After Unbinding the Simp System, I'm Targeted by the Villain - Chapter 17

“Is that so?”

Yu Chucheng quickly raised his hand in a swearing gesture. “It’s the absolute truth.”

But a deadly oath swirled around the tip of his tongue, and in the end, he didn’t dare utter it. After all, if something as wild as transmigrating into a book could happen to him, it wasn’t impossible that he’d actually be struck by lightning if he lied.

Fortunately, Duan Huaijin didn’t press him. He simply led him up to the third floor, pulled out his keys, and opened the door.

Only the living room light was on inside.

Seeing Yu Chucheng hesitate at the threshold, Duan Huaijin spoke up, “No need to take off your shoes, just come in.”

Yu Chucheng slowly stepped into the dimly lit apartment.

The moment he entered, he felt a wave of despair for the human condition. This place was even worse than the “old, broken, and small” place Yu Chucheng had rented. It wasn’t just tiny; the waterproofing was terrible. Water stains crept up the corners of all four walls, and the dampness was so chronic that the plaster at the bottom was peeling away.

The orientation was bad, too. The windows were small; even if they faced the sun, very little light would make it in during the day.

However, Duan Huaijin’s own room was kept meticulously tidy by its owner, making it at least presentable.

Yu Chucheng looked around curiously.

In the center of the bedroom was a 1.2-meter wide wooden bed that looked rock-hard. In the corner by the window sat a school desk exactly like the ones they had in high school. On it was a desk lamp that wasn’t plugged in, and the drawers were empty.

Yu Chucheng had assumed that for a top student like Duan Huaijin, the bedroom would be piled high with study materials and the walls would be plastered with awards.

Duan Huaijin handed the folded jacket to Yu Chucheng, along with the ring box.

“Try to keep a better hold of it this time.”

“How did it end up with you?”

“You left it in your jacket last time. I brought it back with me.”

“Oh, I see…”

Yu Chucheng felt like the ring box was a hot potato—annoying and an eyesore. He stuffed it away haphazardly. He took his things and prepared to leave, about to say there was no need to see him out.

Just then—

“Duan Huaijin!”

The front door was thrown open from the outside, and a man rushed in.

The man was tall but gaunt, his cheeks deeply sunken. At first glance, Yu Chucheng thought a pair of tree branches had grown legs and were sprinting toward him.

Duan Haixiang looked like he was being chased. His breathing was ragged, and a large portion of his dark green T-shirt was soaked through with sweat.

He froze for a second when he saw Yu Chucheng, clearly not expecting a stranger in the house. But he couldn’t be bothered with that now; what he needed most at this moment was money.

Duan Haixiang shoved past Yu Chucheng and burst into Duan Huaijin’s bedroom.

Losing his balance, Yu Chucheng slammed into the corner of the desk. The dull thud against his waist made him suck in a sharp breath of pain.

“Huaijin, those debt collectors came looking for me at the construction site again today. You have to help your father!” Duan Haixiang grabbed Duan Huaijin’s arm like a drowning man clutching a straw. “We can’t sell the old house in the countryside; it was left by the ancestors. Didn’t you promise to help me pay? Where’s the money?”

Duan Huaijin spoke calmly, “My part-time wages haven’t been paid yet.”

Duan Haixiang: “What about the money you saved before? Bring it out and help me fill this hole first, or the interest is just going to keep snowballing!”

Yu Chucheng, rubbing his aching waist, couldn’t help but interrupt, “You ran up the debt yourself, figure it out yourself. What does it have to do with Duan Huaijin?”

Duan Haixiang whirled around. “You’re an outsider! Stay out of our family business! This has nothing to do with you!”

With that, Duan Haixiang began rummaging through Duan Huaijin’s bedroom.

He flung open the wardrobe, tossing Duan Huaijin’s neatly folded clothes onto the bed. He yanked open the nightstand drawer, scattering various receipts and documents across the floor.

“Where did you hide the bank card? Tell me where you hid it!!”

Duan Haixiang’s chest heaved, his expression distorted and his eyes wild as he searched—the spitting image of a desperate addict.

The bedroom, which had been clean and orderly a minute ago, was a disaster zone in an instant.

Yu Chucheng’s fingers tightened. A nameless fire rose from deep within his body. Forgetting the jacket over his arm and the pain in his side, he strode forward and grabbed Duan Haixiang by the collar.

“If you have the guts to gamble, have the guts to pay it back! Stop acting like a lunatic in here!”

“Get lost! Who do you think you are?”

“Who am I? I just know you’re a piece of work. You’re the one who gambled, you’re the one who owes a mountain of debt. You brought this on yourself.”

“Since he promised me, he has to help me pay! Hand over the bank card today, or I’ll smash everything in this room! If my life is miserable, he’s going down with me—”

“He’s your son, not an ATM!!”

Yu Chucheng roared.

Even if it was only in name, why wouldn’t the man even try to pretend?

He didn’t know why he was so angry. Part of it was his guilt toward Duan Huaijin tonight, and part of it was feeling a sense of injustice on Duan Huaijin’s behalf. Either way, it felt as if someone had tossed a match into a pile of dry kindling in his chest, and the fire was roaring.

Duan Haixiang dazed for a moment, stunned by the roar. He instinctively retorted, “What son? He’s not my…”

Mid-sentence, Duan Haixiang suddenly snapped to his senses. Cold sweat broke out across his back, and he bit back the rest of his words.

His wrinkled eyelids twitched violently. Summoning strength from nowhere, he shoved Yu Chucheng away.

“Ugh!” Yu Chucheng fell backward, instinctively closing his eyes and bracing for the impact against the wall.

But what met him wasn’t a hard wall. It was a chest—softer than a wall, warm, and smelling faintly of bamboo leaves.

Duan Huaijin’s arm wrapped over his shoulder, supporting him steadily from behind. “Let’s go. I’ll walk you downstairs.”

Yu Chucheng wasn’t done yet. He wanted to get a few more jabs in at this old scoundrel. He stayed rigid, glaring at Duan Haixiang, who only knew how to be a bully at home.

Duan Huaijin lowered his voice helplessly, a few stray threads of his pheromones drifting into the air. “Leave him be. A small thing like this isn’t worth getting angry over.”

The faint, crisp scent of bamboo wrapped gently around Yu Chucheng like a cool spring, gradually dousing the flames in his heart.

Yu Chucheng came back to his senses. He had intended to stand up for Duan Huaijin, but he’d ended up getting so worked up he was nearly fuming.

Seeing Yu Chucheng calm down, Duan Huaijin’s hand on his shoulder patted him twice. “We won’t stoop to his level. Be good.”

Duan Huaijin had a very pleasant voice, especially when he spoke softly. It felt like a summer night breeze, making Yu Chucheng’s ears grow warm and tingly.

Yu Chucheng’s eyelashes fluttered.

Duan Huaijin’s words sounded… odd. Almost like he was coaxing a child.

Feeling flustered, he nudged himself to the side to put some distance between them, muttering incoherently, “Who’s stooping? I just have a strong sense of justice and a hatred for evil.”

The corners of Duan Huaijin’s lips curved slightly. “Mm. You’re right. You’re a model citizen who loves to help people.”

Yu Chucheng: “…”

Damn, that definitely felt like he was coaxing a three-year-old.

His gaze lingered on the slight curve of Duan Huaijin’s mouth for two seconds before he awkwardly turned his head and touched his neck.

This was the first time he had seen Duan Huaijin smile. Though it wasn’t very obvious, and the joy didn’t quite reach his eyes—didn’t even crinkle the corners of them—it was still…

Devastatingly handsome.