Inside a cramped, run‑down rental room, Jasper Riverside sat on the edge of the bed, head pounding like someone had dropped a speaker inside his skull. His phone was still in his hand, the screen lit up with a string of chat messages so disgusting they made his stomach twist.

“Picture.”

“Who is this?”

“Who sent it to you?”

“Are you really not planning to explain anything?”

“Jasper, I’m sorry. We’ve been together for three years, but I only realized later… what I felt was more like sibling affection. Honestly, I always saw you as an older brother.”

“Since you’ve seen it, I won’t say more. Let’s break up. I want a dragon who soars above the clouds.”

“Our performance at the graduation party—let’s cancel that too. I don’t want my current boyfriend to misunderstand.”

He had just absorbed the previous Jasper’s memories, and his head still felt foggy, as if thoughts were stuck in molasses.

The room around him was a total disaster.

Beer bottles scattered everywhere. Half‑smoked cigarette butts soaked in a bowl of murky water. The sour, choking stench crawled straight into his nose and made him frown.

From the inherited memories—

He was a senior at the Crimson River Film Institute.

Back in freshman year, because of his annoyingly good‑looking face, he’d been voted campus heartthrob. And during his very first class, he met Isabelle Anderson, the department’s star beauty. He fell for her on sight and went all‑in on the chase.

They got together quickly, and the original Jasper had stupidly believed they’d get married after graduation. But before senior year even wrapped up—after just two simple internships—she dumped him.

He’d called her again and again. She never picked up.

On WeChat, she only left him that pile of ice‑cold lines.

The original Jasper had tried to drown his heartbreak in booze and smoke, then blacked out completely. No one knew where he’d gone after that—maybe his soul had slipped into another world too.

Either way, the Jasper Riverside from Blue Star had ended up here.

He pushed open the window. A few deep breaths of fresh air helped clear the fog in his head. When he finally felt steady enough, he grabbed his phone and scrolled through the chat history.

“Seriously? Calling him ‘brother’? Brother my foot. A guy who gives you his whole heart, and all he gets back is humiliation.”

“Man, this dude’s luck is tragic. Three years of dating, flushed straight down the drain.”

“And he really went overboard. For a cheating woman, he smoked and drank himself half to death in one night… pathetic.”

Jasper looked at the messages, his expression somewhere between speechless and annoyed.

He muttered, “Pathetic is right. A campus heartthrob—fine, maybe not a full-on player, but at least don’t be a doormat. And if you’re gonna be a simp, at least simp for a few more people. Be a battle-hardened simp! Getting wrecked by one girl? Come on.”

It took him a long, quiet two minutes to fully accept that he had actually crossed over.

Sure, the original body had the same name as him, but their personalities were galaxies apart.

Back in his old life, he’d been halfway through a barbecue skewer when he saw a group of men harassing some girls. He didn’t even hesitate—charged right in. Two moves later, the thugs were on their knees begging him not to kill them.

And he still ended up transmigrating.

He had never expected that he’d wake up in the skin of a first-class simp.

But whatever. Now that he was in charge of this body, there was no way he’d keep licking anyone’s boots. At the very least, he’d be a sea wolf, not a lapdog.

Just then, sharp knocking rattled the door.

“Jasper! Jasper Riverside, open up! Don’t pretend you’re not home—I know you’re in there! Are you renewing the lease or not? If not, you’ve got one week to move out!”

It was the landlady.

“Got it. I’ll give you an answer in the next couple of days.”

Jasper said calmly, then…

Jasper Riverside picked up his phone. The screen lit up, showing his entire fortune: 123.45 yuan. Five digits if you counted the decimal and the misery.

Looking at that pathetic balance, he finally understood why Isabelle Anderson had dumped him.

If his inherited memories were right, she’d joined some girl‑group reality show during her internship—and actually debuted.

And a girl with no background, no backing, no connections… making it into a girl group?

Yeah. Everyone knew what that usually meant.

