After Transmigrating into a Novel with My Boyfriend, He Turned Out to Be a Native Villain

The moment those words left her lips, Bo Jingmo’s gaze visibly trembled. His fingertips turned pale as the panic inside him pressed in like a physical force, suffocating, inescapable.

He tried to lift the corners of his lips into a smile, but couldn’t manage it. His voice was low and strained.

“Did you not eat enough? How about we—”

He even forgot to keep up his warm, gentle-senior act—something rare for him to slip on, especially while his classmate was injured and he was still out eating with a girl.

It showed how truly flustered he was.

“No need, I’m full. I’ll head back first,” Yu Li said with a soft smile.

“Next time we meet will be the weekend, Senior. See you.”

With that one sentence, she cut off the possibility of seeing him over the next few days.

A look of helplessness flashed in Bo Jingmo’s eyes. He wanted to reach out and grab her wrist, stop her from leaving.

That he hated how their precious time together had been interrupted.

That he resented Jiang Xi and Hou Liang for barging in.

But more than anything—he hated this version of himself.

On one hand, he was using underhanded tactics to pull the girl into his world. On the other, he wore this refined, polite mask, forced to watch her walk away without doing anything.

He lowered his eyes, bangs falling across his forehead. His gaze turned deep and unreadable, lips tightly pressed together, jaw clenched—like he was suppressing something. The eerie chill radiating from him was enough to make people uneasy.

His fingertips dug into his palm, nails breaking skin as blood slowly dripped down. But he didn’t seem to feel any pain.

“Sir, your hand—”

A waiter nearby noticed and rushed forward in shock to help, but Bo Jingmo abruptly turned and left the restaurant.

By the time Hou Liang and Jiang Xi came back out, there was no sign of either him or Yu Li.

—

Yu Li rarely argued with Bo Jingmo.

In fact, you could say they’d never really fought.

The only time she’d gotten upset was when they first started dating. She ignored him for a few days over something like this.

And the guy had nearly flipped the whole psychiatric hospital upside down.

He gradually changed after that, and things between them had always been calm and smooth since.

The system asked her, “Sis, are you mad?”

Mad?

Yu Li wouldn’t say she was exactly angry. Even if her silly little boyfriend had lost his memory, she could just curl her finger at him, say a few sweet words, and coax him back into the way he used to be.

But now that she had a game...

Why should she go back to using old tricks?

The scenarios were more fun—and didn’t risk exposing her real-life persona.

Yu Li patted the system’s head and smiled. “We can enter the instance tonight, right?”

She was going to help her boyfriend break this bad habit once and for all.

—

[You’re an employee at a small company. This year, the company landed a huge project, and the boss was so thrilled that he decided to take everyone on a team-building retreat to a faraway location.]

[To preserve the mystery and surprise, the boss never told anyone the destination ahead of time. He just said not to bring anything—he’d take care of it all. This generous act got everyone hyped and full of anticipation.]

[But gradually, you all realize something is wrong. The excitement fades into fear, dread, and eventually, the overwhelming urge to escape.]

[In the end, only one thought remains in your mind—just stay alive.]

The bus rumbled down a highway as the passengers nodded off from the constant jolts. Suddenly, a shrill ringtone cut through the drowsy silence.

“Riiiiiing—”

It was accompanied by a strange, ancient melody that no one could understand. The sound jolted everyone awake, and they turned to look at the person who answered.

It was a girl sitting in the front. She fumbled with her phone, cheeks flushing red as she quickly answered and mumbled, “Hello… Dad.”

The man beside her didn’t look pleased. He gave her a disapproving glance, then turned his gaze back out the window.

Qi Mai was also woken by the noise. He yawned and, after processing the information piped into his brain, slowly opened his eyes. His gaze swept around instinctively.

The moment he saw the girl next to him, his eyes lit up.

He whispered, “Guangran, Guangran.”

The girl opened her eyes at the sound and looked over at him.

Her face was pale, a little sickly, and her figure was thin. Long hair flowed down her back, her eyes were a light shade, and her lids drooped halfway, making her seem fragile. Her whole aura was soft and calm, like a gentle breeze.

