Wang Xiaomie had a dream.
In the dream, he went back to the first time when the system selected him to time travel back a thousand years.
The system shouted, “While the villain is young, be his little cotton-padded jacket!”
Forcing Wang Xiaomie to use love to influence the Big Boss villain, be his white moonlight, be his unforgettable love, let him develop comprehensively in morality, intelligence, physical fitness, and aesthetics.
If he fails, kill Wang Xiaomie, then kill the villain.
Wang Xiaomie, resigned to his fate, dreamed of feeding, ahem, raising Wen Fengjin from infancy to youth, nurturing him through hardships and turning him from a little wolf cub into a handsome young man.
Just as Wang Xiaomie was feeling proud, suddenly a gust of wind blew. He closed his eyes and when he opened them again, he found that Wen Fengjin was still handsome, but he had gray wolf ears on his head and a wolf tail swinging behind his buttocks!
And on his own head, he had grown two small sheep horns, stuck to his head like two croissants.
Wang Xiaomie stared in amazement at Wen Fengjin. He felt something strange on his buttocks, and a bad feeling followed. He quickly turned his head and found a small white fluffy tail sticking to his buttocks…
The little tail wagged: bilingbiling~ Surprise, meh, hehe!
Wang Xiaomie: …
As he turned around, the academy and seats behind him all changed into large red mushrooms! Now he was inside a house made of a huge mushroom, looking out a door’s circular glass window at Wen Fengjin outside.
Wang Xiaomie: …Dying with a smile.
This dream, I give it a thumbs down.
“Little rabbit, little rabbit!”
Outside the mushroom, Wen Fengjin smiled like a flower at Wang Xiaomie inside, his overly effeminate and handsome face almost distorted.
The wolf ears twitched back and forth, the wolf tail swished wildly against the ground, and Wen Fengjin grinned, revealing two sharp fangs, making him look particularly ferocious against his beauty.
Dage, you want to eat people!
Wang Xiaomie swallowed hard, and just as he was trembling, Wen Fengjin suddenly began to sing affectionately.
“Little rabbit, be good, open the door; I won't open it, I won't open it, mommy hasn't come back~~~”
Wang Xiaomie: “…”
“Fuck off! Devil!”
Wang Xiaomie, who had accidentally fallen asleep, suddenly woke up, panting heavily. He was so startled that he quickly touched his head and buttocks, his eyes scanning the surroundings.
“Phew~ it’s okay, it’s okay, no horns on my head, no sheep tail on my butt, and the house hasn’t turned into a big mushroom…”
Wang Xiaomie sighed in relief, wiping the sweat from his forehead. He was still in the dark wooden cabin, presumably with a dark sky outside. Beside him, An Xie’s family’s Little Purple Hair was awakened and moved slightly in his sack.
Wang Xiaomie lowered his voice, covering his chest and recalling Wen Fengjin singing “Little Rabbit, be good” in his dream, causing his whole body to shiver.
“Thankfully, it was just a dream.”
We’re sorry for MTLers or people who like using reading mode, but our translations keep getting stolen by aggregators so we’re going to bring back the copy protection. If you need to MTL please retype the gibberish parts.
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He thought about what to do next. Although he was temporarily under control, due to Wen Fengin’s blood sacrifice, he was not completely unable to control his own body now. When the time came, he and Purple Hair would definitely be used by Yi Yan as leverage against Wen Fengjin and An Xie.
At that time, Yi Yan would also bring out his puppet to control him…
What if I stand behind him and stab him with a knife? Catch him off guard and kill him?
Wang Xiaomie felt his inner thigh, where his dagger, Kaiming, was concealed.
Kaiming was a spiritual weapon, with absolute lethality. Even if the opponent had tough defenses, it would slice through them like cutting tofu. But with Yi Yan’s vigilance and inhuman strength, could he, a weak chicken, do it?
Yi Yan smiled as if he had no defenses, in reality, he would probably notice the weapon as soon as it was drawn, and there was also Bai Yu…
Thinking of Bai Yu, Wang Xiaomie recalled the scene he witnessed that day. Bai Yu seemed to have no intention of revealing the truth. I wonder what he’s thinking. Is he going to keep pretending to be ignorant and continue like this with Yi Yan?
Wang Xiaomie’s mind raced with chaotic thoughts.
He couldn’t beat Yi Yan.
Bai Yu couldn’t be trusted right now.
And he was stuck here with a legless Purple Hair…
Oh God! Have mercy on this poor child! Wang Xiaomie was so worried that his head hurt.
But when Wang Xiaomie thought about Yi Yan’s actions and how his clever Xiao Wenzi could guess most of it, and even came up with several possible solutions, Wang Xiaomie felt reassured again.
Indeed, this was a duel between two bigshots, and someone like him, a small fry, shouldn’t try to speculate.
From a personal perspective, Wang Xiaomie absolutely believed that his Xiao Wenzi was more powerful. But what was causing this pesky unease after all…
Wang Xiaomie pressed his stiff hands against his chest. The restlessness and ominous premonition he felt in the tomb palace surged up again, weighing heavily on his chest and making him feel uncomfortable.
He sat motionless until daylight, when suddenly there were sounds of dragging in the wooden cabin, accompanied by loud clanging noises of metal hitting wood or something else.
For a moment, it felt as if there were dozens of mute workers toiling outside.
Wang Xiaomie frowned.
“Could it be villagers?”
Come to think of it, he hadn’t seen any villagers when he arrived here.
The sounds outside were getting louder, and they seemed very close to the wooden cabin. The windows and doors of the cabin were covered with paper in the antique style, making the interior very dark once closed.
