I Only Wanted to Write Poems in Peace, but the Assassin Insists on Protecting Me

He transmigrated into the body of an impoverished scholar, and after only three days alive, a killer showed up at his door to claim his life.

With a knife at his throat, he was so terrified that he dropped to his knees and begged for mercy. But the killer stared at his face and abruptly lowered his weapon.

On a rainy night, pursued by assassins, he fled with a battered book of poetry in his arms, only for the killer to close in on him at every turn.

“You’re the one I’ve waited ten years for. You can’t escape.”