Su Zhu had never imagined that the concept of “transmigrating into a book” would one day happen to her.
Even less did she expect that right at the start of her transmigration, she would be hit with a situation far more devastating, aggrieved, and stimulating than what she had seen most others experience.
Yes, she had transmigrated into a 𝑦𝑢𝑟𝑖 novel featuring a powerful, badass female protagonist.
The heroine of this book was Song Yuran, a mad beauty voted by readers into the top three “crazy, unhinged” characters of the year.
As for the identity she had transmigrated into, she was the ultimate cannon fodder who had defiled this mad beauty and was now barreling down a path of self-destruction with no intention of turning back.
The sole purpose of her character’s existence was to push Song Yuran deeper into madness, using her subsequent breakdown to highlight Song Yuran’s ruthless and vicious methods.
In the original story, when the original host’s romantic pursuits of Song Yuran were rejected, she resorted to the most despicable means to forcibly violate Song Yuran. Not only that, but she also seized the opportunity to take nude photographs of Song Yuran and used them to threaten Song Yuran into staying with her.
Naturally, with the original host acting so suicidal, the ending did not disappoint the readers.
Unable to bear the overwhelming pressure, Song Yuran finally underwent a complete dark awakening.
Using methods that could only be described as cruel, she relentlessly tortured Su Zhu, ultimately driving her to a state where death would be a relief, yet living was agonizing. As for the final ending, Su Zhu was tortured to the point of complete mental derangement and suffered a tragic death.
Just thinking about the cruelty of those methods made Su Zhu shudder involuntarily.
Based on the original text’s implication, even the Ten Tortures of the Qing Dynasty probably would not compare to this level of torment.
And now, the person who was most likely to face a future where death was preferable to life had become her.
Furthermore, the exact plot point she had transmigrated into was one of catastrophic proportions: the original host had already drugged Song Yuran, with only the final step left uncompleted.
Realizing what her future held, Su Zhu could not help but swallow hard.
She looked at Song Yuran beside her, who was slightly frowning, her body burning hot from the effects of the drug, and a light sweat beading on her forehead.
What should she do?
Su Zhu remained frozen in place for a moment; she did not have much time to process current events.
In her present predicament, the only solution she could think of was to run!
Take flight before Song Yuran woke up and while she was still incoherent.
With no incriminating evidence left behind and none of the subsequent actions carried out, perhaps she could carve out a sliver of survival if she played her cards right.
By the time these thoughts flashed through her mind, a thin layer of cold sweat was already beading on Su Zhu’s forehead.
She inched backward cautiously, putting some distance between herself and the incapacitated Song Yuran, then tiptoed out of bed.
As long as she made it out of this room, she would be temporarily safe.
The exact moment her right foot stepped past the edge of the mattress and was about to leave, a voice rang out, as intoxicating and alluring as fine red wine, yet carrying the languid, half-awake laziness of someone rousing from sleep.
“Did you drug me?”
Su Zhu’s body stiffened abruptly. A chill surged straight from the soles of her feet to the crown of her head, leaving her completely paralyzed.
She turned her head with a slight tremor, and the next instant, she fell into a pair of eyes so deep and breathtakingly gorgeous that they seemed to hold a midnight starry sky, utterly mesmerizing.
Song Yuran lowered her head slightly, sitting up with her arms propping her body.
Her long hair draped over her chest, slightly disheveled, which only added to her allure. This face, universally recognized by beauty judges as the most stunning in the world, was suddenly magnified right before her eyes, breathtaking enough to make one’s breathing halt.
Su Zhu even forgot that her primary objective at the moment was to escape; she was simply stunned into stillness by the visual impact of that face.
It wasn’t until Song Yuran swayed slightly due to the physical discomfort caused by the drug that Su Zhu snapped back to reality.
