid into someone’s water. 

The goal was just to keep the person bedridden and listless. As long as the result was the same, how it was achieved didn’t matter. Qin Guchuan didn’t see it as a problem.

Chen Lu stared after him, utterly confused. That sounded like… he might actually be getting food?

Chen Lu wasn’t sure, but being caught red-handed by his debt collector had left him a bit sheepish. He didn’t dare try running right now. He figured he’d wait and see if Qin Guchuan had even a shred of conscience left. Judging by his actions so far… Chen Lu eyed the bruise ointment beside him. This President Qin… still had a tiny sliver of decency left.

Chen Lu picked up the medicine and began rubbing it carefully onto his injured ankle. 

He wanted to heal as soon as possible too.

After all, if this domineering CEO Qin turned heartless and ordered someone to reboard the door, he’d at least have his legs ready for a window escape.

As for what came next, obviously he needed to eat before thinki—huh?

As he mentally rambled, Chen Lu’s vision blurred. In his mind, a tiny chunk of the initial plotline started glitching, flickering erratically. After a few seconds, it began struggling to eject new pieces of the story, sometimes one sentence, sometimes two or three at once, with irregular pauses in between, like some rusted, broken machine coughing out its last data. 

After nearly twenty painstaking minutes, it finally spat out two full chapters’ worth of content—then went still again.

Chen Lu read through the newly ejected plotlines as fast as they appeared and then fell into stunned silence.

Why… why did this story’s world actually have a plot point where the protagonist goes hungry for several days?!

Sure, the text didn’t outright say it. But how else would he fall into despair and end up bedridden, if not by giving him several days of gourmet meals and then cutting him off cold turkey?! 

It was a perfectly aimed stab right into his Achilles’ heel.

This was cruel!

What kind of sadistic author thinks up a plot like this?! Have they ever considered the emotional damage to their protagonist?!

Getting new storyline chunks delivered like game quests was technically a good thing, At least he didn’t have to guess anymore. But with how awful this next arc was, Chen Lu didn’t even want to treat it as good news. He would’ve preferred staying in the dark. Now what? When Qin Guchuan came back with food, was he supposed to eat or not? 

When Qin Guchuan returned with a bowl of soup noodles, the first thing he saw was Chen Lu looking utterly dejected.

He’d only been gone maybe half an hour. Was his emotional collapse really that fast?! Qin Guchuan was a little shaken.

Maybe he wouldn’t even need that sleeping aid after all?

Chen Lu didn’t even notice Qin Guchuan’s expression. His eyes were fixed in surprise on the bowl of soup noodles. This man really did bring him food. And not just snacks to tide him over, but an actual meal. 

The noodle soup looked pretty decent, with a nice balance of meat and vegetables. It even looked nutritious. So, after hesitating for less than a second between eating and not eating, Chen Lu made his decision.

—Food is the most important thing under heaven. As for the whole emotional turmoil thing… he’d try wrestling with that again tomorrow.

Qin Guchuan clearly saw the light suddenly spark in Chen Lu’s eyes. For someone who cooked the meal, seeing the person eating react like that really was heartwarmingly satisfying. “Go ahead and eat,” Qin Guchuan said, setting the tray down on the table.

The bowl had barely touched the table before Qin Guchuan watched Chen Lu, moving as if he wasn’t even injured, dart over and, before he could blink, stuff a chopstick full of noodles into his mouth. The moment the noodles hit his tongue, Chen Lu’s eyes instantly filled with tears. Then, his pace slowed. Bite by bite, he chewed carefully, almost reverently, as if cherishing every mouthful. 

Seeing this reaction, Qin Guchuan was stunned, even starting to question his own memory.

Had Chen Lu been hungry for a few hours, or was it more like a few days?

It was just a bowl of noodles. No way it could be moving enough to bring someone to tears.

But to Chen Lu, this bowl of noodles really was that significant. 

