Reborn, I Became a Male God - Chapter 56

Jing Ling understood the meaning of those words almost instantly. His gaze shifted toward the back of his ear—it looked like the man had seen through the human-skin mask. He couldn’t help but size the man up. The man was undeniably handsome, with broad shoulders, a narrow waist, and long legs. Dressed in a uniform, someone like him should have stood out in a crowd. But right now, oddly enough, he was so unremarkable that people would subconsciously overlook him like any forgettable passerby.

Even Jing Ling himself had only found the man’s movement a little unusual when he reached out to block Yunshu, but he hadn’t thought any further. After all, this was the capital. It wasn’t strange for law enforcement to have a few hidden masters among them. It wasn’t until the man unmasked his disguise with a single sentence that Jing Ling realized something was off.

Sure enough, he had lived in peace and comfort for too long, and his vigilance had dulled.

Many thoughts flashed through Jing Ling’s mind, but in reality, only a moment had passed. As the officer brushed past him, he said, “Don’t worry. I’m a good person.”

Xu Shaohuai let out a soft chuckle and replied noncommittally, “Let’s hope so.”

He came from a special department and knew his own capabilities well. His earlier move had been a reflex—swift, no doubt—but he hadn’t expected someone to move even faster, shielding the target before him. And this person had sensed his intent despite facing away. That kind of reaction speed was far beyond what an ordinary person could possess, which immediately made him suspicious.

And the events that followed proved his instincts correct. Two children had fallen from the fourth floor, one after the other. Catching the first one could be chalked up to coincidence—he happened to be standing in the right spot—but catching the second? That couldn’t be explained by luck. He noticed the man’s arms hanging awkwardly—clearly severely injured. Doing a good deed anonymously was understandable, but trying to sneak away under such circumstances made one question whether there was more to this person’s identity.

Following that line of thought, Xu Shaohuai realized the man’s expression while speaking seemed stiff and unnatural. Coincidentally, Xu had done some study in disguise. After observing him carefully for a moment, though no obvious flaws were visible, he could confirm the man was wearing a human-skin mask. So it wasn’t unwarranted for him to be suspicious—after all, what normal person wears a human-skin mask around casually? And the craftsmanship was exquisite, far from the cheap, obvious ones that could be spotted at a glance.

Xu Shaohuai wasn’t the local beat cop. Today, he was doing someone a favor by accompanying a rookie trainee. Old Master Huang had thought his grandson was too unruly, so he had him assigned as a beat cop in this area, hoping to temper his character. And it had worked—after over a year here, his personality had mellowed out quite a bit. This year, two new interns joined, and one of them was assigned to Huang Shiheng. At first, he had taken the mentorship seriously. But half a month ago, the girl he’d been chasing for ages finally agreed to be his girlfriend. From that moment on, all his attention had shifted to pleasing his girlfriend. As for his apprentice—what apprentice? Can you eat that?

When the accident happened at Hualian Plaza, the mall called the police, and it was Huang Shiheng’s apprentice, Liang Xiao, who picked up. Originally, Huang Shiheng should’ve responded with his apprentice. But Xu Shaohuai happened to be passing by and dropped in to check on him. The kid looked at him like he’d seen his savior, calling him “Shaohuai-ge” with more affection than he had for his own brother. Xu, in a good mood, agreed to help by taking the apprentice along.

Huang Shiheng cheered, clapped his apprentice on the shoulder, told him to pay attention and learn well, then dashed off to change clothes and drive off to see his girlfriend.

On the way over, Xu Shaohuai had asked Liang Xiao about the call and heard that the report simply mentioned an incident with no casualties, so he hadn’t thought much of it. Who knew he’d stumble into something like this?

But now wasn’t the time to overthink. The man was injured while saving people. The priority was to get him to the hospital. No matter how suspicious this person’s identity was, now that he had noticed, Xu would keep a close eye on him and wouldn’t let him get away. There would be time for questions later.

The hospital wasn’t far from the mall. They soon arrived. One adult and two children went straight into the emergency room. On the surface, none of the three seemed hurt—they could walk, jump, and talk. If Xu Shaohuai hadn’t been in uniform, the nurses might’ve thought they were wasting hospital resources. But after hearing Xu’s description and cutting open Jing Ling’s sleeves to inspect his arms, the nurses were shocked. They couldn’t imagine how someone could look so calm with injuries that severe—it was as if those hands weren’t his.

Preliminary examinations confirmed that both of Jing Ling’s hands had serious fractures. He needed to be hospitalized until the swelling went down before surgery could be arranged. The two children, however, were fine—just frightened. Their parents only needed to take extra care of them.

