Shen Zhi was suffocated awake by an excessively soft sensation.
She opened her eyes.
Above her was not the moldy ceiling of her rental apartment, nor was it that broken lamp that still flickered despite being repaired three times.
Instead, an entire expanse of a crystal chandelier, so luxurious it was reflective, hung overhead.
The bed was huge.
So huge she suspected she hadn’t gone to sleep last night, but had been dumped into the banquet hall of some five-star hotel.
The blanket was soft.
So soft it didn’t feel like a blanket, but rather a trap woven for her by capitalism.
Shen Zhi blinked stiffly.
Three seconds later, she sat bolt upright.
“What the fuck?”
The voice was clear, unfamiliar, and carried a hint of delicate coyness.
Shen Zhi looked down at her hands.
Fair.
Slender.
Her fingernails were manicured into rounded, pretty shapes, and a dainty diamond bracelet adorned her wrist.
At first glance, these were definitely not the corporate slave paws she was used to—the ones that constantly pounded on keyboards, were bruised by plastic takeout bag handles, and sprouted hangnails in the winter.
She slowly turned her head.
Neatly arranged on the nightstand was a row of black cards.
Yes.
A row.
Not just one.
Next to them sat open jewelry boxes.
A diamond necklace, emerald drop earrings, a ruby brooch—glittering so brightly that her eyes hurt.
Shen Zhi fell silent.
Then, she reached out, picked up a black card, and turned it over to inspect it.
A real card.
She picked up a necklace and brought it closer for a look.
Real diamonds.
She took a deep breath.
“Very good.”
“Although I don’t know what just happened, broke as I am, I’ve decided to show some respect to this starting hand.”
The next second, a sharp pang pierced her head.
Countless unfamiliar images slammed into her mind with a clatter, like a frozen PowerPoint presentation that had suddenly finished loading all at once.
Shen Family Estate.
Top-tier wealthy family.
Fake daughter of a wealthy family.
Shen Zhi.
The real daughter of a wealthy family, Shen Qingli.
Lu Jingheng, heir of the Lu Group.
Real and fake daughters.
Angst novel.
Jumping off a building.
Shen Zhi’s vision went black; she nearly collapsed back onto the bed on the spot.
No way.
No fucking way.
She had worked overtime until two in the morning last night. On her way home, to keep herself awake, she had casually opened a melodramatic angst novel about high society.
She even remembered the title.
Qingli Falls into His Embrace.
Man, it was so cliché it felt almost refreshing.
She had read and cursed at it simultaneously back then.
The female lead, Shen Qingli, was the real daughter of a wealthy family. Stranded outside since childhood, she had suffered all kinds of grievances before being brought back by the Shen family at eighteen.
The fake daughter of a wealthy family, Shen Zhi, had been pampered and spoiled by the Shen family, growing up arrogant and overbearing. Jealous of the real daughter, she acted up like a madwoman.
The male lead, Lu Jingheng, heir of the Lu Group, was aloof, noble, and the standard overbearing CEO package.
In the original book, Lu Jingheng fell in love with Shen Qingli at first sight.
To vent Shen Qingli’s frustrations, he slapped the fake daughter’s face all the way through, crushed the Shen family, and ultimately sent everyone who had ever harmed Shen Qingli off to get their bento boxes.
When Shen Zhi had read up to that point, she even left an impassioned three-hundred-word comment.
The gist was: Male Lead, if you’re sick, go get treated. Don’t use an entire wealthy family as fuel for your melodramatic romance.
Then her vision had gone dark.
When she woke up again, she was here.
Shen Zhi slowly turned her head and looked toward the full-length mirror across the room.
In the mirror was a face that was almost excessively gorgeous.
Jet-black hair, porcelain skin, slightly upturned eyes, and naturally crimson lips.
Even though she had just woken up and her hair was a mess, she was still so stunning she looked like she had been cropped right out of a luxury brand advertisement.
Great.
Same first and last name.
Shen Zhi.