“Um, listen to me, no, it wasn’t me,” Su Zhu stammered frantically. “It might sound completely unbelievable, but I really am not the original person anymore. Soul, you understand souls, right? My soul was swapped, so I know you are probably feeling very uncomfortable right now, but let us calm down first.”
Under her intense nervousness, Su Zhu felt like her words were completely jumbled and out of her mind.
Song Yuran simply looked quietly at Su Zhu. Her ink-dark gaze held not a trace of fluctuation as she surveyed her. If not for her slightly heaving chest and breathing that was much faster than usual, one would never have guessed that her body was currently being tormented by drugs.
She felt empty and famished inside, mixed with the irritation and anger of having been set up, urgently needing an outlet to vent.
She did not process a single word of what Su Zhu was saying.
All she saw was Su Zhu’s panicked, frantic appearance. That face bore a vague, faint familiarity, she must have seen it somewhere before, but when, and what had happened, she could not remember at all.
“Not you? Then who was it?” Song Yuran lowered her gaze and chuckled softly.
Normally, a murmurous laugh like that would make one’s heart itch with desire, but right now, Su Zhu felt the other half of her body turn icy cold.
Rather than sounding friendly, the voice felt more like someone observing an ant being toyed with in the palm of their hand.
For a moment, Su Zhu completely lost her ability to judge, unsure whether she should run or stay and continue apologizing and explaining.
Song Yuran reached out a hand toward her.
Su Zhu froze, her gaze following the movement down. Just like her face, this hand was flawless, fair, slender, graceful, and full of definition.
Wait, what was the purpose of this gesture? Was she trying to pull her down out of bed?
That was the only way Su Zhu could interpret it. Hesitantly, she cautiously stepped forward and took hold of Song Yuran’s hand.
As a result, before she could even help pull Song Yuran up, she felt Song Yuran suddenly exert force, tugging her arm and causing her to tumble face-first onto the bed.
Because Su Zhu was completely unprepared, the fall was very solid.
She originally wanted to scramble right back up, but Song Yuran applied slight pressure, restricting her movement and preventing her from getting up.
Not daring to struggle too hard and hoping that Song Yuran was not crazy enough to kill her on the spot, Su Zhu tried to soften the atmosphere as much as possible, putting on a smile and speaking in a submissive, ingratiating tone, “I swear it absolutely wasn’t me. Even if you gave me ten guts, I wouldn’t dare do something like this. If there’s something to discuss, why don’t we sit down and explain things slowly?”
Song Yuran did not respond to Su Zhu’s suggestion of sitting down to explain slowly. One of her hands remained locked around Su Zhu’s wrist just as before, while her other hand turned Su Zhu’s face toward her.
Her fingers brushed across Su Zhu’s face, the light, tickling friction sending goosebumps all over Su Zhu’s body.
The quiet gentleness Song Yuran displayed in this environment felt far more terrifying than if she had just slapped her outright.
She could not guess even a fraction of what Song Yuran wanted to do next.
Song Yuran looked at Su Zhu’s face, initially intending to recall whether this person had any connection to her. But by the end of her recollection, she only felt that this person was probably just a passing acquaintance, like a colleague seen in passing at work.
An oval face, round eyes, and a slightly upturned nose.
A completely harmless-looking face, very delicate and very pretty.
She pinched Su Zhu’s chin, lifting it slightly, and clearly saw the panic and anxiety shining in Su Zhu’s eyes.
“You’re so pretty. If you really wanted to do it with me and asked, I might have just agreed. Why use drugs? Hm?” Song Yuran’s voice remained gentle.
Su Zhu was stunned by this remark and the content of the words, her eyes widening slightly.
Wait, what does that mean? The implications hidden in these words are a bit heavy.
Su Zhu was genuinely shocked, but it lasted only for a fraction of a second before she snapped back to reality, regardless of what information was packed into that statement, her top priority right now was to clear things up and prove this had nothing to do with her!
