Upon waking, even with two layers of the woven gold hundred children silk quilts covering her and three silver wire charcoal braziers still burning in the room, Mi Yao could feel the day was several degrees colder than the previous one.
Pushing open the carved porthole window, she found the morning mist thick and dense, the distant mountain ranges a stark white with hardly any green visible.
The river wind swept in like blades, prompting Mi Yao to quickly close the window. Wrapping herself tightly in the quilt, she lay back with closed eyes for a while before recovering.
“Sister, have you gone back to sleep?”
Yu Xiu, who slept in the adjacent side chamber, had risen early and finished her breakfast. Calculating the time Mi Yao usually woke, she heard movement by the door and brought hot water, only to find Mi Yao still lying down.
Mi Yao made a soft sound of acknowledgment, sitting up while holding the quilt. She waited for Yu Xiu to place the hot water infused with peony flower dew, chrysanthemums, and mulberry frost leaves before her, then drowsily opened her eyes to begin steaming her face.
Attending to Mi Yao’s washing and grooming required at least two people.
Shuang Hua, Mi Yao’s maid, held the shallow, wide apricot blossom parrot silver basin, while Yu Xiu retrieved the carved ivory comb from the hawksbill box. As she combed Mi Yao’s hair, she kept watch to ensure Mi Yao didn’t doze off and tumble into the warm water.
“Sister, your hair has truly grown more beautiful with care.”
Every time Yu Xiu combed Mi Yao’s hair, she couldn’t help but marvel.
In her memory, half a year ago, Mi Yao’s hair, though darker and glossier than that of ordinary women, was not particularly thick. She often had to wear a hairpiece to support the gold hairpin. But now, without the need for gold, silver, or jewels to enhance its shine, Mi Yao’s raven locks flowed as softly and elegantly as a celestial scarf.
When Mi Yao first began nurturing her hair, Yu Xiu saw it merely as another opportunity to please her and serve by her side. Yet, under meticulous care, her hair had truly transformed beyond its former state.
Beyond her silk-like black tresses, the other changes in Mi Yao over the past six months had broadened Yu Xiu’s horizons.
Mi Yao had earned the title of the foremost beauty of Jiangnan at just fourteen. Her appearance was naturally distinct from ordinary women—innately graceful and radiant, with a serene elegance. But who would have thought that a peony, beautiful since childhood, could bloom with even more resplendent brilliance?
Previously, Mi Yao’s love for beauty was confined to jewels and attire. She spent more time studying the zither, chess, calligraphy, and painting, striving to be recognized as peerless in both talent and looks at various social gatherings.
However, since her engagement was settled half a year ago, Mi Yao had changed considerably. She no longer appeared at flower parties or banquets, spending much more time in her chambers, aside from tending to her delicate features.
By now, the silver basin for steaming her face had been taken away. Shi Ya dipped a soft silk handkerchief into a decoction of sandalwood, Centella asiatica, and bergamot, wrung it out, and began applying it to Mi Yao’s eyes.
After several alternations of warm and cool compresses, Mi Yao’s beautiful eyes—with lashes thick as tiny umbrellas—fully opened. She slowly sipped her morning tea, brewed from a blend of medicinal herbs and floral ingredients.
Meanwhile, Shuang Hua brought forth the tricolor glazed porcelain fish tank.
Mi Yao’s gaze fell into it, her eyes following the nimble movements of the small fish swimming within.
The steam from the hot water rose like ethereal immortal mist, and Mi Yao, with her jade-like skin glowing as if touched by flowing clouds, resembled a fairy from Penglai amidst the haze.
Over the past six months, Mi Yao’s facial features had not changed significantly— her deer-like almond eyes, exquisite nose, and vermilion lips remained the same.
Yet, she seemed different.
Yu Xiu struggled to describe it. Perhaps it was that before, she was merely ethereal like an immortal, but now, with the same face, she carried an otherworldly aura, as if she had become a true goddess of sublime beauty and elegance.