The vicious fake daughter Shen Zhi from the original book.
Shen Zhi stared at herself in the mirror, falling completely silent for a full ten seconds.
Then, she slowly raised her hand and pinched her thigh hard.
“Hiss—”
It hurt.
It wasn’t a dream.
She had really transmigrated into a book.
And she had transmigrated as a vicious female supporting character who started with immense wealth, courted death along the way, and met a gruesome end.
Shen Zhi pressed her temples, trying to scrape some useful information from the original host’s memories.
The Shen family was a domestic top-tier wealthy family.
The father, Shen Chongshan, was the chairman of the Shen Group.
The mother, Wen Ruolan, was a high-society matriarch.
The eldest brother, Shen Wang, was the current CEO of the Shen Group, a cold-faced workaholic.
The second brother, Shen Tinglan, was an entertainment industry A-list star whose fans could form a line stretching from the South Pole to the North Pole.
The third brother, Shen Chi, was a genius racer with a temper more explosive than an engine.
And the original Shen Zhi was the fake daughter who had been switched at birth eighteen years ago and brought into the Shen family.
Pampered.
Favored.
Spoiled beyond all reason.
Until the real daughter, Shen Qingli, was found.
The original host went completely mad.
Believing Shen Qingli had stolen everything from her, she embarked on hundreds of chapters’ worth of flamboyant death-seeking stunts.
Framing her.
Throwing dirty water on her.
Feigning illness.
Smashing things.
Hiring internet water armies.
She had even attempted to seduce Shen Qingli’s destined partner, Lu Jingheng.
At this thought, Shen Zhi’s face turned green.
“Girl, you really had no standards, did you?”
A man like Lu Jingheng—what was the point of him being handsome?
A frigid, overbearing CEO overflowing with possessiveness, who would bankrupt someone’s company the moment he got angry.
Dating him was worse than filing for labor arbitration.
At least the latter paid compensation.
What was even more ridiculous was that it was bad enough the original host courted death, but she also wasn’t very smart.
Every time she framed Shen Qingli, she was caught red-handed with pinpoint accuracy.
Every time she made excuses, Lu Jingheng slapped her face with hard evidence.
Every time she tried to turn the tables, she only fell harder.
In the end, Shen Qingli became the little white flower that the entire internet pitied.
Lu Jingheng became the devoted, overbearing CEO avenging his love.
Shen Zhi became the despised, vicious fake daughter everyone wanted to hit.
She was kicked out of the house by the Shen family.
Doxxed by marketing accounts.
Hurled with abuse by netizens.
Trampled into the dirt by her former so-called friends.
The live-stream comment section was flooded with barrage messages telling her to die.
Finally, on a rainy night, she stood on the rooftop of a skyscraper.
Her phone screen was still lit up.
Top trending search #1: #Did Shen Zhi Apologize#
Top trending search #2: #Vicious Fake Daughter Get Out of High Society#
Top trending search #3: #Shen Qingli Don’t Be Afraid We Will Protect You#
And then, she jumped.
Twenty years old.
Blood splattered everywhere.
A chill ran down Shen Zhi’s spine.
She whipped off the blanket and got out of bed, stepping barefoot onto the plush carpet and pacing back and forth in the room.
“No.”
“Absolutely not.”
“I was a beast of burden in my last life. In this life, I finally get to start out rich—how could I die for the sake of the plot?”
For others who transmigrated into a book, their first reaction might be to defy fate, conquer the male lead, beat up the female lead, kick the villain, and reach the pinnacle of life.
Shen Zhi was different.
She only wanted to ask one thing:
What’s the bank card PIN?
Why follow the plot when you have money?
Why fight over a man when you have black cards?
Why engage in female rivalry when you have jewelry?
Were they out of their minds?
Was a sea-view villa not big enough, or was a private jet not fast enough?
Shen Zhi rushed to the nightstand and grabbed the phone.
Facial recognition.
With a ding, it unlocked successfully.
She quickly opened the banking app.
A long string of zeros followed the balance.
