Wang Xiao was awakened by crying.
The sobbing was mournful, saturated with resentment and sorrow, drilling directly into her ears and agitating her mind. Subconsciously, she called out, “Grandma, water.”
But no one brought her water to drink, and there was no Grandma. Struggling to open her eyelids that felt glued together like paste, she only saw the haggard, puffy face of a middle-aged woman.
The woman wept while muttering curses under her breath: “You foolish girl, do you think you’re making me and your dad suffer out of spite? You’re ruining yourself! Is being a stepmother easy? You’re a pure, respectable young woman—not deaf, mute, blind, or lame. You’re a college graduate and a state cadre, yet you’re rushing to raise someone else’s burden? Have you lost your mind? You’re jumping straight into a pit of fire!”
Wang Xiao felt dizzy from the sudden barrage of scolding, suspecting she was in a dream.
Then she lifted her gaze to take in the room’s furnishings, and her eyelids could no longer stay glued shut.
Something was wrong. The overwhelming red decor of the “motherland’s landscape” was so tacky it made her scalp crawl. This cramped, stifling room wasn’t just smaller than her grandma’s three-story villa—it was even tinier than the storage room in her city apartment.
Most alarming was the reflection in the rustic full-length mirror on the wardrobe facing the bed. The face wasn’t the seductive, peach-blossom-eyed, oval-shaped visage of a natural temptress but rather the striking, refined features of a “sister circle” leader—with sharp eyebrows, large eyes, a tall nose bridge, and exquisite facial contours.
If this face weren’t attached to her own body, Wang Xiao would have whistled and screamed at the reflection: “Sis, I’m yours!”
But now, as she opened her mouth, her mind was consumed by three existential questions: Who am I? Where am I? What am I doing?
The moment these thoughts surfaced, a flood of blocky characters surged into her mind: Wang Xiao, female, born in 1969, from Jinning, college graduate, employed at the Chemical Industry Research Institute…
Before she could finish reading the rest, Wang Xiao jolted violently.
Wait, could it be? Was the “transmigration warning” actually happening to her?
Before a celebratory party for her seven-figure sales success in social commerce, she had been waiting for her stuck-in-traffic friends and idly scrolled through a Mary Sue novel pushed on her phone.
Good grief, it was a pretentious memoir of a Mary Sue female lead, saturated with the hypocritical, white-lotus flavor of “everyone loves me, and I’m so torn and helpless”—so thick it was suffocating.
She normally had no interest in such low-IQ fiction. But coincidentally, there was a female side character also named Wang Xiao, whose love-struck desperation was downright appalling.
This Wang Xiao pursued a romance disapproved by her entire family. At twenty-one, this innocent young woman threw tantrums and insisted on marrying the female lead’s ex-husband, eagerly becoming a stepmother to his child. The family she schemed to join consisted of an older man who was a Zhongshan wolf, skilled at psychological manipulation and exploiting others, and a younger one who was an ungrateful wretch, all talk no action and repaying kindness with betrayal. Later, when the white moonlight female lead returned, the family reunited. This Wang Xiao was squeezed dry of her last bit of usefulness and promptly kicked the bucket, making way by dying suddenly.
At the time, Wang Xiao couldn’t explain why she had subjected herself to this misery, insisting on seeing just how low the identically-named side character could sink.
As she read on, she felt not an ounce of sympathy for the female supporting character. Rolling her eyes, she muttered “Serves you right,” hastily closed the novel page, and then frantically jumped and danced at the party to wash away the discomfort that felt like being entangled by a venomous snake.
It turned out that workaholic entrepreneurs like her were inherently unsuited for leisure.
If she had obediently worked overtime to chase her second ten million, she wouldn’t have ended up like this—accidentally jumping into the swimming pool and transmigrating into the very fictional character she had just criticized.
The scene before her now seemed to be the tragic beginning of the saintly female supporting character, the moment just before her marriage to the Zhongshan wolf.
The woman by the bed was still crying and cursing: “You’ve lost your mind, unable to tell right from wrong. You’re truly insane…”
Wang Xiao felt her throat so dry it seemed to be smoking, and when she spoke, her words carried a scorching heat: “Alright, stop crying. I’m not marrying him.”
