Not Even Time to Hang Himself

Life was hard; the wage slave sighed.

Yan Ningke looked at the work schedule in his hand and silently chanted to himself.

Stay calm, stay calm, I won't get mad. If anger makes me sick, no one can suffer in my place.

Fuck it, let it all burn!

Make breakfast at 7 a.m.

Clean the kitchen and feed the dog at 8.

Water the flowers at 9.

Clean the house at 10.

Prepare lunch at 11.

Eat at noon.

1 p.m., 2 p.m., 3 p.m...

Finish the day's work at 10 p.m.

Yan Ningke smiled.

How wonderful. Not even time to hang myself.

"Mr. Yan, let me take you to get acquainted with Lars."

"Who?"

Puzzled, Yan Ningke followed the butler.

In a corner of the garden, he met a pair of utterly clear eyes.

Lars.

A show-quality husky.

With jet-black fur and a powerful build, he gazed majestically at Yan Ningke.

His tail wagged like a propeller behind him.

It all happened in a flash. Sensing something wrong, Yan Ningke had barely taken a step back before he was knocked to the ground.

"Aaaaah!"

Help!

You bastard heavens! He'd only just transmigrated here, and already his short life was about to end?

Wait, wouldn't dying be better?

Wouldn't that let him transmigrate back?

Thinking of the paycheck he'd just received in the other world, and those fresh chicken drumsticks, Yan Ningke gave in.

He lay flat.

Come on, ravage me as hard as you like.

Don't hold back.

"Hah~"

The pain he imagined never came. Instead, a puff of damp breath washed over his face.

Followed by repeated licking.

Yan Ningke opened his hollow eyes and stared at the dog still slathering him in drool, bitterly disappointed in him!

Where was the ferocity? The brutality?

What was with this bootlicking act!

On behalf of your ancestors, I'm ashamed of you!

"Oh dear, Mr. Yan, are you all right?"

Uncle Zhong frantically tried to pull the dog away, but the husky clung stubbornly to this sweet, delectable human.

Yan Ningke braced a hand against the dog's face and managed a brave smile. "I'm fine."

But I hope this stupid husky won't be!

Beat him up!

"Lars!"

A resonant voice rang out from the second-floor loft.

Lars sprang up reflexively, sat in the courtyard, and barked toward the second floor. "Woof~"

He looked perfectly obedient.

Taking Uncle Zhong's hand, Yan Ningke got to his feet and looked up toward the second floor.

Shao Ke's eyes and brows were hidden beneath tousled, fluffy hair. In the warm orange sunset, he looked soft and fuzzy, which diluted his innate cool aloofness just a little.

Gulp.

Yan Ningke swallowed hard.

So this was what it meant to be heaven's favorite.

So fucking handsome!

I wonder what it'd be like to be pinned beneath someone like that...

Yan Ningke felt a slight tingling at the base of his spine.

In his previous life, the pressures of living had allowed him to keep his nature in check.

Having suddenly transmigrated here, his restless desires were plain to see.

Especially when Uncle Zhong showed him to the housekeeper's room on the first floor.

A two-meter-wide Simmons bed, a silk duvet, a separate shower, and that whirlpool bathtub!

"Uncle Zhong, I'll take the job!"

Yan Ningke looked as resolute as if he were about to join the Party. "I believe I'm the only person for this job!"

No one had better try to take it from him!

In that very second, he understood.

Heaven had its own plans. Since it had sent him here, there had to be a reason.

What was that reason?

Naturally, it was for him to save a handsome man, live in a luxurious villa, and be a kept man...

Pah, it was for him to save the world!

Exactly! That was it!

Looking troubled, Uncle Zhong said, "Mr. Yan, perhaps you aren't aware yet. What I'm trying to say is that, for certain reasons, Mr. Shao has a rather bad temper, so..."

"Say no more! Uncle Zhong, it's my bounden duty!"

Yan Ningke wouldn't budge an inch.

Crazy? Could he be crazier than me?

This life wasn't worth a damn. As long as I got to enjoy it, I'd be happy!

Otherwise, he'd end up like he had in his last life, saving up a pile of money only to croak without spending a single cent.

What was the moral of that story?

Anyone who passed up a good life was a bloody fool!

When he heard the monthly salary, his conviction became an even more unshakable resolve to brave hell himself rather than leave it to anyone else.

"How much!?"

"Twenty-eight thousand!?"

Uncle Zhong nodded politely.

Well, well, well. Even half a year of backbreaking work might not earn him twenty-eight thousand.

Twenty-eight thousand just to cook, clean the house, and walk the dog!?

Yan Ningke wanted to flip someone off!

He'd worked himself nearly bald for a few scraps of silver, while this man already had a mansion, a luxury car, and a net worth of over a hundred million at twenty-seven.

And he could even pay a wage slave like him a salary.

Comparisons really could make a person die of anger.

With things more or less settled, Uncle Zhong took out the employment agreement and had Yan Ningke sign his name under Party B.

From then on, he was part of this mansion.

-as the housekeeper.

At the second-floor study, Uncle Zhong knocked respectfully and only pushed the door open after receiving permission from within.

"Young master, the contract has been signed."

Behind the desk, the man in the wheelchair continued typing, his face expressionless. "Mm."

Uncle Zhong paused, placed the agreement on the desk, and asked hesitantly, "Are you really going to keep him?"

Shao Ke raised his eyelids, his voice cool. "Uncle Zhong, it's time you returned to the old residence."

Uncle Zhong hesitated, then sighed silently a few seconds later. "Please contact me if anything comes up."

Shao Ke remained unmoving.

Uncle Zhong gave him a long look, shook his head, and left with heavy steps.

Ever since that incident, the young master's temper had grown increasingly strange.

But that was understandable.

For someone so blessed to fall to rock bottom overnight, not going mad already showed boundless restraint.

In his place, even Uncle Zhong might not have possessed such inner strength.

Burdened with worries, Uncle Zhong left the villa.

The vast house was utterly silent.

Shao Ke's lowered lashes concealed the raging turmoil in his eyes.

"Lars! You stupid dog, just try biting my ass again!"

Try it and die!

"Aaaaah! Come on! Draw your blade! I'll fight you to the death!"

In the garden, Yan Ningke rubbed his backside and glared fiercely at this "vicious dog"!

He didn't understand. Didn't dogs like eating shit?

Why had this one targeted his ass!

Could it be...?

Holy shit!

Yan Ningke leaped up, covered his backside, and rushed into the first-floor bathroom!

The original owner had screwed him over!

Panting, Lars tried to follow him in, but Yan Ningke pushed him back with one hand. "Knowing too many secrets can get you silenced!"

So you'd better get the hell out!

I need to change my pants, aaaaah!

Having heard the entire exchange from the second-floor window, Shao Ke's mind went blank and the corner of his mouth twitched.

...I wonder if it's too late to tear up the agreement.

After taking another shower, Yan Ningke looked at the underwear he'd worn and made a difficult decision.

Five minutes later, the door opened.

A cool breeze blew past.

Chilly balls!

But it felt kind of nice.

That settled it. A life of madness had to start with being a pervert!

It was growing late. As he'd discussed with Uncle Zhong earlier, today officially marked the start of his life as a housekeeper.

Yan Ningke checked the time and headed into the kitchen of his own accord.

Cooking was, of course, a piece of cake for him.

In the other world, he'd been an orphan and had lived independently since middle school. The idea that he couldn't cook was simply absurd.

At first, it had been a way to save money. After he started working, cooking became a way to relieve stress.

Watching dish after dish become works of art in his hands, perfect in appearance, aroma, and taste.

It filled him with a sense of accomplishment.