The dim glow of the apartment cast long shadows as Ye Xuan leaned back against the worn-out couch. The air smelled faintly of instant noodles and cheap cologne—the remnants of his past life still clinging to him.
Across from him, Zhang Hu's translucent figure hovered over the table, his expression one of quiet amusement. Though a ghost, the former businessman carried himself like a man who had never known failure.
"You've made your first step, kid," Zhang Hu said, smirking. "Twelve thousand RMB in a few days? Not bad. But this?" He gestured at the cramped apartment, the flickering lightbulb, and the stack of rejected job applications in the corner. "This isn't the life of someone aiming to rise above."
Ye Xuan exhaled through his nose. "You think I don't know that?" He tapped his fingers against the wooden surface. "But I can't make millions overnight. I need another way."
Zhang Hu grinned. "That's where the host club comes in."
Ye Xuan stiffened. A host club.
The idea itself wasn't impossible—he wasn't unattractive, and with the right attitude, women might actually pay for his company. But still, the thought of entertaining rich women for money felt strange.
Zhang Hu chuckled, reading his hesitation. "You think it's shameful? Look at it this way: You're not selling your body; you're selling an illusion. Women who step into host clubs aren't just looking for a man—they're looking for an escape. Give them that, and they'll pay handsomely."
Ye Xuan's jaw tightened. He had spent years being ignored, dismissed, and treated like a convenient tool. And now he was supposed to sell himself?
But then he remembered:
Su Mengyao's soft chuckle as she leaned against Lin Tianyi.The rejection emails piling up in his inbox.The landlord's voice was cold and dismissive.
Ye Xuan exhaled slowly. If he wanted power, he had to start somewhere.
"Fine," he said. "I'll do it."
Zhang Hu grinned wider. "Smart boy. But before that—" He tapped the table. "It's time for another summoning."
Ye Xuan's pulse quickened. His first summon had given him knowledge of the future, a cheat that had set him on his path. But this time...
"Who?" he asked.
Zhang Hu's eyes gleamed. "Someone who can teach you how to control a conversation. Someone who knows how to make people bend to their will."
Ye Xuan hesitated. He could feel it—the weight of another trade pressing against his soul. A few more years gone.
But then again, what was a few years in exchange for dominating the game?
His fingers curled into a fist. "Let's begin."
The candle flickered, and the air in the room grew thick. As Ye Xuan reached into the abyss once more, he could only wonder:
Who would answer his call this time?
The room darkened as Ye Xuan placed his hand on the cold wooden floor. A deep chill seeped into his bones as the contract took form.
The price had already been set—one year of his lifespan.
With a slow, deliberate breath, he muttered the incantation.
"From the depths of the forgotten, I call upon the one who danced with queens, who whispered into the hearts of empresses... The one whose words bent fate itself—appear before me!"
The candlelight flickered violently, the shadows stretching unnaturally. The apartment trembled as if something unseen had slithered into reality.
Then—he arrived.
A gust of air blew out the candle, and in the dim light stood a figure dressed in a deep crimson suit, his tie slightly loosened as if he had just come from a night of indulgence. His hair was dark and slicked back, his face sharp yet eerily enchanting. A faint smirk played on his lips as his golden eyes gleamed with amusement.
"Well, well. Look at what we have here—a boy who lost his woman and now thinks he can play with fire."
Ye Xuan clenched his jaw. He had expected arrogance, but this man's words felt like a dagger aimed straight at his pride.
"Who are you?" he asked coldly.
The man chuckled, stepping forward with effortless confidence.
"Call me Wei Zhen. The man who turned princesses into pawns and made mistresses out of queens." His gaze bore into Ye Xuan's soul. "And you, my dear boy, are the very definition of a failure."
Ye Xuan's fingers twitched. "Say that again."
Wei Zhen grinned. "What? You want to hit me? Go ahead. But will that bring her back?" He leaned in, his voice lowering into a whisper. "Do you think Su Mengyao ever truly saw you as a man?"
Ye Xuan's breath hitched.
"Face it. You let her believe you were safe—a kind, reliable backup who wouldn't leave her no matter what. You weren't a challenge, you weren't a danger... you were just there." Wei Zhen tilted his head, as if pitying him.
"Then the moment a man with power, status, and confidence walked in, what did she do?"
She left.
No—worse.
She thanked him for being a good guy.
Ye Xuan's nails dug into his palms. He had spent so much time resenting her, resenting Lin Tianyi, and resenting the world for treating him like trash. But now, standing before this phantom from another time, the truth clawed at him.
He had let himself become forgettable.
"Good," Wei Zhen mused. "You're angry, but not at me. That means there's hope for you yet."
He stretched out his hand.
"I will teach you the art of attraction, seduction, and control. I will show you how to make her crave you—to regret ever letting you go. And not just her. Women, power, influence... all of it can be yours."
Ye Xuan eyed the outstretched hand warily. "And what's the catch?"
Wei Zhen's smirk widened. "I don't work for free."
His golden eyes gleamed.
"You will follow my teachings without question. And in return, I won't just make you desirable... I'll make you unforgettable."
The room felt heavier. This wasn't a deal for advice—this was a pact to reshape him entirely.
Ye Xuan exhaled sharply, then reached forward.
Their hands clasped.
A pulse of energy surged through his body, his skin tingling with an unfamiliar warmth. He felt lighter, sharper, and more aware—as if something inside him had been unlocked.
Wei Zhen grinned. "Lesson one: Confidence isn't given. It's taken."
And just like that, Ye Xuan's path shifted once more.
Ye Xuan, now armed with the knowledge and taunts of the newly summoned soul, steps out into the neon-lit streets. His mind is a storm of thoughts, lingering on the words that cut deeper than he expected. "You were nothing but a placeholder. A man with no ambition deserves to be discarded."
His fingers curl into a fist as he exhales, his breath turning into mist under the cold night air. Tonight, he was going to change.
The city's nightlife buzzes around him—luxury cars rolling by, laughter spilling from high-end bars, men in suits escorting stunning women into exclusive clubs. He keeps walking, his destination clear—the host club where his old friend once worked.
Upon arrival, the building looms before him, an elegant masterpiece of modern design. A crimson-lit sign glows above the entrance, "Élysée," the name whispering of exclusivity and indulgence. The bouncers at the entrance barely glanced at him before stepping aside; his connection had already paved the way.
Inside, the world shifts. Plush velvet seating, a soft golden glow from the chandeliers, and the intoxicating blend of expensive perfume and cologne fill the air. Women draped in designer dresses sip wine as charming hosts entertain them with whispers and laughter. Every detail speaks of wealth, seduction, and power.
A familiar voice calls out. "Ye Xuan?"
Turning, he sees Luo Wei, his old friend, dressed in an impeccably tailored suit, a sly smirk playing on his lips. "I didn't expect to see you here. Finally decided to step out of the shadows."
Even before this, his friend Luo Wei had called him about this job. But at that time, he was way too engrossed with Su Mengyao and did not get this job at all.
Before Ye Xuan can respond, Luo Wei claps a hand on his shoulder. "Come on, let's get you settled in. If you're serious about this, there's someone you need to meet first."
Guided deeper into the club, past private lounges and VIP booths, Ye Xuan soon finds himself standing before an elegant, glass-walled office. Inside, reclining on a luxurious leather couch, is the woman who runs it all.
Her presence is magnetic—long, raven-black hair cascading over a deep crimson dress, eyes that hold amusement and danger in equal measure. With a slow, knowing smile, she gestures for him to enter.
"So, you're the new player in my city?" She muses, her voice smooth like aged whiskey. "Let's see if you're worth my time."