Gu Nanxi

The Xie Family all studied law, possessing the fine qualities expected of a scholarly family. Xie Shang too had them: elegance, deep learning, a Fragrance Connoisseur versed in classics, also skilled in zither, chess, calligraphy, and painting.
But he was mad, capable of reciting the scriptures while holding a Buddha statue, as well as breaking people's hand and foot bones, very gentle, yet very cruel.
Xie Shang didn't become a lawyer but opened a pawnshop instead, where you could pawn anything as long as the story was compelling.
One day, someone came to the pawnshop and told a story:
In Fragrant City, there was a family with the surname Wen, where daughters took their mother's surname. The daughters of that family could cast spells, the kind that bewitched men, leaving their lovers either buried with them or taking vows of celibacy; in short, either dead or destined for a lonely life.
Xie Shang's uncle had died in Fragrant City, which is why he accepted this particular pawning business.
Bewitched, confused, thrilled, deeply in love, but love unattained, and a pain so intense it made life unbearable. — This was the script Xie Shang had prepared for the deaf boy Wen Changling.
In the end, it was Xie Shang who ended up with this romance-addled script.
Wen Changling: Are you surprised, Mr. Xie Shang?
(This isn't a book transmigration story, it's a contemporary sweet romance. The 'script' in the book title implies deliberate plotting.)

He is Lovestruck in the Revenge

The motorcyclist removed his helmet, grabbed a handful of hair, and with a stern but handsome face, proceeded to knock on the car window.


He continued knocking, the sound growing louder and louder, almost as if he was trying to dismantle the car.


Fang Jiyin, enduring the pain, rolled down the window. Blood from his forehead trickled into his eyes, blurring his vision as a particularly youthful face invaded his sight. The man stood there, holding a red helmet, looking down in a calm and unhurried manner.


Yan Cong offered an apology, "Sorry, I'm not good at driving."


His head didn't dip in the slightest, his tone of apology utterly insincere.


Fang Jiyin was in pain all over and had no energy to argue with him. He watched as Yan Cong casually leaned against the hood, calling the police, fiddling with the visor on his helmet while his other hand was idle.


032: Changling annoys Xie Shang