After Transmigrating into a Novel with My Boyfriend, He Turned Out to Be a Native Villain

Night fell.

The outskirts were especially quiet at night. Outside the window, only a few bird calls and the rustling of leaves could be heard. The dim wall lamp cast a warm and tranquil glow in the room.

Jodie lay on the bed, staring blankly at the ceiling, her unfocused eyes wide open.

She couldn’t sleep. She really couldn’t sleep.

The moment she closed her eyes, that eerie yellow paper would appear in her mind. Then, she would recall the scene outside the window during the day, and an unexplainable sense of panic would surge over her like a tidal wave. The suffocating feeling of drowning nearly made her unable to breathe.

She took a deep breath, turned to her side, and stared at the jar on the table for a long time. Finally, she couldn’t resist anymore. She sat up, walked over to the table, and picked it up.

She looked around but found nothing unusual about the jar’s exterior.

Should I open it and take a look inside?

Jodie hesitated. But in the end, her fear couldn’t overcome her curiosity. She slowly opened the jar and, under the dim light, carefully peeked inside.

Inside the palm-sized jar were a few strands of black hair.

Black hair? Whose?

And who would put hair in a jar?

Jodie didn’t dare think further. She quickly shut the lid. At first, she intended to place it back on the table, but after some thought—perhaps due to some inexplicable instinct—she chose to put it in the drawer instead.

Just as she was about to go back to bed, she heard a noise from Joeci’s room next door.

Jodie’s footsteps paused. Remembering Joeci’s strange behavior today, she hesitated for a moment before slowly opening her door.

The hallway of the villa was dimly lit by faint candlelight. Jodie walked lightly towards Joeci’s door, placed her hand on the doorknob, and gently twisted it—only to find that the door was locked.

Left with no choice, she whispered, “Joeci? Are you asleep?”

The room remained silent for a long moment before Joeci’s calm voice finally came through, “What’s wrong? I’m going to sleep. If it’s something important, let’s talk tomorrow.”

“It’s nothing. I just wanted to check in.”

Hearing this, Jodie decided not to disturb her further. She returned to her own door but still couldn’t help glancing back.

Was it just her imagination?

Why did Joeci’s voice sound... a little excited?

She shook her head, forcing herself to stop overthinking, then went back into her room.

—

In the room next door, Joeci was kneeling on the floor. She had her head bowed, back arched, and hands resting on her thighs. Her posture was humble.

In the unseen darkness, a pair of completely black eyes burned with fervent obsession. She suppressed the excitement in her throat and spoke in a low, respectful voice to the man sitting on the chair.

“Young Master, you’re finally awake.”

She had been trying to help the Young Master break the talisman spell. But unexpectedly, someone else had already destroyed the ritual before she could.

Her gaze shifted.

A shadow sat on the chair, gradually solidifying into a tall, masculine figure. Wisps of black mist rose from his body, blending seamlessly with the darkness of the night, making him indistinguishable. Only his waist-length black hair cascaded down his sides like silk, its ends disappearing into his dark robe and spreading across the floor like creeping vines.

The man’s gaze swept over the girl kneeling on the floor. There was no discernible emotion in his eyes. Slowly, he reached out and gripped her throat with his long fingers, tightening his hold bit by bit.

“You know me?”

His voice was deep and hoarse, devoid of any emotion, but his tone carried an ominous chill.

Even though the male ghost had possessed the girl’s body, the physical pain was real.

As the suffocation intensified and all the blood in her body surged to her head, the girl’s originally delicate face began to distort. It shifted and morphed until it transformed into the face of a pale middle-aged man.

Yet, despite being strangled, the ghost showed no signs of pain. Instead, his expression remained one of absolute devotion, as if this was an honor.

With a look of crazed obsession, he spoke softly, “Yes, Young Master, I am your most loyal servant, Da Dong.”

However, after hearing his words, the man’s gaze remained cold and indifferent. He showed no reaction, nor did he loosen his grip.

Seeing this, Da Dong’s eyes flickered with a hint of disappointment, but he still spoke respectfully.

“Young Master, you are Ye Jingyu, the eldest son of the Ye family. You may have amnesia now, but that’s alright. Eat me, please. I beg you to eat me.”

As he spoke, a strange grin spread across his lips.

“As long as you consume me, you will regain all your strength and remember everything.”

And you will remember that damned foreign woman.

Ye Jingyu remained silent, his gaze lowering indifferently as his grip tightened further.

As the pulse beneath his fingers weakened, a trace of pleasure flickered in his dark eyes.

