Jua was finally left alone.
With no one around to bother him, he decided there was no reason to do anything productive. He simply sank back into bed and prepared to rot there for the rest of the day.
This life was genuinely too peaceful.
He didn't have to wake before dawn to cultivate. He didn't have to worry about demonic beasts tearing through his home. He didn't have to spend every waking moment watching his back or wondering if someone was going to try to kill him.
There was nothing.
Just a peaceful world filled with a few silly and annoying people.
Jua stared at the ceiling, his hands tucked comfortably behind his head.
I wonder what was so wrong with this world that it was already on the verge of destruction…
Back in the Redemption Space, he had seen countless books representing different worlds. Most of them had been golden and radiant, their pages overflowing with life and vitality.
This world was different.
It was dying.
The reason was actually rather simple. The protagonist of the original story had died too early—or, more accurately, before he was supposed to. His death had changed the trajectory of the entire world, causing the chain of events that sustained it to collapse far sooner than it should have.
Jua rested one hand beneath his head as he thought about it.
In this world, he had a feeling that the protagonist was Ying Mao.
The innocent little boy whose life was already being threatened by his stepbrother and stepmother.
If that was true, then his task was simple.
All he had to do was protect him.
That should have been easy.
Unfortunately, after living inside Jua Haisin's body and witnessing the things the boy had suffered, his meddling nature refused to remain quiet. He had already interfered far more than he originally intended.
And now there was the curse.
Jua glanced toward the ceiling, remembering the piece of paper he had used.
The curse he had placed on Ying Di might make the situation worse. If Ying Di's existing hatred toward Jua Haisin and Ying Mao grew stronger, there was a possibility that he might act against them sooner than he originally would have.
Jua frowned.
But will the world actually collapse if he gets hurt?
He sat up and rubbed the top of his head.
After a moment, he shrugged.
It should be fine. It's only a small curse. Nothing bad will happen to him.
He had absolutely no idea how wrong he was.
Ying Di stormed out of the doctor's office, his face dark enough to frighten away anyone unfortunate enough to cross his path. His nose was still aching, and the bandage wrapped around it seemed to make every breath irritating. His hands curled into fists as he thought about Jua.
Fuck that Jua Haisin.
How dare that bastard make a fool out of him?
The image of Jua standing there with that innocent expression flashed through his mind, making the anger in his chest burn hotter.
I'll show him. I'll show him exactly what happens when he crosses me.
His jaw tightened as he marched toward the entrance.
I've ignored that bastard for long enough. This time, I'll make him regret ever provoking me.
Unfortunately, the universe—or perhaps a certain little curse—seemed to have other plans.
Ying Di took another furious step forward, only for the sole of his shoe to suddenly slide across the smooth floor.
"Wha—"
His feet shot out from underneath him.
He went straight down, his face striking the ground with a painful smack. His already injured nose took the worst of it, and a sharp cry tore from his throat.
"AAAH!"
Ying Di rolled onto his back, clutching his nose as tears sprang into his eyes. For several seconds, he simply lay there in stunned disbelief before slowly turning his head toward the servants standing nearby.
"What are you idiots doing?! Why didn't any of you stop me?!"
The servants immediately scrambled toward him.
"Young Master—"
"How could you just stand there?!"
The servants exchanged helpless glances. How exactly were they supposed to stop someone from slipping? None of them had even seen it coming. But with Ying Di already furious and injured, not a single one of them was foolish enough to point that out.
Ying Di pushed himself to his feet, brushing furiously at his clothes. His face was burning with humiliation, but he forced himself to calm down.
Fine. Fine.
He could handle this.
He would get home, rest, and deal with Jua Haisin himself.
With that thought keeping him moving, he marched toward the building's entrance, only to stop abruptly when he saw the elevator doors.
A notice had been placed across them.
OUT OF ORDER.
Ying Di stared at it for several seconds.
His eyelid twitched.
"Of course."
There was no point wasting time standing there. With a sharp breath, he turned toward the staircase.
"Let's go."
The servants hurried after him.
Ying Di made it down the first flight without incident. The second flight was going just as smoothly, and for a brief moment, he thought his terrible luck had finally come to an end.
Then the edge of his shoe caught the corner of a step.
His body lurched forward.
His eyes widened.
"Oh, no—"
"YOUNG MASTER!"
That was the last warning anyone had time to give.
Ying Di tumbled down the staircase, knocking against one step after another before finally reaching the bottom and landing in an undignified heap. His hair was disheveled, his clothes were rumpled, and somehow his nose hurt even more than before.
For a few seconds, he simply remained there, staring blankly at the ceiling.
One of the servants cautiously approached.
"Young Master, are you—"
"I'm fine!"
Ying Di slapped his hand away and forced himself upright. Fortunately, nothing appeared to be broken, though every part of his body seemed to ache.
He wasn't going to let a few accidents stop him.
Just get me home.
He limped toward the car, and the driver quickly opened the door for him. Ying Di climbed inside and slammed it shut.
"Go."
The driver immediately turned the key.
The engine clicked.
Nothing happened.
He tried again.
Click.
Still nothing.
Ying Di slowly turned his head toward him.
"Start the car."
"I-I am trying, Young Master."
The driver tried again, his hands becoming increasingly nervous beneath Ying Di's glare. But the car wouldn't start.
Ying Di's eye twitched.
The engine remained stubbornly dead.
For a moment, Ying Di simply stared at the dashboard as though he could force the car to start through sheer hatred. Then he abruptly threw the door open and climbed out.
"What the hell is wrong with this car?!" He slammed the door shut and stood on the pavement, his chest rising and falling rapidly. "I've had enough!"
At that exact moment, a faint scraping sound came from above.
Ying Di froze.
Slowly, he looked up.
A flowerpot was wobbling dangerously on the edge of a nearby balcony.
His pupils contracted.
"…"
The flowerpot tipped.
"MOVE!"
There was no time.
It came crashing straight down onto his shoulders.
THUD!
"AHHH!"
Ying Di collapsed beneath the impact as the flowerpot shattered around him. Dust drifted through the air, and the servants stood completely frozen, staring at the scene in disbelief.
For several seconds, there was nothing but silence.
Then Ying Di slowly lifted his head.
His hair was covered in dirt. His clothes were stained, his shoulders ached, and his nose was bleeding again beneath the bandage that had only recently been replaced. His hands trembled as he stared at the shattered pieces of ceramic scattered around him.
"This…" His voice came out low and strained. "fuck this shit!!!!!"