Soon after, the children’s mother rushed in—a woman in her thirties still in business attire, clearly having worked through the weekend. At first, her face was filled with panic and worry. Once she confirmed the kids were safe, she finally let out a sigh of relief, then profusely thanked Jing Ling and his group, insisting they take good care of him and that her family would cover all medical expenses.

Jing Ling first asked Yunshu to buy him some food. Then, using the excuse that he wanted to rest, he sent the family away. In the end, only he and Xu Shaohuai remained in the room.

“Officer, may I ask your surname?” Jing Ling asked.

“No need for courtesy—surname Xu,” Xu Shaohuai replied.

“Officer Xu, could I trouble you with something?” Jing Ling said. Before Xu could answer, he continued, “I know there are surveillance cameras in the mall. Could you contact them and ask them not to release the footage… Officer Xu, could you not look at me like that? I really am a good person. I have no criminal record. My identity’s just… a little special. My ID is in the wallet in my jacket pocket. I can’t move right now—could you please get it yourself?”

Xu Shaohuai raised an eyebrow, reached over for the jacket at the bedside, pulled out the wallet, and took out the ID card. They say ID photos are the worst anyone ever looks, but some people just seem blessed—like they’re on a cheat code—able to look great even in ID photos. This one in his hand, for instance: the features and bone structure were nearly flawless.

He looked at the photo, then back at the injured man lying in the bed. Though the disguise had changed his appearance, the bone structure and those eyes were unmistakably the same.

“Jing Ling?” he muttered, the name sounding familiar. After a moment’s thought, he pulled out his phone and searched the name online. When he saw the results, he immediately understood. “So it’s you.” His tone held some hidden meaning.

“Of all the things you could’ve done, you had to go into that filthy industry. What a waste!” Xu Shaohuai said. Born into privilege, he had always held himself to high standards. But many of his similarly privileged peers were not so restrained—he’d heard and seen his share of outrageous behavior. As a result, he had always harbored prejudice against people in the entertainment industry. He hadn’t expected to find a rare exception, a breath of fresh air, among them today.

“This is a good thing. Why don’t you want people to know?” he asked.

Jing Ling shook his head. “No need. Besides, I don’t want Yunshu dragged into this right now.”

“Alright. I’ll help you,” Xu Shaohuai agreed without hesitation. He immediately made a call and passed on the request. Naturally, someone would handle it. Since the incident had just happened, the mall had only issued a statement and hadn’t released the footage. Though there were some clips circulating online, they all came from the same source: a bystander who happened to record part of the incident and shared it on social media. The footage was blurry, chaotic, and incomplete.

At that point, Jing Ling truly thought the matter was over. Xu Shaohuai, having sorted everything out, left the hospital.

Not long after, Tan Yunshu returned with food and sat beside the bed, feeding him by hand. Her eyes were red like a rabbit’s, making Jing Ling feel both amused and heartbroken. He apologized, “My bad. I made you worry.”

Yunshu shot back with one word: “Liar!”

Jing Ling: “…”

On May 1st, the movie  Island exploded online. The box office surged, and reviews were overwhelmingly positive. Within twelve hours of its release, the movie broke the 100 million yuan mark, leading the Golden Week box office race.

Feng Chu and Zeng Qing, the lead actors, naturally received the most attention. But the most talked-about figure after them was Jing Ling, who played the villain known as Ninth person. Director Gu had personally selected him, and during filming, had praised his acting. Combined with his striking looks, it was no surprise that both fans and casual viewers praised him after the film’s release. His Weibo followers, which had been slowly growing for a while, suddenly skyrocketed as if on steroids.

The movie’s official account posted a celebratory message for hitting the 100 million milestone. The other actors all reshared it with their congratulations—except for him. His agent, Shen Ze, had been twitching with a bad feeling all morning. When he discovered the omission, he immediately understood why. Without any expression, he called his artist. But when the call connected, it was a woman’s voice on the other end. He paused, then realized—it was that devoted Miss Tan. He tactfully asked if he could speak to his artist, and she kindly passed the phone to Jing Ling.

“My dear young master,” Shen Ze said with frustration, “we agreed you’d work hard. You were doing so well—why do you always mess up at the most important moment?! Your Weibo still has that apology post pinned—don’t tell me you’re planning to add another!”

Jing Ling immediately understood. “A-Ze, calm down!” He paused and added, “Yunahu, help me check what the Island official account posted… Oh, it broke 100 million? Help me reshare it with congratulations.”

From the words clearly not meant for him, Shen Ze could tell something was wrong. He demanded sharply, “Jing Ling, tell me honestly—what are you doing?!”

Jing Ling didn’t hide it. He replied casually, “Nothing much. Just got a little hurt and ended up in the hospital.”

“Where are you hurt? Is it serious? Which hospital? Tell me now!!!”