An Ill-Fated Bond

After leaving the hospital, Wen Shuang followed his memories and hailed a cab home.

The original owner's place had one bedroom and one living room, with decent decor, but being in the city center, the rent was terrifyingly high. After getting home, Wen Shuang first took stock of anything valuable. There were only a few expensive watches, and together with the savings in the bank card, it came to fifty thousand at most. No wonder the original owner had tried to seduce Xuan Zhe. At his spending rate, fifty thousand would disappear in no time.

The original owner did not have many belongings. Wen Shuang packed a few outfits and some necessities, filling exactly one suitcase. Without hesitation, he called the landlord to terminate the lease, then dragged his suitcase out to get lunch. While eating, he searched for housing and actually found a suitable place. It was a half-hour bus ride from the city center, also with one bedroom and one living room, fully furnished, with rent at twelve hundred a month and ready for immediate move-in. It was practically made for him.

Seeing how straightforward he was, the new landlord brought him a bag of apples after Wen Shuang moved in, saying they were from his hometown and very sweet.

They really were sweet. Wen Shuang was curled up on the sofa now, eating an apple while searching online for work. With a swish, swish, swish, he sent out several resumes. Wen Shuang was quite confident. Unlike the original owner, who had devoted himself entirely to figuring out how to rise through the ranks, he preferred to keep his feet on the ground. He had genuine skills, and then there was his social circle. Wen Shuang opened WeChat, and the moment he saw the contact notes, his vision went dark.

Meal Ticket No. 1, Meal Ticket No. 2... Useless Backup, Decent Bootlicker... and so on. He could not reach the end even after scrolling for a while.

The apple in Wen Shuang's mouth suddenly did not taste sweet anymore. Through those nearly explicit labels, he glimpsed a cold and lifeless soul.

Pretty pitiful. Wen Shuang scratched his head and deleted everyone he had not contacted in over three months. The page immediately looked much cleaner.

That night, Wen Shuang did not have any nightmares. His heart simply felt as though it had been steeped in warm sour water, filled with an indescribable melancholy and bitterness. Although his parents had died early in his original world, he had always lived happily. He had two or three close friends, and his relatives had cared for him well. Unfortunately, he could not go back.

The next morning, Wen Shuang was awakened by the ringing of his phone. "Hello?"

"Hello, is this Mr. Wen? This is Starwing Group." The caller spoke standard Mandarin in a rigid, businesslike tone.

Wen Shuang sat up at once. "Hello."

"We have reviewed your resume and think it is very impressive. Would you be available to come to the company for an interview this afternoon?"

Am I available? I could not be more available. "No problem. Two o'clock? Okay, okay."

His childhood experiences and his parents' upbringing had made Wen Shuang open-minded. Though he had never been particularly willing to accept that he had transmigrated into a novel, he acted with remarkable decisiveness. He had to look ahead. Since he could not return for the time being, he would first make the best of the life in front of him.

Wen Shuang dug a formal outfit out of his suitcase. After putting it on, he tousled his hair in front of the mirror, went out for a bowl of wontons, and took the bus to Starwing Group.

Wen Shuang arrived twenty minutes early. Several people were already waiting outside the interview room, but they were all competitors, so no one spoke. Each occupied their own territory. When they heard him arrive, they all looked up in unison, then resumed what they were doing with varying expressions.

Wen Shuang did not force himself into the situation and found a corner instead.

Before the interview even began, someone came rushing over in a panic. No one knew what he said, but the scene instantly descended into chaos. Everyone seemed to have gone mad.

Wen Shuang was nearby and caught some of the conversation between the interview supervisor and the man. It seemed that a translator had been stuck in traffic. But that should not have been a problem. Starwing was a major company, and there was no shortage of talented people. Surely someone knew seven or eight languages?

But perhaps it was just that unlucky. The man said something else to the interview supervisor, who suddenly looked over at them, took two steps forward, and asked, "Which one of you speaks the language of G Country?"

G Country? Since the civilizations of the two worlds overlapped to a high degree, Wen Shuang knew that the language of G Country was difficult. A misplaced retroflex sound could alter the meaning entirely. He swept his gaze around. No one?

The interview supervisor's face turned ashen. He said to the guy who had delivered the news, "Do you think President Xuan will kill us?"

"Have a little confidence. He'll hang us from the company rooftop."

Wen Shuang did not catch everything clearly. He only knew they desperately needed a G Country translator. Seeing that no one stepped forward, he said quietly, "I can..."

Without exaggeration, those words, "I can," were no different from a savior descending from heaven to the interview supervisor. He had been given a new lease on life! He craned his neck toward Wen Shuang, his eyes going wide. "You can?!"

Wen Shuang demonstrated with action, speaking a greeting on the spot. The supervisor had no idea whether his pronunciation was standard, but he knew this young man was his Purple Tenuity Star, capable of pulling everyone out of this mess!

"Come!" The supervisor grabbed Wen Shuang's wrist. The single word seemed squeezed from his chest, making Wen Shuang feel as though he was not going in as a translator, but carrying explosives to blow up a tower.

They raced all the way to the eighteenth floor. The supervisor left Wen Shuang at the door, immediately becoming extremely cautious as he coaxed him forward. "Go in. Yes."

Wen Shuang: "..."

Feeling rather speechless, he knocked on the door first. Only after hearing "Come in" did he push it open.

The moment he looked up, their eyes met. The man sat on the sofa with one leg crossed over the other, his chin propped on one hand. He was indescribably noble and elegant. Upon seeing Wen Shuang, he raised an eyebrow.

Wen Shuang instinctively took a step back. He wanted to... leave.

Bang! The door shut behind him.

Wen Shuang: "..."