The middle-aged woman blurted out: “I’m crying today, but it’s you who’ll be crying for the rest of your life!… You… you’re not marrying?”
The woman, her eyes swollen like walnuts, looked up in shock and repeated incredulously, “You’re not marrying?”
Wang Xiao nodded and began taking off the bright red wedding dress.
In 1990, white wedding gowns probably weren’t in fashion yet, as the original host was wearing a Dragon and Phoenix wedding dress. The advantage of this attire was that she didn’t need anyone’s help to take it off swiftly and neatly.
As she undressed, she complained: “Only a lunatic would marry an old man with a ready-made family.”
This remark was a bit harsh. In reality, the man the original host was supposed to marry was only in his early thirties. If he were a celebrity, his fans would still call him a “baby,” and even the United Nations would classify him as part of the youth demographic.
But Wang’s Mother, of course, wouldn’t refute her daughter’s words. She was even more excited than if she had won the 500-yuan jackpot in the weekly welfare lottery and even forgot to scold her daughter with, “Who was the one acting crazy earlier?” Instead, she nodded vigorously: “Yes, yes, yes! You can marry anyone but him. His mother acts kind but is cruel at heart, his daughter is unreasonable and troublesome, and he’s nothing but a Chaiba dang who specializes in deceiving young girls!”
Everyone else could see it clearly. Unfortunately, the original host had been blinded, wearing rose-tinted glasses and stubbornly diving headfirst into the situation, ultimately ruining herself and infuriating the family who truly cared for her.
She pulled on a pair of jeans and changed into a corduroy jacket, casually tying her hair into a braid. She instructed the middle-aged woman: “Mom, cancel the wedding. Before the banquet starts, call it off quickly.”
With that, she opened the door to fetch herself some water. From the moment she woke up, her throat had been so dry it felt like spitting fire.
As soon as the door opened, a short, stout little figure tumbled inside, startling Wang Xiao into stepping back.
Before she could react, the “little stump” was already clinging to her leg, wailing loudly: “I don’t want you as my stepmother! Give me back my mom! You’re the evil queen, a big bad villain!”
Wang Xiao rolled her eyes so hard they nearly reached the back of her head: The queen as your stepmother?
You little brat, you sure know how to flatter yourself. Thinking you’re a princess, are you?
Well, for that, your father would have to be a king, not a phoenix man who lives off others while acting entitled.
Ugh! Calling him a phoenix man would be an insult to phoenix men—at least they rely on themselves to rise from the chicken coop. This one? He’s nothing but a Chaiba dang.
Wang Xiao had never liked children. Well-behaved, sensible, and cute kids she could barely tolerate for some playful interaction, but this snot-and-tear-smeared brat? Even without considering how shamelessly ungrateful the child might grow up to be, the sight alone made Wang Xiao want to vomit.
The “short dumpling” was still thrashing on the floor, wailing and howling, beating her chest and stomping her feet. Her piercing cries weren’t just ear-splitting—they could probably shake the entire building to its foundations.
Wang Xiao kept her distance, showing no intention of helping the child up.
Wang’s Mother was fuming. This was the family her daughter was supposed to marry into. As the saying goes, “The child is father of the man.” Just looking at this brat told you everything about what the adults in that household were like.
She quickly emphasized, “Jiaojiao, get up. No one’s going to be your stepmother.”
As she spoke, she tried to push her daughter out of the room, afraid the foolish girl might soften and rush to play the devoted caregiver again.
Unfortunately, this “short dumpling” named Jiaojiao had chosen to throw her tantrum right in the doorway, blocking any escape route. Hearing the adult’s words only made her wail even louder.
Wang Xiao felt the veins at her temples throbbing. She couldn’t help but shout, “Who wants to be your stepmother? Don’t you have a biological mother? Go find her!”
Her outburst left everyone in the room stunned.
Even the “short dumpling” rolling on the floor, who normally seemed incapable of understanding human speech, forgot her wailing and stared blankly with wide eyes.
