I, the screenwriter, have experienced a resurgence of inspiration.

He died at the end of the Song Dynasty.

Then she came back to life.

There was a strange man's corpse in front of them.

……

The bedroom was in complete disarray, with items scattered all over the desk, drawers wide open, and their contents carelessly tossed on the floor.

Behind the light green blackout curtains was a wide-open old-fashioned glass window, through which one could vaguely see tangled, aged electrical wires.

The sky outside the window was bright, and the sound of neighbors opening their doors in the hallway was as usual. If you listened carefully, you could also hear the vendors calling out their wares at the vegetable market next door.

This is a residential building in an old neighborhood.

"Good morning, you two are going to work? Perfect timing, I'm going for my morning exercise..."

"Hurry up, you'll be late, kid! Put your red scarf on properly before you run! Hey—grab the milk, have your dad take you on his electric scooter!"

"Old Wang, wanna play cards this afternoon? My grandson's at his grandma's."

"Boss, give me two pickled cabbage buns, two pork buns, one braised egg, and one soy milk, packed separately. Hurry, I'm in a rush!"

The warmth and vibrancy of everyday life made the morning feel especially fresh and lively.

The problem is, this is not Song Mo's own bedroom, and this body is not Song Mo's body.

On the ground in front of her lay the corpse of a middle-aged man with a grotesque face and a pale complexion.

She must be dreaming.

Song Mo touched the large, drafty hole on the back of his head with a blank expression, and could even feel the sticky brain tissue inside.

Then, she spoke her first words after coming back to life:

"Ah, the back of my head is gone."

"Or maybe I should just go back to my death. At least my own corpse would be intact."

……

……

It's a bit uncertain at the end of the Song Dynasty; does her current state qualify as "living"?

After all, even though she didn't have much medical knowledge, she had never seen anyone bleed so much and still survive after their skull was shattered.

She didn't feel any pain, just a cool sensation on the back of her head.

Even emotions like "panic" and "fear" have disappeared.

[Found some low-level writing material: Wang Dazhi's corpse (He installed a camera in his tenant's room before his death, secretly retrieved it in the middle of the night, and was discovered by "Song Mo". Fearing exposure, he attacked and killed him. During the struggle, he was accidentally killed by the resisting "Song Mo".)]

A string of Chinese characters, seemingly soaked in ink, silently appeared above the corpse.

Surprisingly, Song Mo did not feel any fear when faced with a corpse that had just died.

She crouched down and groped around on the ground, and sure enough, she found a pinhole camera that was soaked in blood.

"So this is a parallel universe? I'm pretty sure I fell off a cruise ship and drowned—and this isn't my body."

The question is, if I am "resurrected" here, where did the original "late Song Dynasty" go?

Song Mo completely ignored the strange characters, jumped around a couple of times, and found that she was indeed not uncomfortable.

Not only did my back not ache and my legs not hurt, but I even stopped breathing and my heart was not beating!

Good news: I was reborn in a parallel world.

Bad news: If alive.

The ink-written characters seemed to express dissatisfaction with the disregard shown by the late Song dynasty; the ink was pushed aside to reveal the next line of text:

[Remaining lifespan: 6 day, 23 hours, 49 minutes, and 40 seconds]

[Screenwriting points: 0]

[Current number of visualized scripts: 0]

[Please write a script as soon as possible to extend your survival time.]

Late Song Dynasty: "..."

She was urged to die as soon as she came back to life, and even after being reborn, she still had to work as a screenwriter!

……

……

Reborn, and with a cheat code.

At the end of the Song Dynasty, he only had time to briefly reminisce about his original six-figure savings before he began to think about how to deal with the mess in front of him.

The original owner of this body did not live alone; she shared this old house with two girls who worked at a hot pot restaurant.

Coincidentally, the original "Song Mo" was also a creator, but his salary was pitifully meager, barely enough to support himself.

The dead man lying on the ground was the landlord from the late Song Dynasty.

He must have sneaked into the rented house in the middle of the night, but he didn't expect the original owner to be awake, so he used the hammer he was carrying to hit the original owner.

But it could be his first time killing someone, or he might be afraid that the original owner's screams would attract attention.

The murderer, driven by murderous intent, struck with deadly force, smashing the back of the original owner's head with a hammer.

—This may be the catalyst for the end of the Song Dynasty.

But before the original owner collapsed, he used all his strength to stab a calligraphy brush into Wang Dazhi's neck.

Then, the original owner died, and Wang Dazhi lay on the ground, making "heh heh heh" sounds, watching his blood drain away little by little.

He probably didn't expect that the original owner of this body, a girl, would be so strong, nor did he expect that he would be killed in return.

……

Wang Dazhi's appearance is nothing special; he has a very ordinary face, with dark skin and pale lips.

His eyes, wide open in anger, were already cloudy, and a hint of disbelief lingered on his face.

The corpse was wearing a yellowed undershirt on its upper body, and shorts on its lower body that couldn't cover its already overweight belly.

One of the two flip-flops was barely hanging on my foot, while the other one had disappeared somewhere.

