Why Is Mr. Handsome Always Angry? - Chapter 1

Fancy a tense, thrilling game of dying over and over?

When I opened my eyes, an unfamiliar face was staring back at me.

“Hss.” I heard a sharp intake of breath.

Oh. That was me.

Because I was looking at an absolutely gorgeous man.

Instinctively, I reached up to cover my nose, hoping to stop the nosebleed that would give away my innermost thoughts.

I failed.

My hands were tied.

In despair, I let a thin, warm trickle of blood run from my nose.

“Actually, I’ve got too much internal heat…” I couldn’t help sniffling. “Would you believe that?”

He gave me a cursory glance, utterly expressionless.

It was over. He didn’t believe me. In front of this beautiful man, I had lost my chance to make a pure, adorable, kind, pretty, shy, yet outgoing first impression.

Still, I thought I could salvage things.

“Yes, you’re absolutely right. I want your body.” I adopted a look of impassioned righteousness.

Excellent. I had presented myself as a beautiful girl brave enough to face the truth in her heart.

Thinking that he might already have fallen for such a courageous, unpretentious girl, I smiled in satisfaction.

He said nothing. He simply approached, a trace of contempt in his eyes.

I blinked in confusion as he casually took a gleaming silver pistol from inside his coat and aimed it at my chest.

Flicking off the safety and pulling the trigger took only a few seconds—too little time for me to get so much as a word out.

I was gone.

My perverted nature had cost me a golden opportunity to win a gorgeous man. Then the gorgeous man had shot me dead.

A lesson written in blood and tears.

I gritted my teeth and vowed that if I ever dreamed of someone this stunning again, I would mend my ways. The nosebleed could wait until after I had him.

Heaven took pity on me.

Looking at the man before me, identical to the one I had just seen, I knew fate had brought him back into my dreams.

This time, I would absolutely keep my nose from bleeding!

“Hey, handsome! We meet again.” I greeted him excitedly, then discovered I couldn’t lift my hands.

This situation felt vaguely familiar.

I was tied to a pillar, my hands bound behind it.

My heart began to race.

Could this be…

Bondage play!

Hss… How exciting. Exactly the sort of dream a deviant like me would have.

Oh no. I was losing control.

My nose was about to bleed.

But in the end, I conquered my instincts and kept it in.

I stayed meekly in my bonds, batting my almond-shaped eyes at him, all shyness and anticipation.

He walked slowly toward me. I was so excited I could have soared into the sky.

And I did soar into the sky.

Because without a word, he pulled out a pistol and shot me without hesitation.

This was not how the plot was supposed to go!

My nose hadn’t bled!

Why was this happening?

Fuck, getting shot hurt. This dream was way too fucking realistic.

My feelings were now a little complicated.

Fine. More than a little.

Looking at this man who had appeared in my dreams yet again, I concluded that I really had been lonely for too long.

I had always been more mature than my peers. I understood the importance of learning from my mistakes.

So this time, I would be demure.

No—pretend to be demure.

Still tied up, I fumbled my hands together helplessly.

I lightly bit my lower lip, dipped my head at a forty-five-degree angle, and let my gaze wander. Every so often, I glanced at him, then hurriedly looked away the moment our eyes met.

I was confident I was the purest white lotus in the world. Qiong Yao’s heroines would have to bow before me; every scheming female rival in every angsty romance would surrender to my superior skills.

He stared at me for quite a while.

It was working. Clearly, I had captured his heart.

I was secretly celebrating.

Wait a second…

He was coming over.

Wait a second…

His hand was going inside his clothes!

If I wasn’t mistaken…

“STOP!” I suddenly bellowed. My voice reverberated through the small space and came back to my own ears.

Hey. Such strong lungs. That was me.

He seemed not to have expected my shout. His movements halted too.

“Um, don’t take out the gun…” I stared fixedly at his hand, terrified that in the next second he would pull out the weapon that had killed me twice.

He was silent for a moment, then the corner of his mouth curved slightly upward.

Heavens. The beautiful man had smiled.

Spring had arrived.

I melted.

Even if he pulled out a gun and shot me right now, it would be worth it.

But he didn’t. His hand emerged empty.

I was cured. I was ready.

Come on, then. Take me from the front, please.

Excitedly, I closed my eyes and waited for the scene I had longed for.

It seemed like ages, though probably not that long.

Either way, he still hadn’t put his hands all over me.

I was getting a little angry.

Had I lost my feminine allure?

Impossible.

I immediately rejected that absurd idea.

When I couldn’t resist sneaking my eyes open again, I saw his face this close for the first time.

It really was almost perfect.

Got it. He wanted to kiss me.

ODK.

I was about to pucker up when his hand suddenly clamped around my throat.

Before I could react, his grip tightened and tightened, until the last air in my lungs was gone.

I stared at him with wide eyes, into his unreadable gaze.

He really was beautiful.

I thought I understood now. He hated me.

And he really did want to kill me.