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Life Exchange Game

Xia Yu finds himself in an alternate world where he belongs to a single-parent, a financially struggling family. Unlike his previous life as a well-off only child. After living for 18 years with no system, Xia Yu unexpectedly receives an odd "body-swapping game" system. The system allows him to swap or take over the bodies of of any Human or Animal for eight hours a day, in turn acquires various skills called "bonuses" after a successful swap, gaining their speciality. Curiosity and the desire to escape from his mundane life leads Xia Yu to experiment with the system. Ding- [Body exchange has been completed.] [Generating bonus based on the other party's body...] [Obtained bonuses: Music lv1, Painting lv1, Flower Arrangement lv1.] "Well It seems I don't need to sell this body's kidney or get a loan in their name anymore."

Xenal · Urban
Zu wenig Bewertungen
446 Chs

Wen Ziying : The Mission is Almost Complete

Facing Xia Yu's doubts, Wen Ziying replied, "It's too heavy, being the winner of the Chen Award, a master of anti-utopian modern literature. I'm really just an ordinary literary girl!"

"Are you really going to stop writing?" Xia Yu asked.

"I'll hold a press conference tomorrow!" Wen Ziying answered firmly.

"Wouldn't you regret anything?" Xia Yu asked again. It is better to ask this clearly now than to regret it later.

"If I had left before, I might have felt some regret, but now that I've won the Chen Award, what do I have to regret?" Wen Ziying retorted.

"Once you've made up your mind, I'll introduce you to a job," Xia Yu promised.

"Alright," Wen Ziying agreed, "Throw out the manuscript paper quickly, let's play games!"

Picking up the manuscript paper in front of him, Xia Yu threw them into the trash bin and opened the game on Wen Ziying 's notebook.

Playing until morning, Xia Yu returned to his own body.

Wen Ziying stood up and stretched lazily.

Although she had stayed up all night, she didn't feel tired.

Opening the cabinet, she took out all the manuscript papers inside.

Here were the beginnings of her previous novels, essays, and poems.

Moving these manuscript papers out, Wen Ziying found a cardboard box and put them inside. She then opened a locked drawer, took out all the original manuscripts of her novels so far, and threw them into the box.

Carrying the box, she came to the yard.

"Miss," the nanny came up to help, but Wen Ziying refused.

Putting the box down, Wen Ziying asked the nanny for a lighter and set the manuscript papers on fire.

The flames burned the air, black ashes floated upward, rising into the sky and disappearing.

The ashes in Wen Ziying 's heart also slowly dispersed and melted.

When her father was still alive, she liked to write stories and essays because it made her mother happy. But after her father's death, everything changed.

Although she would still see her mother's happy smile when she handed over her finished works, Wen Ziying knew her mother was not happy for her, but happy for the manuscript to be published.

After a while, she completely lost her passion and inspiration for writing as a young girl. But what followed was her mother's oppression.

Writing changed from a joyful activity to a mundane one, and then to a painful one.

Even now, Wen Ziying could still feel the fear of those years in her nightmares.

She had written many essays and poems, but did not dare to submit a single one. Because when she was young, she wrote these, and whenever a submission was rejected, her mother would press her down on a small table and make her reflect.

After purposely avoiding these memories, Wen Ziying thought she had forgotten them and rekindled her passion for writing.

However, six months ago, due to the adaptation of "Swan" and a poorly written book, she faced online criticism, was blocked at her doorstep, and accused in letters. This made Wen Ziying feel that fear again. Her passion for writing and her efforts to seek new experiences were not to write better stories, but to avoid blame.

She hated this job, hated the tear-stained manuscript, hated the pen gripped by her reddened palm, hated the low table that required her to bend over, and hated the surrounding noises.

"Madam," the nanny's voice woke Wen Ziying up.

Looking towards the doorway, Wen Ziying saw her mother, Bian Guping.

Bian Guping stood at the threshold, staring blankly at the burning manuscript.

"Keep an eye on my mom," Wen Ziying told the nanny.

She stepped away, returned to her room, and took out the morning award trophy.

She stuffed the trophy into Bian Guping's arms: "This is for you, something you've always wanted."

Not paying attention to Bian Guping's reaction, Wen Ziying left the house. She took out her bicycle from the garage and sped along the village path, venting her emotions.

By noon, her emotions had mostly subsided, and Wen Ziying returned home.

As she passed by Bian Guping's room, she glanced inside, her mother was not staring at the chrysanthemums in the courtyard but at the morning award trophy.

Wen Ziying couldn't remember how her mother had gone mad; her only memory was of paper scraps scattered all over the floor, torn apart, and her mother's proudest piece of prose about chrysanthemums.

Withdrawing her gaze, she went to the kitchen, grabbed some food to stave off hunger, and returned to her bedroom.

After calling the publisher to inform them of her decision, Wen Ziying also posted on the forum.

With the task done, she put down her phone and finally relaxed.

Not writing novels anymore, what should she do next? She wondered.

In the past, her days were spent either writing novels or conceiving them, occasionally playing games to numb herself, and nothing else.

Now with no more novels to write, her life suddenly felt empty.

After searching within herself for a while, Wen Ziying found something she was interested in.

Who was the self-proclaimed stand-in messenger?

At this moment, the stand-in messenger Xia Yu was looking at the post Wen Ziying had just published.

Xia Yu's first reaction was to sigh: she really stopped writing.

Then, he thought of his mission.

Introducing Wen Ziying to work at the Yu family, and guiding her life should be considered complete; the star fragments would soon be his.

He smiled.

"What's so funny?" Xu Youxiang handed a potato chip to his face.

"Something is finally coming to an end," Xia Yu opened his mouth and bit a potato chip while also biting Xu Youxiang's finger.

After eating Xu Youxiang's potato chip on the left, An Siyao on the right offered him an apple slice.

Putting the apple slice in Xia Yu's mouth, An Siyao quickly withdrew her hand, afraid that Xia Yu would bite her.

But while she could avoid her fingers being bitten, she couldn't avoid her face.

Hu Lianglu, who sat opposite the three of them, watched Xia Yu being embraced on both sides with cold eyes.

"What's done?" Xu Youxiang asked again.

Xia Yu thought for a moment and replied, "Something about a game account."

The game account was a euphemism, and both An Siyao and Xu Youxiang knew about it.

"So you got involved with another woman?" Xu Youxiang pulled back her hand, making Xia Yu bite the air.

"Not really. I'm happy because I'm about to get something, something magical, but I don't know what it is yet," Xia Yu explained to the two of them.

"What is it? I'll buy it for you," An Siyao tried to win Xia Yu's favor with money.

"It's not an ordinary item. If you can see it, I'll let you take a look when I get it."

After spending some intimate time with the two, Xia Yu approached Xu Youxiang. He had to start working; the research on the medicine for the gradual freezing syndrome was not yet complete.

In the afternoon, during the break, Xia Yu generously read Xu Youxiang's retirement announcement using her body.

"You actually have an affair with your junior sister!" Xu Youxiang snorted, but couldn't help asking curiously, "You mean by helping her quit the literary circle?"

"Yep." Xia Yu nodded, "I plan to introduce her to Yu Ningmeng as a translator. Rest assured, I won't get involved."

Xia Yu thought, once the introduction was done, the star fragments would probably be within his grasp.