“If I possessed even a fraction of Sister’s beauty, I might catch Brother-in-Law’s attention twice over.”
Mi Yao disliked styling her hair in intricate updos that strained the strands. With a simple Fallen Horse Bun adorned with the auspicious cloud lotus gold filigree jade hairpin, she shifted her feet and began dressing.
Hearing Yu Xiu’s words and noticing the longing and anticipation on the girl’s youthful face, Mi Yao unconsciously paused her movements.
It had been half a year since she transmigrated into this book. She had accepted her new identity and frankly enjoyed the class elevation it brought her.
Yet hearing a thirteen-year-old girl eagerly hoping to win the favor of her future brother-in-law still struck her as utterly bizarre.
Yu Xiu was the original host’s half-sister. Unlike the original host, who was born to the legal wife, Yu Xiu’s mother had been a maid serving the original host’s mother.
The original host’s father wasn’t particularly capable, but his seed-spreading abilities were second to none.
Besides having one full brother, the original host had over ten half-siblings.
Even though the Yu family was an esteemed clan, having too many children still diminished their individual value. This resulted in some motherless girls in the Yu household living worse off than favored maidservants.
Thus, once Yu Xiu reached the age of running and jumping, she began trailing behind the original host. Though nominally a half-sister, she was practically equivalent to the original host’s chief maid.
Not that Yu Xiu minded—she seemed perfectly content with this arrangement.
Even when the original host was to marry far away to Shu, Yu Xiu shouldn’t have followed. But she knelt before the Yu family head, pleading to become a concubine-attendant, and thus boarded the ship with Mi Yao.
Mi Yao pondered Yu Xiu’s future as written in the book: there would be no affection from the brother-in-law. The male lead found her too young—not only did he never touch her, but he also humiliated her when she repeatedly tried to approach and curry favor.
Failing to win the male lead’s favor, Yu Xiu naturally clung tighter to the original host, continuing to serve as her obedient lackey.
The book didn’t specify Yu Xiu’s ultimate fate, but given the original host’s tragic death, hers likely wasn’t much better.
The Overlord was a male-oriented power fantasy novel. As the male lead’s widowed first wife, the original host’s life before marrying him had been tolerable.
Renowned for her exceptional beauty, the original host had been promoted by her family since age thirteen or fourteen, building a reputation as the “Number One Beauty of Jiangnan.”
But the true intentions behind aristocratic families exaggerating and elevating their female members’ looks were glaringly obvious.
The Yu family head originally planned to offer the original host as a successive wife to the Huainan military commissioner. However, the Prince of Jiangning happened to catch a glimpse of her at a flower banquet and became captivated.
The two powerful factions were at odds, yet both desired the original host. Her marriage prospects were delayed from age fourteen to seventeen.
Until six months ago, when Xiao Chu, the adopted son of the Jiannan military commissioner, distinguished himself in suppressing a rebellion. During a banquet, someone mentioned he remained unmarried and asked which noble daughter caught his eye. He jokingly replied that lineage didn’t matter—he only wanted a beauty so stunning she made others forget worldly cares upon seeing her.
The moment he finished speaking, someone brought her up.
Not long after the banquet, Xiao Chu proposed to the Yu family. The Yu family head looked down on Xiao Chu’s status as an adopted son, but pressured by the Jiannan military commissioner’s rising influence—and aware that keeping the original host unmarried would inevitably offend either the Huainan commissioner or the Prince of Jiangning—he reluctantly agreed to the marriage.
But the original host was already deeply in love with her cousin, who lived in the estate. Upon learning her marriage was settled, she conspired with him to elope, intending for Yu Xiu to take her place in the wedding.
Unfortunately, Xiao Chu refused to accept a substitute bride. When the Yu family failed to produce the original host, he personally led the Jiannan army to find her.
