Second Female Lead

Having made up his mind, Lin Yu accepted everyone’s praise without hesitation.

"Brother Long, what move was that you used the other night?"

"So damn cool!"

"You flew so high and kicked that Fire Scorpion Gang guy like five meters away!"

A red-haired gangster, clearly one of those who had witnessed Lin Yu’s skills during the rescue that night, exclaimed excitedly.

Lin Yu looked at the starry-eyed gangster and figured it wouldn’t hurt to keep them on his good side. Who knows? They might come in handy someday when he couldn’t act directly himself.

"Wanna learn?"

"I’ll teach you," Lin Yu asked with a grin.

"Huh?"

"Me?"

The redhead pointed at himself, scratching his head sheepishly.

"Can I even learn that?"

Bullshit!

Of course you fucking can’t!

Lin Yu cursed inwardly.

What are you dreaming about?

Every move he had was honed since childhood, practiced tens of thousands of times over years of relentless effort.

That was why, even after transmigrating into this blond-haired body—only slightly stronger than an average person—he could still pull off those techniques.

Guys like you spend all day drinking, whoring, and gambling.

And you think you can learn this?

Keep dreaming!

Despite the internal rant, Lin Yu kept his smile plastered on.

"What’s there not to learn?"

"I’ll teach you, and soon you’ll all be taking on ten guys at once!"

"That’s amazing!"

"Thanks, Brother Long!"

"Thank you, Brother Long!"

Watching their excitement, Lin Yu’s right eye—peeking out from under his blond hair—crinkled with amusement.

...

"Brother Long, you’re insane!"

"That ‘Soaring Dragon’ move was just like in the movies—you flew so damn high!"

A pink-haired Black Blood Gang member gushed.

"Yeah, yeah!"

"Even cooler than those martial arts masters in films!"

Another gangster in a blue denim jacket chimed in.

Lin Yu waved a hand with exaggerated modesty.

"Ah, it was nothing."

"Just keep practicing the way I showed you, and one day you’ll be just as strong as me!"

"Really, Brother Long?"

"We can actually get that strong?"

The pink-haired gangster’s eyes sparkled with hope.

Of course not, you idiot!

Lin Yu rolled his eyes internally.

Earlier at the gym, Lin Yu had put on a dazzling show, executing flashy moves with effortless grace, leaving the awestruck gangsters slack-jawed. He even explained the techniques in detail—how to perform them, what to watch out for.

But Lin Yu was certain they’d never master them.

Martial arts, at its core, wasn’t much different from academics.

You start by learning the alphabet, then spelling, then basic math—only then can you tackle advanced subjects.

Similarly, martial arts requires foundational training: horse stance, basic strikes, conditioning the body for strength and agility before moving on to forms and techniques.

What Lin Yu had taught them was like handing last year’s college entrance exam to a bunch of grade-schoolers, making them memorize the answers, then declaring:

"Alright, now you’re ready for the big leagues!"

"Tsinghua and Peking University are waiting for you!"

Total nonsense.

Lin Yu wouldn’t have minded training them properly, but these guys didn’t strike him as the type to endure hours of horse stance drills or repetitive punching practice.

Better to give them something fun now and keep everyone happy than to force them through grueling training only to breed resentment.

"Of course!"

"These moves? I don’t teach them to just anyone!"

"Keep at it, and you’ll be as strong as me in no time."

Since he planned to cut ties with them after getting into college anyway, Lin Yu went all out with the hype.

His words sent the gangsters into a frenzy, some already daydreaming about becoming unstoppable martial arts masters.

By noon, back at the bar, the Black Blood Gang members decided to treat Lin Yu to a fancy meal as thanks.

Once they settled on a place, Lin Yu pushed himself up from the glossy wooden table, laughing along with their banter as he turned toward the door.

Mid-rise, his grin froze.

A bizarre sense of déjà vu surged through him—an inexplicable dread that chilled his entire body, sending cold sweat down his back and blanking his mind for a split second.

This overwhelming familiarity wasn’t tied to any single detail—not the setting, the decor, or any familiar face.

It was everything.

Right at this very second, every element fell into place like a perfect jigsaw puzzle, down to the last strand of hair.

The middle-aged drinker in a blue shirt by the door, chugging beer from a massive stein while glued to his phone.

The young couple by the window, bathed in sunlight, smiling wordlessly at each other.

The drunkard in the corner, head pillowed on his arm, snoring peacefully.

Every last detail matched a fragment of Lin Yu’s memory.

Perfectly.

Eerily so.

Two endless seconds later, the blue-shirted man set down his stein, grinning as he typed a reply on his phone.

The couple reached across the table, fingers intertwining.

The drunkard shifted, adjusting his numb arm for a more comfortable position.

In the blink of an eye, everything changed again.

The uncanny familiarity vanished.

Half-standing, Lin Yu’s legs gave out, dropping him back into his chair. As the scene before him lost its surreal edge, a wary alertness rose in his chest.

He knew—barring any surprises—what came next.

The plot.

The plot from that adult comic.

Sure enough, less than thirty seconds later, a woman stormed in, her face dark with anger.

One glance, and Lin Yu recognized her.

Not because of his sharp memory or any deep impression of her...

...Okay, fine, it was deep.

And not just when she wasn’t wearing clothes!

What really tipped him off was the earlier comic-book déjà vu and her voluptuous figure.

That kind of body?

Impossible to miss.