After Transmigrating into a Novel with My Boyfriend, He Turned Out to Be a Native Villain-Chapter 3: This Is the Novel’s Plot?

—

“That’ll be ten yuan, dear.”

The cafeteria auntie cheerfully handed a tray of food to the girl in front of her. The girl took one glance at it before flashing a sweet smile.

“Thank you, Auntie! Could I get a little more vegetables?”

“Of course!”

The cafeteria auntie grinned, scooping an extra portion onto her plate. She wasn’t well-versed in fancy words, but she knew one thing—the girl in front of her was truly beautiful. That warm, bright smile could melt anyone’s heart, and even her voice sounded pleasant.

Since lunchtime was almost over, the auntie generously added one more thing. “Here, have a meatball too! Eat up and stay full!”

With a soft beep from the QR code scanner, Yu Li put her phone away and, under the cafeteria auntie’s affectionate gaze, walked toward a quiet corner to sit down.

“Sister , are you really not going to look for Bo Jingmo?”

As she sat, the smile on her face faded slightly. She picked up a napkin and carefully wiped the oil off her chopsticks before glancing at the system.

“You already said Bo Jingmo lost his memories. What’s the point of looking for him?” She raised an eyebrow. “Besides, weren’t you the one who advised me against going?”

Without any detailed information—only a name—wandering around this massive campus searching for him would be pointless. It made more sense to eat first.

The system mumbled, “That was just based on genre logic…”

Yu Li patted the little light ball. “Alright, quiet down. Food comes first. We’ll talk about Bo Jingmo later.”

She took a bite of her meal. Just then, her phone buzzed with a transaction notification.

Her chewing paused.

She slowly looked up at the glowing sphere. “Are you sure all my data is the same as before?”

The light ball puffed up its nonexistent chest proudly. “Of course! Look at your face! It’s exactly the same! I even made sure your WeChat avatar and nickname match your old one perfectly!”

“Then why isn’t my money the same?”

That part still bothered her.

“Because even a system can’t just alter monetary circulation at will,” the system explained innocently. “Money has to be obtained legally and reasonably. Sister , why don’t you try buying a lottery ticket? I can cheer you on!”

“…Thanks, but no thanks.”

She could barely afford a lottery ticket right now.

Staring at her three-digit balance, Yu Li fell silent. She opened WeChat and checked her profile.

It was the same as before—an orphan, with her pinned contact being the name of an orphanage director.

At least the system had been thoughtful in that regard. If this body had parents, that would have been an even bigger hassle.

Putting her phone away, she ate a few more bites. At this point, finding Bo Jingmo seemed far less urgent than simply figuring out how to survive.

Her eyes flickered with thought as she recalled the system’s description of Bo Jingmo.

A psychotic villain obsessed with the female lead…

Meanwhile, the system was busy reloading its limited data when it suddenly heard Yu Li chuckle coldly.

It shuddered.

Yu Li set her chopsticks down and reached out to stroke the glowing ball beside her. Smiling sweetly, she cooed,

“小乖宝 (Little Darling), are you sure you don’t have any plot details? Even if you don’t have the full story, maybe you’ve got something else I can look at?”

The system was instantly dazed by her soft, honeyed voice.

It wasn’t even trying to be helpful anymore—she had just called it Little Darling!

“Hold on, Sister ! I’ll check!”

To Yu Li’s surprise, the little light ball suddenly stretched from its usual spherical shape into a vertical strip, as if someone was pulling it from both ends.

The next second, a glowing screen unfolded in midair.

The system exposed all its internal data to her. “Wuwuwu, see? There’s really nothing! Everything’s corrupted!”

Its sniffles echoed in Yu Li’s ears.

She didn’t respond. Instead, her fingers lightly traced the edge of the glowing screen.

“Shhh, be good. Quiet down.”

The system immediately shut up.

Finally, silence.

Yu Li lowered her gaze, scanning the fragmented text on the screen.

The system hadn’t lied. There really wasn’t much usable information.

The text was scattered, as if someone had deliberately erased large portions. Only a few broken sentences remained.

And the only complete paragraph was this one:

"Bo Jingmo, to me, is a figure both loved and hated. His love for Jiang Xi is conflicted yet obsessive, his feelings concealed yet disturbingly twisted. There’s a destructive possessiveness in him—if he can’t have her, then no one can. Some say he’s nothing more than a dark, psychotic villain obsessively fixated on the female lead. I completely agree."

Yu Li immediately understood why the system had tried to stop her from seeking him out.