The middle-aged male ghost’s eyes rolled back. Blood seeped from his eyes, nose, mouth, and ears.

—His body was embracing death.

The fresh scent of a living soul stirred Ye Jingyu. His lips moved slightly, and at last, he spoke.

“Sacrifice this body’s soul to me.”

He wasn’t referring to the ghost’s soul. He was referring to Joeci’s.

Hearing this, a flicker of resentment and jealousy crossed the male ghost’s eyes.

He was jealous—jealous that Joeci was being offered to the Young Master.

“Yes, Young Master.”

As soon as the words fell, a wisp of white mist drifted out from the woman’s body, swirling in the air before being instantly devoured by the black mist surrounding Ye Jingyu.

After absorbing the energy, the previously indistinct features of the man’s face became clear. He threw the body aside, lowered his gaze to his own hand, and examined it under the dim light. His pale, slender fingers cast a shadow.

Then, he looked toward the mirror beside him.

In the reflection, the man’s features were as refined as an ink painting. His brows carried a natural air of nobility and grace, but his pitch-black eyes—different from any living person’s—exuded a chilling aura under the faint light.

The corners of his lips curled up instinctively. His crimson lips, as if stained with fresh blood, contrasted against his ink-dark hair that casually fell along his face, making him appear even more wickedly alluring.

This was Ye Jingyu, the eldest son of the Ye family, who had died abroad years ago.

And at the same time—he was the player, Bo Jingmo.

The ghost, now fully possessing the corpse, quickly crawled over and looked up at the man on the chair with burning devotion.

“Young Master, do you remember me now?”

Bo Jingmo didn’t answer. Instead, he leaned down, grabbed the ghost by the hair, and said indifferently, “I still have use for you.”

A soul-deep pain radiated from his scalp, but Da Dong acted as if he felt nothing. He respectfully lowered his head.

“Please give your command.”

Bo Jingmo looked out the window. But outside, there was nothing but endless darkness—the villa from earlier in the day was nowhere in sight. His deep eyes were unreadable.

After a long silence, his voice finally rang from above.

“Go to that villa. Get close to the blonde woman.”

Da Dong’s entire body trembled, his pupils contracting.

A blonde woman?

There was only one blonde woman around here…

It was her?!

That damned foreign woman?!

Thinking about what that woman had done, Da Dong’s emotions surged uncontrollably. Blood-red veins appeared on his face, making him look terrifyingly grotesque. Gritting his teeth, he spoke through clenched jaws, “Young Master! There’s no need to go through so much trouble! If you want that woman dead, I can kill her right now—”

Before he could even finish the word "her," the man kicked him to the ground.

In an instant, black mist surged forward, tightly wrapping around his neck, its grip gradually tightening. His soul, along with the body he possessed, was completely restrained, while the black mist gnawed at his very essence, each bite bringing excruciating agony.

Da Dong's mouth gaped open helplessly, his pupils contracting. The feeling of impending death made the blood-red veins on his face shrink back.

Unlike the previous direct strangulation, this was a far more torturous experience—one that pushed him to the brink of death.

Even ghosts feared this kind of torment.

Da Dong could clearly sense the man’s fury, but he didn’t understand what he had said wrong. Struggling, he forced out a hoarse question, “Young Master… what did I say wrong?”

Bo Jingmo slowly lowered his head, his gaze filled with unmistakable killing intent. His voice was dark and unreadable.

“I only told you to get close. Don’t do anything unnecessary.”

If it weren’t for the fact that his body still couldn’t stray too far from the villa, he wouldn’t even need to send such a useless pawn.

Da Dong didn’t understand. He thought his Young Master simply hadn’t remembered everything yet.

Enduring the pain, he spoke again, “Young Master, have you forgotten?”

“That damned foreign woman was the one who killed you! She was the one who trapped you in this villa! I want to kill her to avenge you!”

As soon as his words fell, a thunderclap boomed outside the window, as if heralding an ominous warning.

At the same time, Bo Jingmo flung Da Dong to the ground, the heavy impact echoing through the room.

But Da Dong had no time to care about his own disgrace. Instead, he looked up at his noble master with hopeful eyes, seeking his approval.

Yet, the man he worshiped merely looked down at him with a gaze of condescending indifference, a hint of displeasure flickering in his expression.

The lightning’s stark white light illuminated the man’s cold face. His thin lips parted, and he spoke in a voice as frigid as ice.

“If you talk too much again, I’ll kill you first.”