Lin Daosheng x Reader | mid-fic/short series: My Captivating Muse (V)
Character / Lin Daosheng x Reader (Gender-neutral)
Genre / Mid-fic / Short series
Sexual harassment / Sexual assault,Coercion / Intimidation,Mentioning and describing vomiting, Loss of consciousness leading to self-harm / Unconscious self-harm,Abuse of power / Exercising authority coercively,Anxiety,Abnormal thoughts / Distorted thinking
Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4
Leaving the tag here, you can request it if you want!
P.S. 1. English is not my first language. This is a translation from my original language, so I apologize if it sounds a bit off.
2. I really want to read fics about the old villain Lin Daosheng, but no one writes them. I’ve only seen a few here and there, so… enjoy! ෆ
The messiness of life is part of what allows one to keep moving forward. It gives rise to purpose, to momentum.
You, at this moment, are trying many new things under your father’s supervision—observing company operations, testing your ability to manage businesses, starting from something small. And when familiarity settles in, only then do things gradually expand.
As the only child of the Xue family, you are, without question, the heir to the family enterprise. Even so, in the past, neither your father nor your mother truly approved of the “real Xue y/n.”
Several nights ago, an evening meeting was arranged at the Xue family mansion. What took place was a formal visit from a partner company preparing for joint investment—Food Axis Supply Chain Co., Ltd., owned by "Gu Hanchuan". The company would later become part of the agricultural supply chain and cold storage logistics for the food enterprise “Perfect Flavor House,” owned by Xue Jiacheng
The discussions were calm, mutual, and careful—contracts as steady as a raft adrift in the middle of the sea.
"Gu Yaochen", the eldest son of the Gu family, was nothing like his imposing, cold, profit-driven father. Despite having ability, he was useless in spirit—lazy, unmotivated, drifting through his days as though nothing in the world truly mattered.
The conversation that night was rather awkward, but it ended well enough. Both your parents and Gu Yaochen’s father hoped that the two of you would get along, in one way or another—an engagement.
No matter how much the tyrannical Gu Hanchuan expected the two children to reconcile, your parents always placed your willingness first. If you did not want it, there would be no engagement at all. You and Gu Yaochen would remain nothing more than business partners—bridges connecting the relationship between the two families. And honestly, that was already more than good enough.
And then there was the most troubling matter of all.
Extravagantly expensive gifts, sent every single day by Lin Daosheng—irritating beyond measure. In truth, you had avoided meeting him countless times already, using the most reasonable excuse there was: being occupied with the family business—learning it, adapting to it, trying to find your footing after losing your memory.
You had repeatedly instructed his people, who delivered the gifts to the mansion gates, that the presents were unnecessary. That there was no need to send them at all.
A creepy, deranged old man.
Today marks the third time this week that you’ve arranged to sever a group FWB relationship—with the third person.
And this one is especially ugly.
Because of this man’s obsession, his stubborn fixation on you—the “former Xue y/n”—it has long crossed the line of normal. Hundreds of messages. Dozens of phone calls. You decide it has to end. Everything the old Xue y/n left behind must be erased. All of it. Cut away the annoyance, discard it completely, so there will be no more bindings. No more obligations.
You didn’t expect him to grab you and kiss you.
After an argument that spiraled endlessly, right there in front of the café called “Cat Alley.” Eyes from every direction turned toward you.
Unfortunately—or perhaps inevitably—you had already instructed your bodyguards beforehand: if anything happened—no matter what—they were not to interfere.
This was a debt left behind by the former Xue y/n. And it all truly happened.
You, who now inhabit this body, must bear the consequences. Even if you didn’t do it—this body did.
And now, you are inside that body.
You lift your foot and drive it hard into his lower body while he isn’t prepared. His body folds in on itself. You grab the collar of the troublesome bastard as he collapses in pain, clutching himself. Your eyes harden. The air sharpens. Your other hand clamps down on his cheek, nails digging in, grip merciless.