Even reading this tiny snippet, she could feel the sheer intensity of Bo Jingmo’s fixation on this Jiang Xi woman.

And honestly?

The description did sound pretty accurate.

But more importantly…

Is this supposed to be an actual novel plot?

Her fingers tapped lightly against the table—a subconscious habit when she was deep in thought.

Yu Li wasn’t a frequent reader, but even she could tell that the writing didn’t seem like typical in-story narration.

It read more like… a review.

Looking at the way it was worded, she even wondered—could Bo Jingmo actually be an actor?

He was a director in his past life. Maybe he decided to become an actor this time?

With that thought, she pulled out her phone, intending to search for his name.

—

At that moment, a group of tall male students exited the cafeteria.

One of them, clutching a basketball, groaned in frustration. “Where the hell is Bo-ge today? Haven’t seen him all day. I was planning to borrow his experiment data.”

A bespectacled student looked up from his phone. “Borrow? You mean copy?”

“Hey, hey! Ye Boli, don’t make it sound so bad! Bo-ge’s data is flawless! If I alter anything, it’d be ruining its perfection.”

Chen Chao spoke righteously, then turned to the guy next to him. “Right, Qiangzi?”

Jun Qiang frowned at the nickname. “Stop calling me that. It’s a stupid name.”

He tucked a book under his arm. “I’m heading to the library. You guys go on.”

Chen Chao muttered an “oh” before glancing at Ye Boli. “Is he mad?”

“No idea. Just don’t call him that again.” Ye Boli adjusted his glasses and handed his phone to Chen Chao. “Found Bo-ge.”

“Where? Where?”

Chen Chao leaned over to look at Ye Boli’s phone.

On the screen was a photo—

A man and a woman walking together.

The man was tall, his figure sharp and elegant, though only his back was visible.

But even so, Chen Chao instantly recognized him.

It was Bo Jingmo.

And beside him?

There was no mistaking her—the campus beauty, Jiang Xi.

Chen Chao sucked in a sharp breath. “Bo-ge’s with Jiang Xi again? So the rumors are true? He really likes her?”

Ye Boli remained neutral, withdrawing his phone. “If you’re so curious, why don’t you ask him yourself?”

Chen Chao immediately shut his mouth.

Bo Jingmo’s cold, unapproachable nature meant that prying into his personal affairs would get them absolutely nowhere.

But he was still confused.

“Where did you get that photo?”

Ye Boli showed him the webpage.

“The school’s forum.”

“…The what?”

How come he didn’t know about this?

—

Ye Boli glanced at him strangely. “You guys seriously didn’t know? It’s on the mini-program. There are even people shipping Bo-ge and Jiang Xi.”

Chen Chao immediately pulled out his phone, muttering, “Nobody told me. The advisor never mentioned it. All I have is the confession wall.”

No wonder Ye Boli always got the latest gossip so fast.

Suddenly, something occurred to him. He turned to Ye Boli and asked, “So Bo-ge went to the experiment building again? He’s been going there a lot lately. The professor didn’t assign that many tasks, did he?”

“No idea. Either way, let’s head back to the dorm.” Ye Boli patted his shoulder. “We’ve still got cleaning duty. The inspection is coming up, and your side of the room is a mess.”

—

Meanwhile, on a tree-lined path leading to the experiment building, a young woman quickened her steps to keep up with the tall man ahead.

Looking at the man’s indifferent expression, she sighed in exasperation.

“Bo Jingmo, can’t you at least act when you’re supposed to? Even if you don’t actually like her, this time you were finally given a human role. But the audience isn’t satisfied with you, and your rating keeps dropping!”

“If you don’t believe me, see for yourself.”

As she spoke, a translucent screen appeared in front of them.

It was similar to Yu Li’s system, but simpler—just a basic projection.

This content is taken from fгee𝑤ebɳoveɭ.cøm.

Bo Jingmo halted, his gaze skimming across the comments on the screen.

【Damn, Bo Jingmo’s ghost role was terrifying. He’s definitely made for this. But he almost actually killed Jiang Xi! Ugh, I’m so pissed! Isn’t his character supposed to be a devoted husband?!】

【Agreed. He’s great at playing a murderer, but why does he never follow the script? I’m getting so frustrated. Does he not remember that she’s his wife?!】

【C’mon, you guys saw that Jiang Xi survived, right? That proves that love still triumphed over his nature!】

【Hah, sure, his terror score was maxed out. But his total indifference and kill-hungry attitude ruined it for me. The plot barely even progressed before he threw it all away.】

【You really think he overcame his “nature”? More like he held back at the last second to avoid getting an abysmal rating.】

【Yeah, no wonder the system keeps assigning him ghost roles. This time, he finally got a human character—a husband, no less! He could’ve easily won over the audience, but what did he do? Ditched his wife, sacrificed himself, and became the ghost instead. I was this close to shipping them, but then he turned around and tried to kill her. I don’t care how good-looking he is, I cannot support this!】

Bo Jingmo’s expression remained unreadable despite the barrage of negative comments.