Shen Zhi counted it three times.
By the end of her count, her entire soul felt at peace.
Good.
Very good.
This was no longer just an account balance.
This was her miracle cure for mental illness.
She browsed through the assets under her name.
Apartments.
Storefronts.
Funds.
Jewelry.
And the pocket money the Shen family wired every month.
Shen Zhi clutched her chest as she scrolled.
“Original host, oh original host, how could you be so foolish?”
“With conditions like these, why on earth did you fight for affection with the real daughter?”
“Wouldn’t it be heavenly to take the money and run, travel the world, buy an island to retire on, and hire ten male models to dance for you?”
The more Shen Zhi thought about it, the more disappointed she felt in the original host.
Scolding aside, saving her own life came first.
She immediately opened the Notes app and created a new document.
Title—
Shen Zhi’s Survival Plan 1.0
Rule 1: Don’t fight for affection.
If the real daughter comes back, so be it.
She’s the biological daughter of the Shen family—fair, square, and welcome home.
As the fake daughter, she would never speak with passive-aggressive sarcasm, never use green tea talk, and never act as the wealthy family’s troublemaker.
Rule 2: Don’t snatch the man.
Who is Lu Jingheng?
Don’t know him.
Not familiar.
Take a three-hundred-meter detour whenever they cross paths.
If she had to describe him, he was the female lead’s man, a scalding-hot potato, a walking bankruptcy notice.
Rule 3: Don’t act up.
Any framing plotline—stay far away.
Any catfight at a banquet—stay far away.
Any “I just wanted to explain things clearly to Sister” situation—stay far, far, far away.
Rule 4: Save money and run.
Before the real daughter fully returns and the plot officially kicks off, liquidate everything that can be legally and reasonably liquidated.
Don’t touch the real estate; that’s too conspicuous.
Keep some jewelry for emergencies.
Cash, gold, passport, and a backup residence must be arranged as soon as possible.
Shen Zhi stared at the note, feeling more energized the more she wrote.
She had even planned it out.
Once Shen Qingli returned, she would obediently step aside.
If the Shen family remembered old affections and gave her a sum of money, she would be immensely grateful.
If the Shen family turned hostile, she wouldn’t pester them either.
The world is so big—where couldn’t she live comfortably with money?
Worst-case scenario, she could go down south and open a boba shop.
Name it: “The Vicious Fake Daughter No Longer Wants to Try.”
Buy one, get one free.
Second cup half price.
Her biggest daily worry would be whether she cooked too many tapioca pearls or too few.
What a wonderful life.
The more Shen Zhi thought about it, the more touched she felt, nearly applauding herself.
Just as she was about to refine her escape route, a knock suddenly sounded at the door.
Knock, knock, knock.
Shen Zhi froze.
“Who is it?”
A gentle, middle-aged female voice sounded from outside.
“Miss, it’s me, Aunt Lin.”
Shen Zhi dug through the original host’s memories.
Aunt Lin, a maid at the Shen Family Estate who had taken care of the original host for many years. She had a gentle temperament and kept her mouth shut.
She breathed a sigh of relief.
“Come in.”
The door was pushed open.
Aunt Lin walked in holding a glass of warm water. Seeing that Shen Zhi was already out of bed, she was visibly surprised.
“Miss, you’re up quite early today.”
Shen Zhi instinctively flashed a professional customer-service smile.
“Yeah, I’m awake.”
Aunt Lin set the water on the table. Her gaze swept over the rummaged cards and jewelry on the nightstand, then shifted to the phone in Shen Zhi’s hand, but she asked no questions.
“Miss, have some water first.”
Shen Zhi took the glass and nodded obediently.
Did maids in wealthy families always have such great boundaries?
Love it, absolutely love it.
Aside from the lethal plotline, this place was practically the dream mansion of any corporate worker.
Seeing that she had drank the water, Aunt Lin gently reminded her:
“Miss, Sir, Madam, and the young masters are all downstairs waiting for you to have breakfast.”