Judging by appearance alone, it's exactly the classic look you'd see in a card and chess room:

He's middle-aged and overweight, has a little money, likes to hold a thermos, puff on his card-playing friends, and brag to his tenants.

But at this moment, a hollow brush tube was stuck in his neck, and the splattered blood almost stained the entire bedroom floor red.

Most of the blood had dried, pooling on the carpet and leaving an unsettling dark red stain, reminiscent of pig's blood cake.

Small areas of livor mortis have begun to appear on the exposed skin of the corpse.

The late Song Dynasty fell into deep thought:

—It's summer now, and in six hours at most, the stench of a corpse will penetrate the thin door of the rental house.

At that time, just like in some crime dramas: the roommate called the police because of a strange smell, and the police who came to the door accidentally found a corpse and blood all over the floor.

Oh, and there's also a "murderer" who's alive despite having a hole in his head and bleeding at least a bucket of blood.

Call the police?

How would Song Mo explain his current state as a living dead?

Who knows if there might be some fanatical scientists in a parallel universe who are obsessed with dissections or something?

run away?

She has no memories of the original owner of this body, so she is facing an almost completely unfamiliar world.

Where did they run off to?

Song Mo was confident in herself; she would be caught within three days at most, not to mention that she was currently a "living dead."

So… her gaze finally fell back on that line of ink-wash style Chinese characters:

"I hope you can be of some use."

……

……

At the end of the Song Dynasty, there were two roommates who both worked at a hot pot restaurant. One was named Cui Lili and the other was named Ma Aiyuan. They were both young and in the prime of their youth, working like oxen and horses... oops, in the best years of their lives.

The two of them worked the night shift yesterday and didn't get back to rest until 4 a.m.

At noon, Cui Lili and Ma Aiyuan, having finished their nap, yawned and went into the kitchen one after the other to find food.

……

"My God, I'm exhausted. Let me tell you, yesterday's customers stayed until 3:30."

Not only could they not hold their liquor, but they also kept vomiting while drinking. By the end, I was so angry I wanted to go up and beat those two customers up.

Cui Lili skillfully tore open a packet of instant noodles, put the bag inside a bowl, and while tearing open the seasoning packet and pouring in boiling water, she sniffed the air.

"What's that smell? I smelled it when I was just going to sleep. Could it be that the sewer is backflowing again?"

The landlord keeps saying he'll fix it, but I've never actually done anything about it.

"I smell it too, a deathly odor. Maybe we should just find someone to fix it ourselves. I have a feeling that the landlord's eyes are looking at people strangely."

Ma Aiyuan fanned the air in front of her nose, then suddenly realized something:

"Hey? Did you talk to Song Mo today? This smell seems to be coming from her room—"

The two people who were eating instant noodles were startled at the same time.

Song Mo was a homebody and a third-rate writer. Not only did she have an irregular schedule, but she also always stayed up all night.

Out of concern for their impoverished comrade, the two men were always worried that she might die while writing.

This smell—could it be that Song Moga was in the house?

The two girls were both startled and frightened. They helped each other up and tried to knock on Song Mo's door.

"Song Mo! Song Mo! Are you...are you alright?"

"The end of the Song Dynasty? If you don't open the door, I'm calling the police!"

After knocking on the door for a long time without hearing any sound from inside, Cui Lili and Ma Aiyuan were on the verge of tears, their fingers almost touching the emergency phone—

With a creak, the door suddenly opened.

With her long hair disheveled and a dejected look on her face, Song Mo slowly opened the door, revealing half of the messy floor.

She yawned and replied lazily and slowly, "Oh, you're back."

Cui Lili and Ma Aiyuan breathed a sigh of relief, but then pinched their noses, took a step back, and craned their necks to look inside.

The faint stench had disappeared, as if it were just a momentary illusion.

The room looked messy, and the desk had been moved to face the window.

The bed frame had been turned upside down, and books were scattered haphazardly on the floor, leaving almost no room to step.

"Does your place smell a bit? Don't let the takeout go bad, or it'll attract rats and cockroaches, and that fat landlord will have another reason to come over and whine."

Cui Lili casually complained, then noticed the scattered bloodstains on the ground: "You're bleeding?"

She had no idea that just seconds before, the landlord's body lay on the floor just a wall away.

"Yeah, I stayed up all night working on the script yesterday and got a nosebleed. I wanted to change my mood this morning, so I rearranged the room. I'm still feeling a bit dizzy—"

At the end of the Song Dynasty, he simply leaned against the door and left the door open for the two people to see.

Seeing that she was alright, Ma Aiyuan breathed a small sigh of relief. Her eyes swept across the crack in the door, but she noticed a piece of red chewing gum that looked like it had hair stuck to it.

It's flat, but slightly curved, and has a large strand of hair stuck to it—

She hesitated, unsure whether she should advise her roommate to take care of her health.

With so much hair falling out, I'll go bald sooner or later.

Unexpectedly, Song Mo quickly bent down, picked up the "chewing gum," and held it in his hand, his tone inexplicably surprised:

"So this is where it is!"

The piece of the back of the original owner's head that was lost has finally been found.