Turning to Jiang Xi, he said in a calm, detached voice, “Apologies. I lost control again after becoming a ghost. I may have hurt you.”

Seeing how polite he was, Jiang Xi quickly waved her hands. “No, no, it’s fine! Actually, my rating went up because of it. But your rating…”

She looked at his dangerously low score, brows furrowing in concern. “Are you sure you’ll be okay?”

Bo Jingmo lowered his gaze, closed the floating screen, and said flatly, “It’s fine. I’m leaving.”

“Wait—”

Jiang Xi hesitated as she watched his retreating figure, then let out a sigh.

She didn’t understand why the system insisted on making Bo Jingmo a ghost in every scenario.

Whenever he became one, he completely lost his awareness, turning into little more than an NPC. His ratings never stayed high for long.

This time was supposed to be different—he finally got a human role, and not just any role, but her husband! If they played it right, they could’ve built up a fanbase, boosting his ratings in the process.

But the plot had barely unfolded when he threw everything away—sacrificing himself to become the ghost instead.

As expected, the backlash was immediate.

Jiang Xi shuddered, recalling the way he had slaughtered his way through the set, his eyes gleaming red with excitement after spilling blood.

Whenever Bo Jingmo became a ghost, it was like he was a completely different person.

Every strike was brutal, every attack deadly. The twisted smile on his lips was enough to send chills down anyone’s spine.

Thank god, she reassured herself, that’s just the ghost taking over.

He couldn’t actually be like that in real life.

After all, in everyone’s eyes, Bo Jingmo was known for his cold yet refined demeanor.

Polite and courteous, he was the aloof genius of the campus, the model student praised by professors.

A person like that had to be losing control because of the system’s influence.

That had to be it.

—

The experiment building was mostly empty on Saturdays.

That suited Bo Jingmo just fine.

He set down his books but didn’t head to the mechatronics lab.

Instead, he made his way to the medical school’s dissection room.

His expression remained indifferent as he donned a white lab coat. Taking out a key that only professors should have, he unlocked a room labeled for “experimental bodies.”

Inside, several cadavers lay untouched, awaiting disposal.

Bo Jingmo wasn’t a medical student.

But as the student council president and a top-performing scholar, he had earned the trust of several professors, who often asked for his help with various tasks.

Slipping on a pair of pristine white gloves, he moved with practiced ease. Even the simplest actions exuded elegance.

Then, he reached into a nearby cabinet and retrieved a surgical scalpel.

He stepped toward one of the metal tables, towering over the lifeless form beneath him.

Pausing for a moment, his eyes flickered with a barely contained thrill.

Dark pupils, tinted with the faintest hint of red, narrowed in pleasure.

A slow, quiet chuckle escaped his lips.

Schlick.

The sound of the blade piercing flesh.

Warm, crimson blood dripped from his fingertips, forming glistening trails across his gloved hands.

The sight of it finally dispelled the nagging irritation that had been plaguing him all day.

His eyes followed the stream of red, his lips curling in amusement.

It seemed that even the game’s horrors were no longer enough to satisfy him.

Bo Jingmo had always known there was something wrong with him.

Since childhood, nothing in the world had ever interested him. Everything felt dull, tedious—a constant source of frustration.

Nothing except blood.

Except corpses.

Only those things could stir something inside him, bring him even a sliver of enjoyment.

But he knew this wasn’t normal.

So he deliberately avoided any related professions, forcing himself to suppress the urges.

He learned to mask his true nature, blending seamlessly into society.

As long as he never indulged, he could keep it under control.

But once the line was crossed…

Desires, once awakened, were impossible to restrain.

And the thing that had shattered his carefully constructed normalcy—

He tore off the gloves and pulled up his system interface.

His name was listed near the very bottom of the rankings.

His expression remained blank.

Yet, as he thought about the eerie, nightmarish world of the game, a flicker of anticipation gleamed in his crimson-tinted eyes.

Tongue pressing against the inside of his cheek, he smirked.

This game… is getting interesting.