The moment it touched his tongue, the pure starchiness of the noodles spread across his taste buds, making one fact painfully clear to Chen Lu.

This beautifully plated, full-score-on-presentation bowl of soup noodles… Had! No! Salt!!!

At that moment, Chen Lu finally understood that what depressed him more than going hungry…was being given a terrible bowl of soup noodles…and having to eat the whole damn thing.

Qin Guchuan, of course, had no idea. He simply stood there, deeply moved, watching Chen Lu tearfully finish every bite of the noodle soup with such reverence that even he, the one who made it, began to feel a vague sense of guilt. 

He had thought that the sheer delight on Chen Lu’s face during previous meals was already the highest level of human appreciation for food. Turns out, Chen Lu had even more praise to give.

It was hard to describe what Qin Guchuan was feeling in that moment. All he knew was, he nearly broke character, his tone turning a little complicated as he said to Chen Lu, “Don’t worry. There’ll be more tomorrow.”

Having just barely managed to finish the bowl, Chen Lu fell silent. Qin Guchuan’s complicated tone sent a chill of dread through him.

After a long pause, Chen Lu finally looked up at Qin Guchuan, eyes full of fragile hope. He tried to save himself with the pitiful charm of a delicate little flower, asking miserably, “Tomorrow… is it going to be the same noodles?” 

Qin Guchuan hesitated. He had originally planned to let the household chef take over from tomorrow, but seeing the hopeful look on Chen Lu’s face… he suddenly couldn’t bring himself to say no.

Come to think of it, Chen Lu really had been through a rough patch lately.

And considering the angsty, emotionally devastating plotlines yet to come, Qin Guchuan couldn’t help but feel a little sympathy for him. When he thought about the company meetings coming up in the next few days… well, maybe they could be pushed back a bit…

Qin Guchuan quickly rearranged his schedule in his head. Outwardly, he still remembered to maintain his cold, emotionless CEO persona as he gave a curt, heartless response, “Yes.” 

Chen Lu stared at Qin Guchuan in disbelief. He couldn’t believe there were people this cruel in the world. People who could look directly at this face of his and feel not even a shred of pity!

Wasn’t it just a little too much for someone like that CEO to be cast as the other lead in this story???

Meanwhile, faced with Chen Lu’s stunned expression, Qin Guchuan actually started to feel a little awkward.

…Did Chen Lu somehow figure out that he’d personally cooked that bowl of soup… 

“Don’t go imagining things that are impossible,” he snapped, trying to salvage his crumbling persona by stiffening his face and issuing a cold warning. Not daring to look at Chen Lu again, fearing that the more he did, the more he’d mess up, Qin Guchuan quickly grabbed his things and bolted out of this ‘danger zone.’

Watching Qin Guchuan’s heartless figure disappear down the hallway, Chen Lu’s expression went completely blank.

Wasn’t he the protagonist? And wasn’t that guy supposed to be his destined future love interest?! How could he be this cold and unfeeling?! All Chen Lu wanted was one properly seasoned bite of food, and the man called it an “impossible thing”!

This was outrageous! He’d even resorted to selling his looks, for heaven’s sake!!! 

Chen Lu, now thoroughly depressed, felt like life just wasn’t worth living anymore. The only thing he had looked forward to after transmigrating into this book… was the luxurious three daily meals at the Qin estate!

This devastating blow hit Chen Lu hard. Though over the next two days, the food he received wasn’t the same noodle soup from that first day.

There were regular dishes with rice, or some kind of fancy local specialty. The presentation remained impeccable… and the taste… still made him choke up the moment it touched his tongue.

Not a single one had salt. 

What a wonderful world—so considerate of his health, and so determined to break his spirit.

Truly, a place that knew how to “care” for the sick and injured.

Chen Lu sobbed.

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Author’s Feed: 

…Based on the author’s personal experience with only being able to cook edible nightmares, the gong didn’t do it on purpose.