MCFEM C1

Chapter 1: This World Is Nothing but a Giant Dog-Blood Drama…

Scrraatch—

The sound of the desk leg screeching harshly against the floor startled the teacher who had been writing notes on the blackboard with chalk. He whipped his head around in shock.

Amongst the chaotic scene of slouched, lazily sprawled students, a black-haired boy standing up suddenly became the absolute center of attention.

Gu Yang wore a gloomy expression. A few strands of his untidy hair stuck across his face, making him look very much like someone who had just woken up.

“Gu, is there something wrong?” asked the young mathematics teacher nervously. Having graduated only one year earlier and already saddled with the role of homeroom teacher, he pushed his glasses up with trembling fingers, completely lost as to what was happening.

Several students, eager for drama, immediately turned around with grins, waiting to watch the spectacle.

“No, nothing.” Gu Yang tugged one corner of his mouth upward, dragged his chair back under him, and sat down again. Then, under everyone’s bemused stares, he simply laid his head back on his arm and went right back to sleep.

Mathematics teacher: “…”

Seriously, did this kid have not a shred of respect for him?

But though he thought this resentfully, he dared not say it aloud.

His own academic history was prestigious: undergraduate at Jing University, master’s at a top-ranked overseas university. His educational background and research achievements sparkled on paper. After graduation, he came straight to this school to teach.

Guanguan High was a private school with tuition fees so ludicrously expensive they could scare someone to death. Accordingly, the teachers’ salary package was downright enviable.

Many people felt that with his résumé, teaching at a high school was beneath him. But only he understood the pure happiness of seeing his monthly paycheck deposit safely into his account.

Compared to that, tolerating the spoiled tempers of young masters and ladies was nothing at all.

The slow, steady rhythm of the lecture resumed in the classroom.

Gu Yang heard every word perfectly clearly, because in truth he wasn’t sleepy in the least. The reason he kept his head down in this posture was simply to prevent himself from losing control of his facial expressions and arousing suspicion.

Just moments ago, while he had been half-dozing, a thunderous bang exploded in his mind. A book had materialized before his eyes.

The cover was tacky beyond description: a saccharine rose-pink background with a striking white-haired, handsome man cradling a sleeping beautiful boy in his arms. On the man’s lips curled a devilishly carefree smile, complemented by two swirling lines of pink decorative text:

“The Tyrannical Young Master’s Endless Road to Pursuing His Wife”

What utter garbage.

So thought Gu Yang, but even as he cursed inwardly, his body was still honest enough to flip the book open.

The more he read, however, the stranger he felt.

The Guanguan High in the book was exactly the school he now attended. Moreover, many names jumped out at him—familiar names he recognized from real life.

Could this mean… the world he lived in… was just a novel?

The thought sent him into low laughter.

That muffled sound was quickly swallowed into the crook of his arm, but even so, the classmate beside him felt a chill crawl up his spine. What was wrong with this lunatic again? He discreetly shifted his desk a few inches further away.

At last Gu Yang felt some genuine amusement, and he began leafing casually through the book again. Name after name, each one he recognized in bold print, cementing his conclusion.

The novel followed the life of the poor-born shou protagonist, who, achieving first place in the entire city, earned entrance into Guanguan High and there began the long story of his struggles.

A gambling-addicted father, a sickly mother, a younger brother still in school, and a crushed, broken self—truly the most fitting summary of the protagonist shou’s origin.

For the sake of the admissions office’s promised tuition waiver and large scholarship, he abandoned the opportunity to enroll in an elite public key-point high school and instead came to this private noble academy.

But because of his class background, he was bullied and targeted constantly.

Foremost among his tormentors was the gong protagonist. He epitomized the definition of “Heavenly Dragon” cruelty. His deeds included (but were not limited to):

• Locking the protagonist shou in a toilet stall during the frigid winter and pouring freezing water on him. 
• Framing him for theft, spreading rumors that his hands were dirty. 
• On the very morning of the university entrance exam, sending people to block and delay him until he missed the test entirely, rendering years of effort meaningless. 

Before enrolling, the protagonist shou had signed an agreement with the school stipulating that he must be admitted into Jing University and rank in the province’s top ten—otherwise, he would need to refund all grants and cover tuition in full.

Under such crushing pressure, when his mother learned the truth, she refused to be a burden anymore. She pulled out her own life-support tubes and left this world. Burdened with endless debts, the protagonist shou forewent another chance at study and instead shouldered the responsibility of working to support his younger brother.

That was the first half of the book.

The second half followed the protagonist entering society. Years later, he reunited with his gong counterpart, initiating a classic “broken-mirror-rejoined” romance.

Yes—there was no hellish “regret chasing at the crematorium,” only reconciliation.

Such venomous plotting!

Although Gu Yang’s own grades weren’t particularly impressive, every citizen of Huaguo had an ingrained, instinct-level obsession with the university entrance exam. So when he flipped straight to the cliché “happy ending” finale, he could only shout silently in disbelief: What a load of bull—!

The epilogue went further, summarizing every individual’s fate. In it, Gu Yang even found his own name.

His role was merely cannon fodder with only a handful of scenes—there to oppose the gong protagonist, end up with his entire family bankrupt, and ultimately be crushed when the gong purchased his ruined company. A pathetic and bitter end.