After being captured, the original host harbored intense hatred for Xiao Chu. Taking advantage of his busy military campaigns and constant warfare, she tortured and killed two of his children. By the time Xiao Chu discovered this, only his eldest son—barely clinging to life—remained out of three children.
Xiao Chu loathed the original host to the bone, unwilling to let her off with a simple death.
After imprisoning the original host in a water dungeon teeming with aquatic insects, he personally skinned and dismembered her, delivering the final blow only when she was barely breathing—ultimately having her drawn and quartered.
Recalling the original host’s brutal torture, Mi Yao couldn’t help but grit her teeth. Though the original host’s actions were despicable, Xiao Chu was undoubtedly a sadist.
She had come across the novel The Overlord because she was a screenwriter. After a film company acquired the adaptation rights, they felt the male lead lacked romantic chemistry and asked her to add an official female lead to the script.
Reading about the male lead’s cruelty toward his ex-wife, the author’s vivid descriptions of her suffering, and the male lead’s exhilarated reactions, Mi Yao concluded it was natural for such a character to remain single. A man like that didn’t deserve a love interest.
Little did she expect that shortly after forming this opinion, as she opened a document and typed a few words, a sharp pain struck her heart. The next thing she knew, she had awakened in this world.
Working late into the night was routine in her line of work. Her heart had often ached before, and under stress, the nerves on the left side of her face would twitch uncontrollably.
Fearing sudden death, she had planned to undergo a thorough medical checkup once her current project wrapped up.
But as one job ended, another began immediately. With no break in her workload, she could only “prioritize health” by cutting back on coffee.
Yet, in the end, she still met her demise from overwork.
Reflecting on her death at her desk, she spent nearly a month lying in bed after transmigrating into the book.
Her days consisted of sleeping, eating, and zoning out. One day, unable to bear her own stench any longer, she took a bath. Seeing her flawless jade-like skin and the stunning, dewy-faced beauty in the mirror, a flicker of motivation finally ignited.
Beyond basic survival, she began investing time and effort into maintaining her new body.
Aside from sharing the same name, the original host’s features were seventy to eighty percent similar to hers—like a refined version of herself.
Moreover, the original host possessed exquisite, delicate beauty, clearly that of a sixteen or seventeen-year-old girl. In contrast, her own face, ravaged by endless overtime, had become bloated and rough. By her twenties, she already had eye bags, tear troughs, and nasolabial folds deep enough for someone in their forties.
During her youth, she had reaped some benefits from her looks, but more often faced disparaging comments. Using skincare or makeup branded her as vain and frivolous; receiving any convenience was attributed to her face; a slight dip in grades meant she was all looks and no brains.
Looking back, she had been too young and cared too much about others’ opinions. To prove herself, she threw herself into work day and night during college and established her own studio a year after graduation.
To appear professional, she gradually molded herself into the image of a reliable screenwriter: lurking in dark corners, wearing thick black-rimmed glasses, pale-faced, constantly tapping away at her keyboard.
If asked whether those years of hard work yielded anything—yes, they did. She paid off her student loans, owned a luxury apartment downtown, and had employees who addressed her as “boss.”
But… it was exhausting.
Had she not died from overwork, she would have continued striving to become a top-tier screenwriter in the industry. But since she was already dead…
Rather than being a workhorse, she now only wanted to be a pampered, idle wife.
If the male lead wanted an obedient, beautiful trophy wife, she would be the perfect vase—even her toes exuding a clean floral scent. As for the rest… well, the original host had tortured the male lead’s child and met a tragic end, but that was her problem.
She came here on vacation to enjoy life, not to pursue true love like the original owner. As long as she could eat well, drink well, and lounge comfortably, she wouldn’t harbor any dislike toward her stepchildren—she’d even call them “babies” if needed.
Of course, the best scenario would be mutual peace: she wouldn’t interfere with or torment them, and they would keep their distance from her.
Let her quietly be a beautiful, exquisitely polished trophy wife who never needed to lift a finger or use her brain for anything big or small.