Hirah367

Xia Yang has spent lifetimes hopping through worlds—king, assassin,CEO, doctor, chef, and more. But when he suddenly wakes up in a new body, his system drops a bombshell: This is your original world. Then, just as quickly, it vanishes, leaving him stranded with no memories and no clue what to do next.

Before he can even figure out his identity, a series of unexpected twists lead to the ultimate disaster—he gets tricked into living with Long Wei, the cold and untouchable king of showbiz. The two clash instantly, their every interaction turning into a battle of wits and sharp words.

But as the days pass and sparks fly, their constant bickering begins to shift into something neither of them expected. Could this be the beginning of a love story Xia Yang never saw coming?

Transmigration's End: The Start of Love(BL)

Chapter 6: The Angry Bird Strikes Again

Xia Yang cleared his throat and gave a lazy wave. "Ahem. Sorry for disturbing you all."

The room remained frozen. The brightly lit space, filled with celebrities, staff members, and camera operators, had fallen into complete silence. Dozens of eyes locked onto him—some wide with shock, others barely holding back their laughter. A few were outright gawking, as if they couldn't believe what they had just witnessed.

Xia Yang, however, couldn't care less.

He had no idea what the hell was going on, but standing around looking stupid wasn't on his agenda. Step one: Get the fuck out.

With that thought in mind, he pushed himself up from the couch—

The instant his foot hit the ground, a sharp, white-hot pain shot up his leg.

The pain was so intense it nearly knocked the air out of him. His knees buckled on instinct, and before he could even process what was happening, his ass landed right back on the couch.

His vision blurred for a moment as he sucked in a sharp breath. His ankle throbbed like it had been smashed with a hammer, the pulsing pain making his entire leg feel numb. He gritted his teeth and bent down, clutching his injured foot, but the more he moved, the worse it felt.

Then, frustration hit him all at once.

"FUCK! SHIT! DAMN IT!" Xia Yang erupted, his voice echoing across the hall. He slammed his fist against the couch's armrest, his temper boiling over like an active volcano.

Some celebrities looked at him as if he were a wild animal that had just been let loose. One of the staff members gasped audibly, while another choked on their drink. The cameramen exchanged panicked glances, unsure whether to keep rolling or cut the feed.

But Xia Yang was too busy spiraling to care.

"IS THIS WORLD OUT TO GET ME?!" he roared, eyes blazing with rage. "First, I wake up in a fucking sex dungeon, then I get kidnapped, THEN I twist my goddamn ankle?! WHAT KIND OF FUCKED-UP BAD LUCK IS THIS?!"

The silence that followed was deafening.

A poorly suppressed snort echoed through the hall.

He caught the tail end of someone quickly looking away, their shoulders trembling suspiciously. But before he could figure out who had dared to laugh at his suffering, another voice spoke up—this one completely calm and amused.

"…You do realize this is a live broadcast, right?"

Xia Yang blinked. His mind stalled.

Slowly, almost painfully, he turned his head toward the source of the voice.

A man stood a short distance away, casually leaning against a table. His dark eyes were fixed on Xia Yang with an unreadable expression, but there was something in his gaze—something sharp, assessing, too focused.

Even if Xia Yang had no memories of this world, one thing was clear—this man was someone important.

And while Xia Yang sat there, still fuming, still in pain, still trying to process the fact that he had just gone on a full-blown tirade on live television—