Sister Xiaoxia was actually yelling at her? Sister Xiaoxia usually gave her everything she wanted, going to great lengths to satisfy her every whim.
In the sudden silence, an astonished voice filled with heartfelt concern came from the living room: “Wang Xiao, what’s wrong with you? Jiaojiao’s just a child who doesn’t know better. How can you yell at her? You need to influence children with love and patience. That’s how you build a good parent-child relationship and become a qualified mother.”
Wang’s Mother immediately showed her displeasure and retorted, “Zhang Yan, what nonsense are you talking? Our Wang Xiao has nothing to do with that family. Don’t speak without thinking.”
Wang Xiao had been wondering who this pretty young woman was—this fool who, despite being young and unmarried, acted with such paternalistic arrogance, meddling in other people’s business.
Hearing Wang’s Mother’s words, she suddenly understood.
Zhang Yan—another neurotic character from this absurd novel, the female lead’s self-proclaimed best friend whose life mission seemed to be ruining the original host.
Of course it made perfect sense for Zhang Yan to spout such ridiculous nonsense now. Without her relentless efforts to manipulate the original host, the poor girl wouldn’t have been constantly anxious about proving herself as a good stepmother, gradually forgetting she was first and foremost an independent person.
As for why Zhang Yan would sabotage the original host like this? Logically, it made sense.
Their parents worked at the same state-owned factory, but Zhang Yan’s parents always ranked lower professionally than the original host’s parents. The two girls were only months apart in age and had attended school together since childhood, which led the original host to believe they were close friends.
Little did she know, from the moment Zhang Yan could understand human speech, her parents had constantly urged her to compete with the original host. After finally getting into a technical secondary school through the high school entrance exam while the original host only made it to regular high school, she thought she had finally won—until the original host unexpectedly got into university. Even if it was just an ordinary local undergraduate program, in 1986, anyone who could enter university was an exceptionally rare talent. Thus, the original host once again outshone Zhang Yan.
If that were all, it might have been tolerable. After all, the original host graduated and joined a chemical research institute, while Zhang Yan became a teacher at a kindergarten in a state-owned factory. In those days, “those who make atomic bombs earn less than those who sell tea eggs; those who wield scalpels earn less than those who wield razors.” The benefits and treatment at state-owned factories far surpassed those at the chronically underfunded chemical research institute.
But as luck would have it, the Zhang Yan in the book also had feelings for the original host’s husband. Unwilling to jump into the fire herself by becoming a stepmother, she proactively tried to set her crush up with someone else. After pushing the original host into the pit, she inexplicably grew jealous, feeling that the other woman had stolen her man, and thus schemed repeatedly to trip her up.
In the novel, the original host had regretted her marriage twice and wanted to escape the mire, but she couldn’t bring herself to confide her troubles to her parents or teachers. When she turned to a close friend for help, Zhang Yan repeatedly manipulated the situation, convincing the original host that divorce would only make her life worse. In the end, she muddled through and ended her life trapped in the mud.
If we’re talking about the chief culprit behind the original host’s death, this Zhang Yan before her eyes may not have been the mastermind, but she was certainly an accomplice.
Wang Xiao narrowed her eyes slightly. Well, well. You refuse the path to heaven and insist on barging through the gates of hell.
Since you’ve eagerly delivered yourself to my doorstep, sister would be remiss not to strike—it’d be a shame to waste that face of yours, made up more delicately than a bride’s.
August 14th, Lunar Calendar
Year of the Rabbit, Guimao Year, Xinyou Month, Jichou Day
Auspicious: Marriage, travel, moving house, signing contracts, transactions, moving into a new home, opening a business, breaking ground, praying, planting, installing beds, raising livestock, funerals, hanging plaques, sacrifices, construction, demolition, encoffining, donning mourning clothes, removing from fire, removing mourning clothes, adopting children, consecration, praying for offspring
Inauspicious: None
A legendary auspicious day indeed. Time to start this story. I’m afraid if I don’t start now, I’ll end up mentally plotting out the entire novel and lose all motivation to write. After all, I’ve done that plenty of times before.
As per the old routine, three chapters for the opening. Daily updates will resume tomorrow, with new chapters at 7 a.m.