The Double Life of a Good-for-Nothing

For sixteen years, he'd been a good-for-nothing, despised by his wife.

But nobody knew that those sixteen years of seeming useless were just Chen Yuandong's most masterful disguise.

He'd heard the words "good-for-nothing" for sixteen years. They didn't bother him anymore.

What truly interested him was watching those who looked down on everyone else end up beneath his feet.

Those lofty, high-and-mighty women had never caught his eye.

Yet so many women in this world loved to flock to him, like moths drawn to a flame, coming to him one after another.

He never turned them away, but he never took them seriously, either.

Women were like clothes: if they didn't fit, he changed them.

But while clothes could be changed as often as he liked, he had only one body. Chen Yuandong's body was the world's most sophisticated disguise.

On the surface, he was a good-for-nothing. Behind the scenes, he was a university professor, the Night Emperor who terrified the business world, and the king of the underworld.

For sixteen years, he watched coldly as people who thought they were clever put on a show in front of him, using the vilest words to trample on a "good-for-nothing."

Then he watched as, the moment he bared his fangs, fear and flattery were squeezed onto their faces all at once.

The same old dramas played out in this world, over and over. He would see when the curtain fell and when it was his turn to take the stage.

The underworld and the business world were arenas of bloodshed. As for the spectators below the stage, there were only two possible endings: they either knelt and offered him a toast, or were carried out lying down.

He made the rules of this world. What he said went.