A typical person, upon learning they were a “cannon fodder,” would surely panic. They might scramble to latch on to the protagonist’s thigh or find some desperate way to salvage their fate.

But Gu Yang was not “a typical person.”

If someone placed in front of him a button that could annihilate the entire world, he would hit it without a second’s hesitation.

So what was family bankruptcy? If that day truly came, he figured he might even buy fireworks to celebrate.

Possessing such a gloriously warped frame of mind, Gu Yang flipped back through the novel again.

Not only did it feature abhorrently toxic moral logic, it also boasted an absurdly overwrought word count, cramming every character—even minor ones—with exhaustive personal arcs.

But for someone like Gu Yang, who now lived inside this world, the book was essentially a gorgeously detailed gossip handbook.

[This sure as hell beats listening to this damn class.]

The sudden, crystal-clear voice reaching every classmate’s ears made several spines stiffen. They all knew it instantly—the air of arrogance, soaked with gloom, was far too recognizable.

Had Gu Yang gone completely insane? How dare he say something like that out loud in class?!

Second-hand embarrassment struck everyone at once. Students who had been ignoring the lecture all focused on the math teacher’s narrow back with urgent intensity.

When the teacher turned and saw so many earnest faces staring back, he almost dropped the chalk in fright.

What the hell? Today of all days, why were they suddenly so attentive?

Knowing the kind of people he dealt with, the math teacher felt not touched, but terrified. Asking questions was out of the question—he grit his teeth and forged ahead with teaching.

“I swear, Xiaofeng’s been playing dumb more and more lately.”

The faint glow of a group-chat window popped open. Sitting by the window in the third row, a long-haired girl resting her chin in one palm typed idly with the other.

Her lead drew instant reactions from her classmates.

“Gu Yang acts too arrogant, though. Teacher or not, he really couldn’t show even a little respect?”

“Poor Teacher Liu—he looks about to shatter, lol.”

“Gu Yang’s been crazy from the start, hasn’t he? Don’t tell me you guys are just figuring this out today. Must be some hereditary illness, seriously.”

“Cheng Zishi, are you tired of living? Talking trash about the Gu family? Careful, screenshots travel fast—better be ready.”

“…”

For all their shallow, disposable ties, even a class that split into twenty cliques for just a dozen students still had a basic principle: you don’t drag private dirt into broad daylight.

“What the hell did our family patriarch Gu get up to last night? Slept all day, spooked me suddenly like a corpse revival just now, and then passed right back out.”

“Who knows? Probably too much time in prison brothels, eh.”

“Oh?”

“Oh???”

Those suggestive words reignited the entire group’s gossip lust. Though the messages were anonymous, anonymity hardly dampened their excitement.

“Ohoho, sounds like you know something juicy. Come on, out with it.”

“Heh. What, you’re telling me nobody knows about Gu Yang and that Mr. Gu?”

“What? I thought it was just a rumor. Wait, it’s for real? No way, the Gu family’s really that messy?”

“No way! I always thought it was an edgelord meme-tier joke… they seriously played that out? Man…”

“What, what? What are you guys talking about? Which Mr. Gu? What gossip is there about Gu Yang?”

“Kiddo, go sit at the children’s table. This convo’s R-rated. @TaroCoconutJelly”

“??? What do you mean I’m unworthy of knowing?? You guys are actually excluding me here? @+1”

“That anonymous guy better watch their tongue. What are you, their family’s bedside floor lamp or something?”

Ying Jiayi typed again, her fresh cat-eye black-blue manicure tapping the screen with tiny clicks, drowned out by the sound of chalk on the blackboard.

“If there weren’t anything, would rumors this scandalous spread at all? Where’s that nonsense about no smoke without a fire? With as many eyes as the Gu family has on them, gossip’s bound to escape without needing me to see it firsthand.”

Tsk, tsk.

Ying Jiayi shook her head pityingly. Out of the corner of her eye, she glanced at the boy on her right. A cold, disciplined profile, shirt sleeves neatly rolled, his lean frame upright as if even if the sky fell, he wouldn’t bend.

Oh, Shen Mingjun. To think that behind the façade of “model student,” you were the one slinging obscene rumors.

Not that she had clairvoyance, but this was already posted once on the school forums—notorious because the individuals involved were far too high-profile. The second it was posted, it blew up.

For some reason, the forum was abruptly changed to a real-name system, and the poster’s actual information was instantly exposed.

Though the rumor thread was swiftly deleted, Shen Mingjun rushed to salvage himself—claiming his account was hacked, insisting he hadn’t known what was published under his name.

[Ha.]

The nearly inaudible chuckle that followed froze their frantic typing fingers mid-sentence.

It was far, far too familiar.

Every time Gu Yang laughed like that, something—or someone—was destined for ruin.

…Could it really be that he psychically sensed them gossiping about him?

[That dead-faced Shen Mingjun, putting on high-and-mighty airs at school. Turns out he’s just an illegitimate son, born to a mistress who knowingly intruded. Even forced the legal wife to her death, just to climb into her place. Amazing.]

The words hung in the air, and the entire class fell silent in pure shock.

Holy shit. Was that true?

In that very moment, the cold, straight back in the front row suddenly collapsed forward.