Chapter 1: Dead Again, and Again, and Again?

Chapter 1: Killed Again? And Again? And Again?

"Help!"

Li Zhiming snapped awake, feeling something cold against his neck. He touched it—all good, no blood, no knife, no sharp pain.

His heart was pounding, and sweat was beading on his forehead.

He looked down at his attire: a luxurious robe, tall boots, long hair, and a traditional-style hair crown on his head. He was in a room straight out of ancient times.

Was it all a dream?

Li Zhiming gasped for air, his heart pounding even harder.

He'd definitely been killed by a woman.

Twice, at that.

Why did the dream feel so real, even the pain of death, and why did it happen twice? Was he really that messed up, actually enjoying being killed by a hot woman?

Hell no.

A creak.

The door creaked open, and a graceful, alluring figure stepped in, half-shy, half-seductive, hiding her face behind her sleeve: "My lord has been waiting long. This maiden is here to serve you tonight."

Her voice was sweet and flirty, enough to make anyone's bones melt.

But to Li Zhiming, it was like a bucket of ice water dumped over his head.

It was her. It was definitely her.

The woman who'd killed him twice in his dreams—same face, same voice.

"My lord, the night is long, and this maiden will take good care of you~"

She closed the door gently and slowly walked toward him.

"No, no, no."

Li Zhiming's eyes widened, his face going pale. A cold, numbing terror made him forget to breathe, and his entire body froze in place.

The woman had already sat down beside him, one hand on his shoulder, idly tracing his bobbing throat as she chuckled softly.

"Is my lord nervous to see me? Have you done something you shouldn't have?"

As she spoke, she leaned in close to his ear, a dangerous aura radiating from her.

Li Zhiming clutched his robe tightly, cold sweat pouring down his forehead, cursing the heavens eight hundred times in his head.

This was a damn sexy ghost!

He was a positive, upstanding young man—hardworking and patriotic. Why the hell was he being haunted by something like this?!

He didn't answer, and her sharp fingertips traced his lips.

Meanwhile, her other hand crept up his rigid back.

Li Zhiming's skin crawled.

Run. Get out of here.

He shoved her away abruptly, but the moment he stood up, a blade pierced straight through his heart.

What the hell.

Li Zhiming barely managed to curse before collapsing like a dead fish. In his last moments, he thought he saw a dark shadow kick the door open and charge in.

...

He woke up a fourth time.

The first thing he did was touch his chest—no blood, no stab wound. But it hurt.

It hurt like a bitch.

If not for that damn pain and the all-too-real memories, he'd have thought he was losing his mind or stuck in some ghostly loop.

But he was a materialist. He didn't believe in ghosts or gods.

There had to be some clue.

Li Zhiming sat on the bed, scratching his head, trying to force himself to calm down.

He'd definitely been killed three times.

The first two were identical: the woman deliberately seduced him. He thought it was a dream, and a beauty throwing herself at him in a dream—of course, why would he refuse?

Just as he was about to steal a kiss and lose his first kiss, the soft, delicate woman turned into a vicious killer and slit his throat with a single stroke.

He still remembered desperately clutching the gushing wound on his neck, feeling a sticky, warm liquid on his hands—hot.

The woman's radiant face was splattered with blood, and she watched coldly as he breathed his last.

The third time was different, though.

He didn't take the bait, tried to run, and she stabbed him through the heart from behind.

It hurt that much, so it couldn't have been a dream.

If it wasn't a dream, then...

Damn it, did he transmigrate or something? Clearly, he'd landed in a terrifying world—one where people killed without a second thought!

This damn heaven.

Having reached that conclusion, Li Zhiming jumped three feet in the air and kicked a table in frustration.

The door creaked.

The door was pushed open, and a graceful, alluring figure stepped in, half-shy, half-seductive, hiding her face behind her sleeve: "My lord has been waiting long. This maiden is here to serve you tonight."

Seeing the fury still on Li Zhiming's face, the woman let out a soft giggle.

"Has my lord been waiting long? Don't be angry—this maiden will attend to you now..."

This time, Li Zhiming was a bit more composed, but his body still trembled uncontrollably. He'd never even seen a fight in his past life, and now he was facing a murder scene—it was just too much to handle.

He used his voluminous sleeve to conceal his trembling hand, quickly assessing his situation.

Given his fancy clothes, he had to be someone important. Since the woman was skilled enough to kill him with a single strike, why did she always pretend to seduce him and only strike once the door was shut?

The last time he died, he saw someone kick the door open and rush in.

Barging in like that, they couldn't be her partner—so were they on his side, someone she was afraid of?

"Sir~ Why do you still look so unhappy~ Shall I take you to bed?"

She draped herself around his neck, all boneless, with a lovesick grin.

But this time, Li Zhiming saw clearly—her smile didn't reach her eyes, and he could see the knife edge peeking out.

He forced down his fear, peeled her hands away, and spoke for the first time: "Alright, but my bed's a bit messy. Could you straighten it up for me first?"

Murder flashed plainly in her eyes as she stepped closer.

His legs went weak, and he instinctively shuffled back toward the door.

The air went dead quiet for a beat, then she nodded with fake grace: "Then I'll tidy it for you, sir. The night is short, so don't squander it."

With that, she turned and started fixing the bed.

Li Zhiming was so nervous he could hardly breathe. As she bent down to grab the inner blanket, he quietly glanced at the door behind him, took a deep breath, and bolted.

"Help! Someone help!"

Li Zhiming sprinted and yelled, feeling a breeze whip past his ear.

Moments later, the sound of fierce fighting erupted from the room—the clash of steel and flickering shadows made the night feel colder.

About ten minutes later, the woman made a run for it.

Li Zhiming hid behind a rock garden and didn't dare come out even after she was gone. He had no clue who the other guy was.

"Sir."

A stern face suddenly appeared before him, sword in hand, startling Li Zhiming so much he jumped out of his skin.

Before he could yell for help, the guy dropped to his knees with a thud: "I failed you, sir, and let you walk into danger. I deserve to die—punish me as you see fit!"

He was in a dark red robe, one hand on his sword, the other on the ground, head hung low.

Li Zhiming studied him silently—so this guy really was his underling.

"Get up. You drove off the thief—how is that a crime?"

Trying to act like he'd seen in TV shows, Li Zhiming put on a serious face and helped him up.

"Sir, it's late and the dew is thick. Please head back inside."

It was kinda cold.

"Important notes for readers:"

1. Li Zhiming is a modern soul stuck in this body, with no cheat powers and no system.

2. Warning! Sang Yu is a yandere psychopath—unpredictable, ruthless, devoid of humanity, cold-blooded, and lacking empathy. Don't expect him to be tolerant, kind, or magnanimous—he isn't. He'll only grow more unhinged. If you can't handle his madness, feel free to leave.

3. This story involves a time-loop element: when the protagonist dies, time rewinds slightly, and each loop varies in length. This mechanic will be explained later in the story, so don't dwell on why death triggers a restart early on.

4. Wishing you success in exams, wealth, weight loss, happiness, health, and longevity!

5. Feel free to offer suggestions kindly. If you truly don't enjoy it, just quietly exit—no insults or arguments, please. Thank you, dear readers.