“You have to believe me, I really didn’t do it,” Su Zhu tried her absolute best to squeeze out a smile, but because she was terrified inside, the smile looked as though she were about to cry.
“Really?” Song Yuran asked.
Seeing a glimmer of hope, Su Zhu nodded repeatedly.
Song Yuran leaned down slightly, her long hair cascading and brushing against Su Zhu’s neck like silk. Su Zhu felt a tickling sensation.
Song Yuran pressed almost directly against Su Zhu’s ear, her movements and tone carrying the intimate ambiguity of a lover’s whisper.
“So what you’re saying is, someone framed both of us, drugged me, threw you into my room, and not only that, they also controlled your hands to undo my clothes, is that right?”
Song Yuran said this with a smile.
As for Su Zhu, her heart felt as though it had momentarily stopped beating. Her heart sank as she realized that Song Yuran likely hadn’t believed a single word she said from beginning to end.
Hearing that smiling voice only made the hairs on Su Zhu’s body stand on end.
She could not say a word; the only thing out of her control was the cold sweat streaming down her forehead.
For the first time since transmigrating, she even began to doubt whether she would make it out of this room alive today.
Then again.
If she was going to bite the dust immediately anyway, a quick end would be nice.
As long as it wasn’t the agonizing, worse-than-death torment described in the book, she would take it.
Su Zhu closed her eyes, stretched out her legs, and directly resigned herself to fate.
“What? Done explaining?” Song Yuran asked.
Su Zhu continued playing dead.
“You drugged me, but you don’t dare take the next step?” Song Yuran’s somewhat chilly fingers caressed Su Zhu’s neck.
The action looked gentle, but it was also extremely convenient for snapping a neck in one swift motion. Naturally, if Song Yuran were to do that right now, she would not be surprised in the least.
Song Yuran gently pinched and rubbed Su Zhu’s ear, “Since you want to be intimate so badly, then, as you wish.”
Three hours passed.
By the end, Su Zhu was in a daze, her mind completely detached.
Compared to her voice, Song Yuran’s actions held no gentleness or care whatsoever. Those three hours were entirely Song Yuran’s unilateral venting and retaliation.
Venting her inner irritation, and retaliating against Su Zhu by wanting to watch her lose control and regret her actions.
True to her wish, Su Zhu felt as though her body no longer belonged to her. Her voice was hoarse, her tears had dried up, and her physical strength had been thoroughly drained away by Song Yuran’s movements.
When it finally ended for the last time, Song Yuran pulled her hand back and stood up.
Su Zhu did not even have the energy to glance at Song Yuran; she simply rolled over and fell deeply asleep.
Expressionless, Song Yuran got up from the bed, cast a glance at Su Zhu with a totally neutral expression, and walked into the bathroom.
First, she meticulously washed her hands, ensuring no trace of anyone else lingered on her skin.
Then she turned on the shower, letting the cold water pour down over her body to suppress the residual effects of the drug.
The cold water beat against her, streaming down her perfect body curves. She lowered her head slightly, letting the cold water strip away her body’s heat bit by bit, washing away the surging emptiness and desire within her.
Just standing there, she looked like an artwork personally sculpted by Nüwa, not just her face, but even her physique could be called the peak representation of Nüwa’s craftsmanship.
Under the onslaught of the icy water, the heat in Song Yuran’s body was almost entirely drained away, leaving her freezing cold.
Yet apart from a slight frown, Song Yuran showed no other reaction.
As though the piercingly cold water were not beating down on her at all.
And as though she held an extreme apathy toward her own body.
The cold water blasted over her for a full ten minutes until not a shred of warmth remained on her skin, and the drug’s effects finally vanished completely.
She picked up a bathrobe, wrapped it around herself, and stepped out of the bathroom.
The very instant she stepped out, Song Yuran’s peripheral vision caught sight of a faint red light flashing occasionally, hidden inside the decoration behind a vase.
Song Yuran’s gaze darkened abruptly, bottomless and profound.