I'm Sorry, Classmate

Liu Muye had never imagined that one day he would transmigrate into the novel he wrote.

The plot of The CEO’s Beloved Sweetheart, his failed urban romance novel, was actually quite simple. To summarize in one sentence:

The sweet daily life of a domineering CEO and a wealthy heiress.

Or, to put it even more bluntly:

A cliché, over-the-top Mary Sue love story.

Mary Sue tropes were outdated by decades—no wonder his book flopped. He deserved it for writing something so cheesy.

Just like the tacky title, the male lead’s name was equally uninspired: Nangong Ye.

The female lead’s name was Shangguan Yurou.

And no, don’t ask why both protagonists had double surnames—it was purely for the sake of sounding pretentious.

These days, readers would tear into a book if the main characters had even slightly ugly names—something Liu Muye knew all too well.

Since this was a Mary Sue romance, of course there had to be a villainess to drive the plot forward. Her name was Han Juyou.

Yes, the same Han Juyou who jumped off a building in the novel’s finale.

As a pure plot device, her role was singular: to create drama.

When the male lead fell ill, she showed up before the female lead could, taking care of him and sparking misunderstandings.

When the male lead lost something, she framed the female lead, making him resent her.

When the male lead was about to propose, she arranged for the female lead to get hit by a car and lose her memory.

In short:

Whenever the plot stalled, she was there to force it forward—though with Liu Muye’s illogical and cringe-worthy writing, it was no surprise his career as an author was doomed.

“Achoo—!”

On his way to Sylia Business School, Liu Muye sneezed out of nowhere. Rubbing his nose, he muttered, “Who’s talking crap about me behind my back?”

He pulled out his ID from his wallet and examined it. It looked almost identical to his real-world ID—same face, same ID number, same birthday (still September 17).

The only difference was the address.

His current residence was listed as:

Mansion No. 1, Changong Estate, Inner Ring District, Shangjing City.

Staring at the address, Liu Muye felt a surge of smug satisfaction.

Wasn’t writing novels all about making money? If he couldn’t be rich in real life, he might as well live the high life in his own book!

Besides the wallet, there was also a phone—given to him earlier by Luo Ji—placed neatly beside it. The phone functioned just like a real-world smartphone, except all his contacts were replaced with characters from the novel. And then there was the account balance…

One, ten, hundred, thousand—bro, dad, grandpa, holy ancestors!

“Hell yeah! This is too damn good! I’d rather die in my own novel than go back!”

Liu Muye blurted out something utterly shameless as he gaped at the absurdly long string of digits on his screen. Then he pushed open the car door and stepped out.

The driver called out, “That’ll be thirty.”

Liu Muye immediately snapped, “What the hell? A few kilometers for thirty bucks? Even Sunan Province’s taxis aren’t this scammy!”

The driver muttered under his breath, “Cheapskate. If you’re broke, why take a cab?”

“Who said I’m broke?!”

Still adjusting to his newfound wealth, Liu Muye was jolted back to reality by the driver’s remark. He opened his wallet, pulled out two crisp hundred-yuan bills, and tossed them onto the passenger seat.

“Keep the change,” he said coolly.

The driver’s attitude did a complete 180. “Oh! Oh! Thank you, boss! You’re the most generous man I’ve ever met—and the handsomest!”

Liu Muye raised an eyebrow. “That’s not what you said a second ago.”

“I—I was blind! Look at this stupid mouth of mine!” The driver slapped himself twice, grinning obsequiously. “Please don’t be mad, boss.”

“Why would I waste my anger on you?”

“Yes, yes! You’re magnanimous, boss! Don’t lower yourself to my level…”

A smirk tugged at Liu Muye’s lips as he turned away, basking in the driver’s groveling, and strode toward Sylia Business School.

Siliya Royal Business School—Liu Muye hadn’t written much about this institution in his novel, but to emphasize the male lead’s elite status, he had established it as a world-class business academy.

Now, standing before the school gates, Liu Muye was stunned. The entrance was as grand as the Arc de Triomphe, with towering, intricately carved pillars and ornate engravings.

Is this really the school I wrote about?

It’s even more luxurious than I imagined!

As he marveled, a sudden realization hit him. His eyes lit up, and he muttered under his breath, “If I’m the school chairman’s son… then this fancy-ass school is basically mine, right?”

The thought made him even bolder. Swaggering like a character from a Stephen Chow movie, he strutted through the gates.

The security guard at the entrance saluted him. “Good morning, Young Master!”

“Mhm.”

Liu Muye gave a nonchalant hum, chin tilted up, and kept walking—until he tripped over something.

“Who the hell left this here?!”

Faceplanted on the ground, Liu Muye was about to unleash his fury when a soft, apologetic voice reached his ears.

“I’m so sorry! My luggage got in your way. Are you okay? Do you need me to take you to the infirmary?”

A girl helped him up. Just as he was about to brush it off, he caught sight of the heart-shaped beauty mark beneath her left eye.

His pupils shrank.

“Han Juyou?!”

The girl turned to him, puzzled. “Huh? You know me?”