Seeing Qi Mai, she nodded slightly and mouthed, “Qi-ge.”

Qi Mai carefully stood up and sat beside her, his tone somewhere between regret and schadenfreude. “Tch, Cen Xiu’s not with us again.”

Guangran chuckled. “It’s fine. He’s popular. Plenty of players know him—he’ll be able to handle it.”

From this seat, Qi Mai could better observe the rest of the bus. He stole a few glances around, and when he spotted a few familiar faces, his brows furrowed tightly.

He sat back down beside Guangran and muttered, “We’re outta luck. We got stuck with Ji Xun again. And that annoying Yi Xian’s here too.”

The disgust on his face was practically dripping—it was clear he couldn’t stand those two.

Guangran quietly reminded him, “Qi-ge, watch the persona.”

“It’s fine. My persona hates Ji Xun anyway. Saves me the trouble of pretending. I can just be real.”

That made Guangran smile helplessly and close her eyes again to rest.

But then Qi Mai suddenly whispered again in surprise, “Sh*t, he’s here too.”

He?

Guangran opened her eyes in confusion. “Who?”

Qi Mai pointed subtly to a seat not far away and leaned in, lowering his voice.

“There’s a newcomer sitting over there. Last time, he was paired with Cen Xiu. Cen said the guy’s really strong. And apparently—he’s someone important even outside the game. Like, even Cen Xiu’s cautious around him.”

Guangran raised her brows in surprise. Among their group, Cen Xiu was already considered high status. Most players were eager to team up with him.

She hadn’t expected there to be someone even more formidable.

Then Qi Mai added with a troubled look, “But apparently he has his reasons for not teaming up with anyone. So we don’t know if he’ll be a friend or foe in the scenario.”

Is that so?

Guangran followed Qi Mai’s gaze, but the man was facing the window, so she could only see the back of his head.

As if sensing the stare, the man suddenly turned and glanced over.

That one look stunned Guangran.

On the bus seat, the man’s features were sharp and cold. His narrow eyes were filled with indifference, but still carried an air of superiority—like someone born to be above others. His pupils were jet-black, deep and dangerous, giving off a chilling pressure when their eyes met.

His bangs fell across his forehead, softening the sharp edge of his expression. His straight nose, thin lips, and perfectly sculpted profile exuded a cold, restrained allure.

At that moment, Qi Mai added in a hushed tone:

“That guy’s name is… Bo Jingmo.”

—

Elsewhere, beneath the surface of a still, quiet lake, fish swam in pairs, and the lake grass swayed gently in the water.

Right in the center of it all stood a crimson-red wooden coffin, carved with ancient, intricate patterns. It radiated an eerie, disturbing aura.

Inside the sealed coffin lay a woman, her body dressed in an elaborate red gown. Her hands were crossed neatly over her abdomen in a graceful, dignified pose. From beneath her wide sleeves, a glimpse of her wrist was visible.

Her skin was unnaturally pale, fingers slender and elegant. A translucent jade bracelet hung from her wrist, highlighting the delicate shape of her bones.

A red silk veil covered her face. Embroidered in gold thread was a phoenix, glimmering with vivid luster, so lifelike it seemed ready to take flight. Golden tassels dangled from it, swaying ever so gently.

Beneath that veil, her face was stunning—arched brows, full crimson lips, jet-black hair pinned up with a redwood hairpin, and loose strands cascading over her shoulders. A decorative blossom adorned her forehead. Though her eyes remained closed, her beauty was breathtaking.

A small bird skimmed across the lake surface, sending ripples outward.

Then, beneath the veil, her lashes trembled faintly—like a butterfly beating its wings. Slowly, her foxy, seductive eyes opened, and a flash of red flickered within them.

“Boom—”

In an instant, the lake erupted in chaos. Waves surged outward from the center, layer by layer peeling back the surface—as if something was rising from the depths.

Birds resting nearby were startled, taking to the skies in a flurry of wings and panicked cries, fleeing the woods.

“Rustle rustle…”

Tree leaves rustled violently in the sudden stir.

The noise drew the attention of the nearby village. One by one, the villagers turned to look toward the lake—every single face filled with solemn dread.

This year’s disturbance…

Was definitely not normal.