“Deaf and stupid isn’t enough—are you insane too, Zhang Lei?”
“W-what’s wrong with you, y/n!? And those things you said—”
Zhang Lei’s face twists, his words spilling out incoherently—only to be cut off by your voice. Like scissors slicing through layers of stacked paper. No matter how many times you cut, the blades never quite bite through everything at once.
“I’ll say this one last time. We’re done.”
The scissors must be pulled back.
Then you press down on the handle, steady your grip, and push the blade into the weakening seam.
“Why won’t you leave quietly like the others? When this is something I refuse to have anymore—this FWB relationship of ours. I don’t want it.”
“I want this to end today. After this, we have nothing to do with each other—except matters between our parents’ businesses!”
Until every stacked sheet is sliced—
Your head turns from the impact, your right cheek buzzing sharply from Zhang Lei’s slap. He bites his lip, as if only now realizing what he’s done. Despair floods his face—pathetic—while his hands grip your shoulders tightly, crushing down with a young man’s strength. You grimace in irritation as his senseless, stubborn words spill out again, looping like a tape chewed through by ants and termites, riddled with nests.
“Come on, what did I do to upset you? Huh? You’ve been ignoring my messages since you left the hospital! My calls too! Let’s talk this through properly—”
This idiot doesn’t understand a thing. Your head throbs, like arguing with a wall. Damn it.
You pry at his hands, forcing yourself not to use your "special ability."
“y/n… y/n… It must be the amnesia! That’s why you’re like this! Don’t you remember how our bodies pressed together? You said I was the best you’d ever had. You think I’m boring now, huh…? We—we can relive those memories. Come on, let’s go back to our place. Okay?”
Zhang Lei’s eyes narrow into something unhinged as he tries to drag you toward his sedan.
Cold liquid explodes over him. Ice clatters across skin and pavement. When your patience finally snaps, you grab your honey lemon iced black tea from the nearby table and fling it straight at Zhang Lei—the man trying to force both your body and your mind in the most disgusting way imaginable. You’d rather sit through ten more meals with Lin Daosheng than relive memories like this. Old memories from another world surge upward.
"Human rights violation."
Even he freezes at your current demeanor. You find yourself wondering—what exactly was the former Xue y/n like with him? From the insane messages sent and the replies given, nothing can truly be concluded. If only this body’s owner had kept a diary.
You step forward, fist twisting into Zhang Lei’s collar, forcing his head down to whispering distance. You don’t want to use your power. You don’t want to make this messier. But the person before you has rejected your mercy again and again.
“You know how much my parents dote on me, don’t you, Zhang Lei?”
“So much that I could accuse you of attempting assault. Of trying to harm me.”
“And they would deal with you—and your once-thriving family business, built solely on connections from my mother.”
“Everything would disappear as if it never existed. That easy. You understand, don’t you? Hmm?”
Zhang Lei stiffens. His breath turns ragged. He grabs your arm like a lifeline, trembling like an animal. His eyes shake with realization. Fear stains his face—yet stubbornness lingers—as he notices the surrounding crowd, and the plainclothes bodyguards loyal to you, baring their teeth in silent threat.
“y/n… y—y/n, let’s talk somewhere else…”
“There are plenty of witnesses here.”
“And if you’re thinking of struggling—think carefully.”
“Between the lies of a family that had to rely on others to grow, drowning in debt—”
“And an old, respected lineage, with loyal supporters and friends of my father ready to protect their friend’s precious child. Me.”
Still, something about it displeases you. The lingering resentment of his threats hums faintly in the air.
The twisted face before you, sweat pouring down, panic swimming in his eyes and gut—it satisfies you, a little. But not in a feral way. At least, you think so.
It’s your first time wielding power like this. And you don’t want to be intoxicated by it.
Your other hand snaps up, gripping Zhang Lei’s cheek one last time. You squeeze, dig in, then fling him aside—leaving behind traces of hatred and revulsion.
