The room was quiet, except for the endless, frantic clacking of keyboard keys.
Pale blue light from the computer screen cast a ghostly glow across the man's face, highlighting the hollow shape of his cheeks and the dark circles nesting under his eyes.
His glasses hung crooked on the bridge of his nose, and behind them, his eyes were dry, red, and half-lidded. Every few minutes, he would blink like he was waking from a dream, only to resume typing again.
Beside the monitor, a small mountain of empty energy drink cans leaned dangerously to one side. Some had been crushed absentmindedly. Others were still sticky with whatever spilled during one of his frantic typing bursts. The bitter smell of caffeine lingered in the air.
His fingers danced across the keys like they had a will of their own, moving faster than his thoughts could catch up. The only breaks were brief pauses, muttered lines under his breath, small edits, and a twitch of satisfaction whenever a sentence finally landed just right.
Then, after what felt like forever, his hands froze. He stared at the screen. Slowly, a smile spread across his face.
"Done."
The whisper came out cracked, like his voice had forgotten how to speak.
He slumped back into the chair. The creaking sound echoed in the small, cluttered room. One hand ran through his messy hair. His shoulders sagged with the weight of exhaustion.
"That's the last one," he mumbled, voice barely audible. "Volume One for my first-ever original novel has been completed."
*Ugh*
His body groaned as he stretched. Bones popped. Muscles ached. His back had become a slab of pain, his legs numb from hours of staying frozen. The soreness made him wince, but he still grinned. Sleep was all he wanted now, after 37 hours of sleep-deprived, relentless writing.
"Oh, god… Writing original is damn difficult than a fanfiction… Ugh… this headache…"
He stumbled to the bed like someone drunk, not on alcohol, but on sleep deprivation. The soft mattress bed greeted him with open arms.
He didn't bother to change clothes. Didn't even pull the blanket over him.
The world faded to black the moment his head hit the pillow.
Ding.
A sharp sound rang out in the silence.
Then another.
Ding. Ding. Ding.
His eyes snapped open, then widened. "Hmm?"
This wasn't his ceiling. There were no cobwebs in the corners, no flickering light bulb overhead.
Instead, a wooden ceiling stretched above him, polished, dark, and inlaid with golden patterns. A silk canopy flowed down around the bedposts like water. The air was thick with the scent of sandalwood and something flowery.
He sat up quickly.
The sheets were soft like clouds. The robe wrapped around his body was smooth, embroidered with strange symbols and golden thread. He grabbed at the fabric, eyes wide. His heart pounded in his chest.
The room was massive, easily five times larger than his apartment. The floor was tiled with smooth stone, covered in thick carpets. Wooden furnishings lined the walls, elegant, carved with dragons and phoenixes.
"Where… am I?"
The words slipped out before he could stop them.
He rushed to the window. His breath caught in his throat.
A vast courtyard stretched out before him. Servants in traditional robes walked by with baskets of flowers. Guards stood still at the gates, armor gleaming in the sun. A stone path cut through gardens blooming with plum trees, leading to more towering halls with curved rooftops and jade tiles.
It looked like something straight out of a wuxia drama.
Then, suddenly…
DING!
A glowing screen appeared midair.
The light was soft, bluish-white, like a game HUD. Lines of text began to scroll across it.
[Congratulations, Host.]
[Fanfiction System Activated.]
He stared at the screen with his mouth open widely. "No… no freaking way."
He rubbed his eyes, shook his head. The screen remained, floating there.
Before he could say another word, another notification popped up.
[Choosing your Starter System randomly]
And then, more notifications began to roll in, one after another, stacking and expanding until they filled half the space in front of him.
[Shinobi System Unlocked.]
[Beginner Gift Pack sent to Inventory.]
[Mission System Unlocked.]
[Library Function unlocked.]
[Talent Tree Unlocked.]
[Gear System unlocked.]
[Summoning Contracts Function Available.]
Each message dinged softly as it appeared, the sound clean and almost cheerful, like a game tutorial greeting a new player that he was familiar with.
The bright white text contrasted against the soft blue background, blinking just long enough for him to read before sliding upward to make space for the next.
His eyes widened as the list grew.
"Wait… Shinobi system? Library? Summoning contracts?!"
His heart thudded louder with every new notification. His fingers twitched. "Just what kind of dream am I having?
Then, just as the last message faded, another screen popped up, this one in bold red letters.
[Would you like to merge the Host Body's Memories or erase them?]
[Warning: Irreversible Decision.]
He stared.
His lips moved silently, trying to form words, but nothing came out.
He couldn't understand whether he was in a dream or the transmigration reality that he often used in his fanfictions.
But in the end, a quiet chuckle escaped his lips.
"Alright… I don't know what's going on, but let's see where this goes."
He raised his hand. His index finger hovered over the [Merge] option for just a second, then tapped.
The screen disappeared instantly.
And then, it hit him.
A firestorm of memories crashed into his brain, all at once.
"Oh, F**k."
He clutched his head and gritted his teeth, sweat pouring down his temples. His knees hit the floor with a hard thud as the world spun around him. His breath came in short, ragged gasps.
And then… a name escaped his lips. "Qin Wei."
Taking deep breaths, he went back to bed and sat on it, digesting his thoughts.
"So, basically, I'm the fourth child of the Qin Clan, which is a big shot in this Empire. My Eldest brother Qin Han is a hero, the great General of the northern army. My second eldest, Qin Rulan, is the wife of the Duke of Nanjing. My third brother, Qin Zheng, is a Tier-9 sorcerer and an elite of the Spirit Blade Mountain sect. And I, the last son, am a trash with nothing but good looks. The Emperor is my maternal uncle, and I was his favorite. And I have a notorious reputation for being a bully, splurging money in brothels, and stealing lovers of other men? The f**k is this trope I was sent into…"
Then the memory twisted, and a new image flared in his mind.
A crimson scroll bearing the seal of the Dragon Throne. It was an imperial decree from his uncle.
Qin Wei was to marry the heiress of the Li Clan, and he would enter her household as a matrilocal husband.
But Li Xue was no ordinary bride.
She was a seventh-rank martial artist and the only daughter of Grandmaster Li Ruojin, one of the strongest swordsmen in the empire.
With his guards, Qin Wei was on his way to Li Clan, seated in an ornate bridal carriage, grinning, drunk on wine, and busy with a couple of ladies.
An ambush from mysterious assassins killed the original Qin Wei and his guards.
The pain in his skull faded slowly, and his heart rate calmed down.
Qin Wei lay sprawled on the bed, chest rising and falling as he adjusted to his new identity. "Alright… I get the gist of the plot. But how did I just gain this system? The same way my main characters gain systems in my fanfictions without any logical explanation? Hmm?"
As he was lost in his thoughts, the door creaked open.
A soft voice cut through the silence. "Young Master Qin Wei, are you awake?"
He turned sharply. Hmm?"
A girl stepped inside, a maid in red-trimmed robes, her hair neatly tied back, posture straight as a blade. She wasn't older than eighteen, but her eyes were quite cold.
Qin Wei blinked. "Who are you?"