Chapter 10: The Reborn Master Writer, Part Two

“Have Mom and Dad found out?” Mu Yin asked as she leaned back.

“What do you think? How could they not know after something this big happened?” Li Xing replied irritably.

“Well, I don’t feel like it’s a big deal anymore. Call them and tell them not to worry,” Mu Yin said. She was now standing in for the original owner of the body and naturally had to consider the family’s feelings.

“Alright, I’ll call and tell them not to come.” Li Xing nodded and pulled out his phone. He explained that his sister had woken up and was fine, that he was taking care of her there, so they didn’t need to come. After a few reminders from the person on the other end, he nodded in agreement.

“Okay, I understand. I’ll take good care of my sister. Alright, I’m hanging up.” Li Xing put away his phone and said, “I’ve told Mom and Dad. The medical expenses from your accident are covered by the transport company and insurance, so don’t worry about money. Just focus on your recovery.”

“Oh,” Mu Yin nodded. “Brother, I’m hungry.”

“Oh, I almost forgot. Since you just woke up, I don’t know if you can eat yet. I’ll call the doctor first.” Li Xing suddenly remembered he hadn’t called the doctor yet and pressed the call button beside the bed.

“Could you pour me some water first?” Mu Yin watched him with some exasperation. Men really weren’t very attentive when it came to caregiving.

“Here, drink this.” Li Xing handed her a glass of water, which was still a bit hot. Mu Yin felt a little speechless and wondered if she had made the wrong choice by not having her mother take care of her instead.

She gently blew on the water and sipped a few mouthfuls before starting to look around the hospital room. There were three beds, but only she was currently occupying one. Judging by the state of the other two beds, they weren’t empty—probably the occupants had gone to eat. She checked the clock on the wall.

Soon, the doctor arrived and examined her condition, glanced at the intravenous drip—still more than half full—and gave a few instructions. Li Xing asked about dietary restrictions, and the doctor gave some advice before leaving.

“I’ll go buy you something to eat. You keep an eye on yourself,” Li Xing said to Mu Yin, then took out her phone. “Your phone still works. If you get bored, you can play with it.”

“Okay,” Mu Yin nodded and watched him leave. She then assessed her leg. It was just set with a cast after realignment, no steel plates or anything else. She breathed a sigh of relief and began to activate her supernatural ability to accelerate healing, but cautiously—only doubling the wound’s recovery speed.

Then she started gathering information about the original owner. The original owner was Li Mumu, 19 years old, a sophomore majoring in art with a focus on comics. Her family lived in a small county town and had some assets—a shop and two houses. She had only one older brother, Li Xing, 25 years old, a newly hired programmer.

This time, she had come home for a short holiday, but the original owner died instantly in a car accident on the way. Mu Yin had entered this world at that moment, and since their energies were compatible, she entered the original owner’s body and resurrected her using her life-related supernatural ability.

Because of this type of transmigration, she didn’t have to fulfill the original owner’s unfinished business. At most, she borrowed the original’s body and naturally bore her responsibilities and obligations. Mu Yin had no objections to that.

Soon, Li Xing returned with food, all doctor-recommended items beneficial to her health. Mu Yin stayed in the hospital for over a week; the other wounds had healed sufficiently, and she was ready for discharge, with plans for regular check-ups on her leg.

Because the accident was severe, the media covered it and even tried to interview her, but she refused. She had no plans to become a public figure. The benefit was that with so much attention, the compensation arrived promptly. The amount wasn’t large, as medical expenses were deducted, but there were still tens of thousands, including future check-up costs.

“Brother, have you found the apartment I asked you to rent?” Now that she was in a wheelchair, dorm life was unsuitable. She had asked Li Xing to help arrange leave from school and look for housing.

“It’s all set, near your school, on the seventh floor with an elevator. It’s a two-bedroom, one-living room place. The rent isn’t cheap. I’m planning to move in with you for now until you get better,” Li Xing explained.

“No, that’s not necessary. I can manage on my own,” Mu Yin quickly shook her head, not wanting to live with him.

“No way. Mom and Dad won’t agree to you living alone, at least not for these two months. I’ve already moved everything in. No arguments,” Li Xing said firmly.

Knowing she couldn’t refuse, Mu Yin gave up. When they arrived at the apartment, they took the elevator up to the seventh floor. The place was better than expected—besides two bedrooms, it had a kitchen and a bathroom, quite a nice setup. No wonder the rent was over five thousand a month.

Some basic furniture was complete, like a range hood, stove, and natural gas in the kitchen, and TVs and air conditioners in both bedrooms, but nothing else.

Li Xing had moved her daily necessities from the school dorm in the past couple of days, with help from her roommates. Mu Yin planned to invite them out to thank them after a few days. She tidied up, took out her computer and graphics tablet—this was how comics were made nowadays, though she had never used one before and was eager to try.

Her drawing skills were on par with the original owner, if not better; she had also studied traditional Chinese painting, oil painting, sketching, and realism. After all, she had learned art to better harness her supernatural abilities.

Entertainment was thriving in this world—comics, animation, TV, films, music, games—all well-developed industries. Copyright protection was strict; piracy was punishable by sentences up to life imprisonment based on profits.

Moreover, criminals weren’t locked away in prisons but forced to work wearing special collars. Dangerous tasks were assigned to these convicts. The collars had devices that emitted electric shocks if they strayed beyond designated zones—non-lethal but stunning. The collars were extremely tough, only laser cutters could sever them.

Escapes were rare, leading to a significant drop in crime rates worldwide. This planet was vast—about ten times the size of Earth, with gravity five times stronger, a population of 8 billion, and many unexplored areas—ideal exile locations for criminals.

With low crime, the entertainment industry flourished, making it challenging for newcomers to break through.

:.:.