Jasper let out a long sigh and swept his gaze around the tiny rental room.

Tiny as in literally‑two‑steps‑and-you-hit-a-wall tiny. And yet the monthly rent still hit four or five thousand.

Big city life. It didn’t just drain people—it chewed them up.

If he wanted to live even halfway comfortably in the future, he had to start making money. Real money.

And the fastest route? The entertainment industry, hands down.

Plus, according to the memories he absorbed, the music, films, TV shows, and variety programs in this world were nothing like the ones from his old world. Completely different timelines, completely different classics.

That actually made Jasper’s heart skip with excitement. Sure, he didn’t remember every legendary song from his past life—but as an old fanboy?

First, he could turn Mr. Zhou into Murdoch Ashford.

Then turn Mr. Xu into something like… High Noon.

Novels were fair game, too.

Those over‑the‑top, iconic lines echoed in his head.

“Before you lies Daxia—where even gods must not trespass.”

“If Heaven had not birthed Li Chungang, the way of the sword would be eternal darkness.”

“Heaven and earth are merciless; all beings are but straw dogs.”

“Mr. Bai, Principal Gao is waiting for you in his office.”

“Hou Longtao scratched a lottery ticket and won five million...”

Hold on a second… writing like this might not be as safe as he thought.

Sure, he’d read all those books before. The main plots were still floating somewhere in his memory.

But the real killer was always the details—those tiny, tricky parts that decided whether a story soared or flopped.

And honestly… he wasn’t totally confident about pulling that off.

Wouldn’t it be smarter to get a little boost first?

Just as that thought formed, a deep, resonant voice suddenly echoed in his mind.

[Ding. Congratulations, host. Entertainment System successfully bound.]

[System HQ is currently rushing KPI. All skills have been fully maxed. Training of final host completed. Beginning system unbinding. Spatial backpack will remain. System-provided items will remain.]

[As unbinding compensation, all works within the system have been registered under the host’s name. Intellectual property secured. Host may use them at ease.]

Jasper Riverside was stunned.

The system, just to speed-run its KPI, had dumped every skill into him and then patted its butt and left.

“…Damn. That’s… actually kinda awesome.”

Jasper tried calling out to the voice again.

Nothing.

No response.

Silence so clean it almost whistled.

After poking around mentally for a long while, he finally managed to pull out a giant virtual package—stuffed to the brim with every kind of work from Earth.

Novels. Screenplays. Songs. Music.

Even a variety of strange, shiny tools and props.

He hadn’t expected his golden finger to be this hardcore—max skill tree, instant copyright transfer, auto-archive of masterpieces.

With a setup like this, was there even a question?

He was absolutely heading into the entertainment industry.

But first things first—he needed to figure out what the entertainment standards of this world actually looked like.

Jasper headed into the bathroom to wash up before going out to scout the scene.

Holy crap…

So *this* was what maxed-out golden finger mode felt like?

Sharp eyes, clean-cut features, thick dark brows, and a full head of hair.

Add on the standard eight-pack every reader insists he has, and yeah—his foundation was already solid. Now he looked even more annoyingly handsome.

But the next second, Jasper Riverside felt his irritation spike as he stared into the mirror.

“Seriously? Looking like this, and you were out here throwing your life away over a girl? She debuted, so why didn’t you debut too? Worst case, you could’ve just pulled the classic ‘Ma’am, I don’t want to work hard anymore,’ made some money, and found someone new. Way better than dying for love.”

Not just a simp. A clueless simp.

Fine. Since he was using this body now, if the chance ever came, he’d definitely help the original guy settle the score with that woman.

Jasper stopped dwelling on the pathetic past.

The real problem was—where should he go first?

Then it hit him.

Why was he even thinking so hard? He was still in college.

Crimson River Film Institute.

A place practically glued to the entertainment industry.

And honestly, what better place to figure out this world’s sense of aesthetics than the campus right next to showbiz itself?