With My Ability To Swap, I Will Never End Up In A Love Triangle Mess - Chapter 62

“Angel Sister, do you want to take a shower? You must be sweaty after coming back from the hospital.”

Lin Xuening suggested.

Though tempted, Xia Xi wasn’t the type to take advantage of the situation, so he brushed it off with an excuse.

“Nothing beats lying in bed!”

Stretched out on Lin Xuening’s cozy dorm bed, Xia Xi let out a contented sigh.

Sure, his original body could always feel the comfort of lying down, but the hospital’s stiff bed was nothing compared to Lin Xuening’s carefully arranged nest.

At the very least, a hospital bed didn’t come with a soft, huggable plushie.

“Rare to see you sleeping this early.”

Wang Yuting teased.

“Just tired today, wanted to rest early.”

Xia Xi effortlessly slipped into the kind of girly, slightly whiny tone girls often used. After all, since returning from Bai Xiaocha’s body, he’d practically mastered all sorts of feminine mannerisms.

Though most of what he’d picked up were cutesy, slightly chuunibyou phrases.

Luckily, no one in Lin Xuening’s dorm was into gaming, so even if he went to bed early, he wouldn’t be disturbed.

This kind of quiet dorm environment was a paradise for anyone who valued sleep.

Back when Xia Xi lived in the male dorms, his roommates smoked indoors, yelled while gaming without a care for others, and made it nearly impossible to sleep early.

No—even if he slept late, there’d always be that one guy blasting voice chat through his headphones, completely ignoring repeated complaints.

Rustle—

Huh?

Rustle—

Wait, what was that sound?

Rustle rustle rustle—

Xia Xi had only been lying down for a few minutes, just on the verge of drifting off, when an irritating noise kept jolting him back awake. Every time he heard it, his brain would snap to attention, killing any chance of sleep.

So, he quietly pulled back the bed curtain and peeked out.

“Angel Sister, what’s wrong?”

Lin Xuening hadn’t noticed anything—just that she’d been about to fall asleep, only to suddenly wake up again, over and over.

She had no clue why this “Angel Sister” was acting so strangely.

Maybe… celestial beings didn’t need sleep, so she didn’t know how to do it properly?

…That excuse felt flimsy even to her.

“Do you hear that really grating noise?”

He whispered the question to Lin Xuening in his mind.

Unsurprisingly, she heard nothing.

Of course, relying on this airhead was pointless—he’d have to investigate himself.

Secretly observing.jpg

Rustle—

That was it!

Xia Xi’s gaze locked onto Zhao Xiaoxiao.

Rustle—

Wait, Wang Yuting was doing it too!

Rustle rustle—

Qin Bingbing as well?!

The rustling from Lin Xuening’s bed was unusually loud in the quiet dorm, drawing the attention of all three roommates, who turned to look at their class monitor—now just a half-visible face peeking out from behind the curtain.

“Xiaoxue, can’t sleep? Want to join us and study for a bit?”

Zhao Xiaoxiao extended a learning invitation.

“No thanks! I’m going back to sleep!”

Asking them to “keep it down” was out of the question.

First, they were just flipping pages—the sound was barely audible and hardly counted as noise.

Second, he was borrowing Lin Xuening’s body. Ruining her relationships with her roommates wasn’t an option.

What he couldn’t figure out was why this bothered him so much. Back when his little sister would play games in his room while he slept, it never woke him up. So why were these tiny page-turning sounds so unbearably sharp?

The three roommates exchanged glances, unsure what was up with Lin Xuening, but since she’d gone back to bed, they resumed their studying.

And then… the “deafening” rustling of pages started up again.

But if he couldn’t sleep, it didn’t matter. Xia Xi simply shifted his focus back to his original body, dulling his awareness of Lin Xuening’s senses. That way, the sound of flipping pages faded into the background.

The view from his hospital bed gradually sharpened.

The first thing he saw was a petite nurse with striking eyes checking on his vitals, her face half-hidden behind a mask.

“Patient in Bed 1 shows no abnormalities, though appears somewhat vacant—possibly neurological symptoms from food poisoning. No immediate risks detected.”

On her clipboard, she’d jotted down notes about his spaced-out behavior whenever his consciousness was elsewhere.

“Nurse, can you not write me up as some brain-dead idiot? Don’t I look perfectly normal now?”

Those records would be reviewed by senior staff, and soon the whole hospital might know him as “that vacant guy in Bed 1.”

“Not a chance~ I’m just recording the facts.”

The nurse stood her ground, refusing to edit her notes.

Great. Not only was he hospitalized for food poisoning, but now he’d also be the butt of jokes as the “dim-witted patient.”

“Tch. Nurse, you wouldn’t want to see a bad review in your performance feedback, would you?”

Patients could file complaints against hospital staff, though most didn’t—who knew if they’d get worse treatment later?

“You—!”

The nurse’s eyes flashed as she glared at him.

Neither was willing to back down.

Xia Xi had all the time in the world, stuck in bed with nowhere to go. But the nurse was on duty—she couldn’t afford to waste time arguing.

So, reluctantly, she blacked out the “vacant idiot” description, leaving only the standard notes.

Only then did Xia Xi nod in satisfaction.

“Hmph. I’ll remember this. Just you wait!”

A nurse threatening a patient?

Xia Xi wasn’t worried about retaliation—worst case, she’d just be a little frostier. No big deal.

Once her rounds were over, he pulled out his phone and checked his writer dashboard.

Days had passed since he’d “borrowed” the plot of Dragon Raja, and he’d already finished the first installment, with the second nearly a third complete.

Dragon Raja was a masterpiece—its only flaw was how much hate the author got.

And sure enough, the comment section was a bloodbath.

This world had few tragic endings in fiction, and Dragon Raja’s gut-punch finale had readers out for blood.

But Xia Xi didn’t care. Let them rage—those angry readers were his biggest spenders. No shame in chasing profits.

As he scrolled through thousands in virtual gifts and daily earnings in the hundreds, a smirk tugged at his lips.

Go ahead, vent. You don’t know where I live, who I am—good luck mailing me hate.

…Though, what if some unhinged fan actually doxxed him? Surely no one would go that far over a novel, right?

The thought made him uneasy. What if, one day, he was walking down the street and some guys jumped him, yelling “So YOU’RE Summer Morning Light, huh?!”

That’d be a disaster.