Zhou Xing’er felt burning hot, as if roasted over a fire.
Dazedly fluttering her eyes open, she found herself surrounded by pitch-black darkness. An indescribable musty smell hung in the air, mingled with the faint scent of soap. Reaching out blindly, her hand brushed against something firm and icy cool.
It felt wonderful—like a giant block of ice radiating a soothing chill in the dead of summer. Unable to resist, Zhou Xing’er pressed her body against it, whimpering softly about the heat.
“Get off me.”
A low, icy, slightly raspy male voice cut through the darkness.
It sounded remarkably pleasant, reminiscent of ice cubes clinking together in winter—cold, yet sending a shiver of delight down one’s spine.
Her brain was completely scrambled by the feverish heat, and she was convinced she was dreaming. If this was just a dream, what did she have to fear? She had never even held a man’s hand in real life; in a dream, she was definitely going to get her hands on some perks, no matter what.
Far from letting go, she clambered right on top of him, wrapping her arms tightly around his solid, unyielding body.
Pressing her cheek against his chest, she mumbled softly in a sweet, wheedling tone, “Don’t move. Just let me hold onto you for a bit… just a little bit.”
The man’s breathing turned ragged and heavy in an instant. He reached out with a large hand, gripping her waist in a vice. His fingers were as hard as iron, digging in so tightly that it hurt.
“I told you to let go. Did you hear me?” His voice grew raspier, laced with an undercurrent of suppressed agony.
Zhou Xing’er had no intention of listening. Tilting her head up, though she couldn’t make out his features in the dark, she could sense his face right before hers.
Emboldened, she leaned in and pressed a kiss to his lips.
That single kiss ignited everything. His lips were cool and soft. Finding it amusing, Zhou Xing’er gave them a hard bite.
His body jerked violently, a muffled groan tearing from his throat. The next instant, her world spun, and she was pinned down firmly beneath him.
“You brought this on yourself,” he gritted out, his breath hot against her ear.
Then, a tempest of kisses crashed down upon her. There was nothing gentle about him; his actions were rough and unyielding, leaving her aching and sore.
She wanted to cry out, wanted to push him away, but his strength was terrifying. He pinned her wrists securely above her head.
The heat in the room climbed higher and higher, the bed slats groaning in a rhythmic, creaking chorus. Zhou Xing’er drifted in and out of the haze of this dream, feeling as if every bone in her body were falling apart. The pain brought tears to her eyes, yet beneath the torment pulsed a sensation she couldn’t quite put into words.
The torment lasted through the night, subsiding only as the first light of dawn broke.
…
The next morning, a shaft of sunlight filtered through a tear in the worn-out curtain, falling squarely across Zhou Xing’er’s face.
She fluttered her eyelids. A wave of soreness washed over her entire body, her waist and legs aching as if she had been run over repeatedly by a heavy truck.
Gasping, she snapped her eyes open.
This was not her studio apartment.
Above her was a whitewashed ceiling. The walls were plastered with old newspapers from the 1990s, and the red-painted wooden windows were shut tight.
Her heart dropped. Why haven’t I woken up from this dream yet?
Turning her head, she froze in absolute shock.
A man was lying beside her.
With his back to the morning sun, his eyes were closed in deep sleep.
He was strikingly handsome, with thick brows, a high-bridged nose, and thin lips pressed into a tight line. Even in slumber, an aura of icy, unapproachable aloofness clung to his features. He had broad shoulders, and the quilt only covered him to the waist, revealing a bare back marked by dried sweat and several angry red scratches.
Zhou Xing’er took a sharp breath. Why did those scratches look so familiar?
She looked down at herself—and nearly jumped out of her skin. She wasn’t wearing a single stitch of clothing. Her skin was covered in red marks, and on the sheet beneath her lay several glaring droplets of blood.
This wasn’t a dream.
This was real!!
Just as she was about to scream in terror, a sharp, splitting headache struck her. Countless memories that didn’t belong to her rushed into her mind like a tidal wave.
Zhou Xing’er, twenty years old, a village girl whose family was dirt-poor. Yet she was stunningly beautiful, blessed with a pair of peach-blossom eyes that seemed to hook right into people’s souls. Blessed with a voluptuous, shapely figure, she never lacked suitors.
And the man she had just slept with was named Fu Yusheng, twenty-five years old. On the surface, he was a wealthy businessman from the big city, owning large factories with vast wealth and influence.
The original Zhou Xing’er was a vain girl whose sole ambition was to marry into the city and live a life of luxury. Having caught wind that Fu Yusheng was staying at this guesthouse, she had spent all her hard-earned savings to buy an illicit drug on the black market and bribed someone to slip it into his tea.
Then, once the drug took hold, she snuck into his room to cook the raw rice into porridge.
To keep herself from getting cold feet, she had even taken a little of the drug herself.
According to the original novel’s plot, the original host fled into the night right after sleeping with Fu Yusheng.
She knew very well that he was cold and ruthless. If she had stayed to demand he take responsibility, he would have dragged her straight to the police station, and any subsequent pregnancy would have been terminated by force.
Her plan had been to run away while pregnant, give birth to the child, and then carry the baby right to the Fu family’s doorstep.
The Fus were a prominent, prestigious family. To protect their reputation and their heir, they would have no choice but to grit their teeth and force Fu Yusheng to marry her.
The original host had been completely confident that she would conceive in a single try, all thanks to an inherited trait of hyper-fertility that ran in her family!
Her mother had gotten pregnant on her wedding night after just one try, and her grandmother had been the exact same way.
However, once she married into the Fu family, she had shown zero restraint. She threw tantrums daily, abused the household staff, squandered money recklessly, and complained about Fu Yusheng’s cold demeanor. In the end, pushed past his limit, Fu Yusheng divorced her. Stripped of the Fu family’s protection, she was scammed out of every last penny by local thugs, ultimately dying a miserable death in a foul, stinking drainage ditch.
It was only after the original host’s death that the novel’s true female lead finally appeared: a highborn young lady from an equally distinguished family who entered into a business marriage with Fu Yusheng. The two treated each other with mutual respect and lived a happy life together.
As for the child she bore, growing up without a mother twisted his personality into something bizarre and brooding. He grew up to be nothing more than a pathetic foil to the true female lead’s children, living his entire life in the shadows before meeting a tragic end himself.
Sitting on the bed, Zhou Xing’er went completely numb.
Her sky had fallen.
How in the world had she transmigrated into such a self-destructive, cannon-fodder supporting character?
No way. She absolutely could not walk down the original host’s path! She would not have a child, she would not set foot in the Fu household, and she sure as hell wouldn’t die in a stinking ditch!
Looking at the soundly sleeping Fu Yusheng beside her, she trembled from head to toe. He might look peaceful now, but once he woke up and realized he had been played, he would strangle her without a second thought.
She had to run. She needed to get out of here right now.
Gritting her teeth and bearing the agonizing soreness throughout her body, Zhou Xing’er cautiously lifted the quilt.
Her clothes were strewn across the floor in a chaotic heap.
She crept out of bed. The moment her feet touched the ground, her knees buckled, nearly sending her crashing down. She quickly steadied herself against the table, not daring to let out so much as a breath, and cast a terrified glance back at Fu Yusheng.