Since arriving in this world, he loses to Lin Daosheng in this regard. But oh, great villain father—don’t be sad. You’re no better. Just a different case, a different context.
“Send him home. Make sure he 'gets home.'”
No hesitation. No delay. Your loyal bodyguards move as one—predators responding to their master’s will. People who moments ago seemed like strangers suddenly rise from nearby seats. Coffee cups set down. Laptops snap shut. A man stops cleaning glass. They converge on the target.
They restrain Zhang Lei, drag him to his own car, and force him inside.
You vomit everything out. Breakfast. Snacks. The honey lemon iced black tea from moments ago.
Disgust coils in your throat—at the stench of your own pitiful remnants, at your taste buds forced to relive the act of regurgitating something repulsive. You flush, making sure it all goes down, before stepping away. You turn on the tap at the sink, scoop water up, and scrub at the lips that had been kissed.
It leaves behind the sensation of insects crawling beneath the skin of your mouth.
Until the scent of rust seeps in—drawn out by the violent, repetitive friction.
You freeze for a few seconds.
Your face is blank as you stare at your reflection in the slightly clouded mirror.
Your face. Your eyes. Your body.
After steadying yourself, you wash your face properly, forcing some freshness and calm back into your system. You reach out to turn off the tap, dry your hands, give them a small shake. Everything still feels blurred.
What snaps you back is the ringtone of your phone.
You slip a hand into the pocket sewn into your outfit, fumble for it as you walk out of the restroom—out of the heavy atmosphere. Seeing their master emerge, the bodyguards gesture toward the limousine. A gift from your father, bought after your first successful trial run at company work.
But your head is foggy as you answer the call. There’s no name—just a strange number. And you seem to lack the capacity for judgment, as if none of this is real.
You swear your voice has no weight. No shape.
Light as a feather. Exhausted. Hollow.
(From your voice, you don’t sound very well.)
And you swear again—because the you who was dizzy and loose just moments ago suddenly stiffens. Your step halts mid-stride toward the car. It feels as if an unseen, icy hand has clenched the world tight around you.
The voice on the other end is far too familiar.
Enough to make your skin crawl.
You had thought of him earlier—but only as a comparison. Just a metaphor. Because at the very least, you believed Lin Daosheng would never do that to you.
Thinking of someone worse—yet someone who wouldn’t commit something as vile as what a lesser evil had done.
You don’t want to talk to him. Not now. Not—
“—Ah… my apologies for the rudeness, Mr. Lin. I’m not feeling very well. I may have behaved improperly.”
You hear birds chirping faintly from his side of the line. Then a soft hum.
(So distant, huh? We’re quite familiar with each other, aren’t we?)
You feel faint, bracing a hand against a nearby tree while signaling your bodyguard to step back. He complies—but not too far, just in case you truly collapse.
The young guard clasps his hands in front of him, watching with concern. You give him a thin smile, silently assuring him that you’re fine.
“…That wouldn’t be appropriate. You’re Mr. Lin, after all. I respect you. This is proper.”
(Respect? Declining my invitations for nearly two weeks—that is how you express respect? Interesting.)
Of course you’re not clever compared to an immortal like Lin Daosheng. No matter how much philosophy you know, you can’t match the silver tongue of someone at the top of society—where everything becomes effortless. You’re only acting, scrambling to survive however you can.
(If you respect me, then come see me at the Lin estate.)
Your breath catches. You nearly shout in panic.
Your palms sweat. Is he joking?! He says it as if you’re close enough to casually visit each other’s homes. You don’t understand his logic—his mind. It feels like something already bad is about to become worse.
“Huh? Um… Mr. Lin, that’s a bit much. I don’t think—”
Your attempts at reasoning are cut off coldly. His voice turns frigid—like hail and frost crashing down on you. Even though you’re far apart, it feels as if you’re standing right in front of him.