The dimness of the room affected his vision, but heightened his hearing. The dragging sound became clearer and seemed to scrape over his eardrums as if something heavy were being dragged across a floor covered in sand and gravel.
His hair stood on end.
His black pupils slowly contracted. Wang Xiaomie pursed his lips and glanced at the large cloth sack beside him. Purple Hair was probably hurt, and seemed to be resting since their last interaction.
The sounds were too close. He hadn’t heard anyone speaking, only the dragging.
Rubbing his arms, Wang Xiaomie exerted effort to move his body, stumbling step by step toward the wooden door. As he approached, the sound became clearer…
What could it be…
Wang Xiaomie took a deep breath, quietly stopping in front of the wooden door. Slowly, he leaned his face closer to the door. There was a spot on the edge of the newly pasted paper where it hadn’t adhered properly. He carefully peeled it back with his fingernail, then pressed his eye against the gap.
At first glance, he saw a slightly brighter light than in the room itself. His black pupils quickly contracted and dilated again to adapt to the light. In his field of vision to the right, there was a staggering figure, moving clumsily and head swaying heavily in front of his door.
The person wore a plain navy blue striped T-shirt and a pair of ordinary trousers that could be bought for twenty yuan in the market. A slightly worn belt was fastened around his waist. His body leaned to the right as if dragging something heavy.
The sound of metal scraping against gravel made one’s teeth ache.
Next to the dusty white paper, a hole revealed an eye, cautiously observing.
When the person approached, the black pupils blinked, seeing what was in his hand—
It was a large copper-golden sword, the blade about three to four centimeters thick, and as wide as a saber. Standing upright, it would probably reach a person’s waist.
No wonder he had to drag it; such a large sword must be heavy!
Wang Xiaomie glanced into the distance and saw several villagers walking around the wooden buildings, dragging similar large swords without saying a word. They all had a gloomy demeanor, walking with their heads down, circling around the area where they lived.
Wang Xiaomie looked at their weapons with trepidation and muttered softly, “Isn’t it said that golden weapons are the hardest to refine? Why does it seem like Yi Yan is mass-producing them like on an assembly line here?”
He thought his voice was low enough, but as soon as he finished speaking, the villager who had been wandering in front of his door suddenly stopped in his tracks!
Damn, what kind of ears does he have?!
Wang Xiaomie was about to step away from the door when, in the next moment, the man raised his head in his direction—
“!!!”
After Wang Xiaomie saw his face clearly, his mind went blank, and his lips trembled for a few moments.
Faceless…
The man’s face was as flat as a wooden board! There was no mouth, no nose, no eyebrows, only a blood-red giant eye that almost occupied the entire face!!!
And now, this blood-red eyeball was rolling and looking at Wang Xiaomie!
“Sss—”
Wang Xiaomie gasped in cold air, feeling his hands and feet turning cold. He staggered back two steps, almost screaming in terror.
Monster!
He instantly turned and ran back to Purple Hair, grabbing it and dragging it to the corner, breathing heavily and pale-faced as he crouched against the wall, staring tightly at the direction of the door.
The figure of a person was reflected in the door. Wang Xiaomie was so nervous that even his slow-beating heart seemed to leap to his throat. But the monster didn’t move.
The door was locked from the outside, and Wang Xiaomie didn’t hear any unlocking sounds.
The monster outside stood motionless.
Wang Xiaomie dared not blink, staring at the door, clutching Purple Hair’s sack tightly.
Time seemed to slow down. He didn’t know if it had been tens of minutes or just a few minutes, but the shadow on the door finally disappeared.
He’s gone…
Wang Xiaomie collapsed on the ground, feeling cold all over, and wiped the sweat from his forehead.
The empty face and the blood-red giant eyeball kept replaying in his mind.
Wang Xiaomie pursed his lips and couldn’t help but curse, “Fuck! Sick pervert!”
What kind of twisted aesthetic sense did they have to create such puppets?!
No wonder he hadn’t seen any villagers. So this whole village was built temporarily by these terrifying puppets. How could anyone play here with monsters wielding dragon-slaying swords all over the damn place?!
Wang Xiaomie counted on his fingers: Wen Fengjin (old), himself (weak), Little Purple Hair (disabled), An Xie… who was met by Yi Yan with so much equipment and a fighting team of tomb raiders, plus his built-in ‘Since ancient times, spearmen have Luck E‘ buff, already counted as ‘sick’.
… Seriously, with the four of them, old, weak, disabled, and sick, how were they supposed to kill a village full of these monsters wielding dragon-slaying swords and Yi Yan with his off the charts strength stats?
Were they supposed to add coins?!
Wang Xiaomie: Hello, customer service? Give me a V8 Noble, the package with a halo that can knock people out.
This fuck doesn’t have a halo, what should I do?!
Wang Xiaomie stared worriedly at the door, his face sinking. The stuffy air seeped in, cicadas chirping anxiously, and there was a scent of imminent rain in the air.
“Fengjin…”
They originally had a seventy percent chance of success, but now they probably had to cut that in half!
Wang Xiaomie closed his eyes.
His thick black eyelashes trembled.
His mouth tasted bitter.
[Author’s note: [Mini Theater]
Wen Fengjin: Why am I the old in “old, weak, disabled, and sick,” huh?
Wang Xiaomie: You’re over a thousand years old, aren’t you old?
Wen Fengjin: Xiaomie, you’re also a thousand…
“Pow!”
Boss Wen, clutching his leg: … ]