You know—right now, there is no smile on his face.
(Haven’t I given you enough time?)
The words at the tip of your tongue are crushed beneath several tons of steel. He’s selfish. Unfeeling. Uncompromising. Everything must go his way—or be destroyed. His tone is not a question. It’s a command.
You grit your teeth in irritation—quietly, careful not to let the sound slip through the line.
You don’t want this. You don’t want to sink into the darkness of Lin Daosheng’s grotesque desires. Whether he sees you as a hamster running endlessly on a wheel, or a mouse fighting others for scraps—it makes no difference. You don’t want to exist in his gaze.
You don’t want to be anyone’s toy anymore.
It feels as though the world is prying away the shell of atmosphere that allows you to breathe.
(Hm. Are you not done enjoying the freedom I gave you?)
Why does he have to be this controlling?
“Mr. Lin, please don’t speak in such vague ways. It makes me uncomfortable.”
Clink… clink. Plop. Splash.
You hear the sound of sugar cubes being dropped into tea. He does nothing at all—and yet you understand immediately. He will not accept refusal. Only yes.
You close your eyes, steadying yourself. Your grip tightens around the phone. When you open them again, you stare at anything—anything that might help you decide, might calm the raw ache inside.
What answer should you give?
In the end, you surrender.
Too tired to resist. Out of excuses.
“Tomorrow I’ll come as you invited. I won’t break my word. But today has been… rather chaotic. Please have the kindness to let me settle my thoughts and circumstances first, Mr. Lin.”
Why is he silent? Is that not acceptable…? Are you finished?
(I’m generous enough. I’ll send someone to pick you up. Nine a.m. tomorrow. Be ready.)
“Yes… thank you. Have a good day.”
He doesn’t even return the well-wishes.
You return home, hole yourself up in your room in a haze of lethargy and anxiety.
Whatever this thing is between you and Lin Daosheng—it’s too much. Far too much. It’s becoming clearer in a way that makes your skin crawl. He is interested in you, without question. But in what way?
A fellow philosopher to exchange thoughts and books with?
Or prey—something to flick and toy with, like a roly-poly doll that always springs back upright?
Walking into the enemy’s nest of your own family—
Xue Wanting learns what Zhang Lei did to you. She explodes in fury, immediately severing all lines of support and protection that once existed between the Zhang family and the Xu family. Clean. Fast. Decisive. Another matter settled. That man will never come to bother you again.
You toss another paper crane—folded from used paper—across the bedroom. The thirteenth one. The others lie scattered in a loose cluster at the center of the floor, their short distances from one another betraying the density of your thoughts. You let out a heavy sigh.
Because it seems that none of the former Xue y/n’s memories exist in your mind at all.
You feel a quiet resentment toward fate. Normally, when someone transmigrates, aren’t they supposed to inherit the memories of this world too? There is a silver lining—you don’t have to witness the terrible memories of someone who had everything you did in another world. But you desperately need information here. You need it to survive Lin Daosheng—that kickable old bastard.
You need the small details. The things not written in The Evil Ring manhua.
Like your own family—never mentioned even once. A completely background household. And yet, they live. They exist on their own terms. Just like the other main characters in this story. Not merely props for the backdrop, but people with desires, with personal problems.
After this long, exhausting day, you sink into your bed and fall asleep.
You never expect that the dream—one that erodes reality itself—will become the fuse that causes everything to explode. Like a Big Bang. Everything. Every meaning. Twisting, reshaping, diverging.
Because there can never be two
I confess that I've lost interest in evils rings.But sometimes there's interest. It's kind of confusing.lol
This marks my return after almost a month. My apologies to those who have been waiting for this series.
I'm trying my best to put the plot together well, and I'll be adding the next chapter soon, don't worry! I'm having so much fun writing the next chapter!! I can't wait for you all to read it :^)
P.s.Some people wondered that...y/n Looks depressing. YES THEY ARE 😂
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