A mechanical electronic voice sounded by her ear, tinged with a hint of flattery: “Host, these points have already been doubled. I can’t give you any more.”
Yan Xia narrowed her eyes as she recalled yesterday’s experience, her expression twisting.
Just yesterday morning, she had gone to the library to borrow materials for the graduate school entrance exam. After returning to her dorm, she discovered that at some point, she had slipped a novel in among the materials.
When she got a little tired of studying, Yan Xia casually opened the book.
Who could have known that opening it would be a final farewell.
At first glance, she discovered that the protagonist’s name was exactly the same as her own.
That’s right, according to one of the Ten Great Laws of Lü Gougou”if you share a name with a character or protagonist in a book, you will transmigrate into that book”—she too had been unable to escape this calamity.
Careless! She failed to dodge!
This was a melodramatic yuri ABO novel, and the female protagonist’s life experience was frustrating to the absolute extreme.
The protagonist was a sickly, frail Omega. As the second child of the family, her personality was neither as steady and shrewd as the eldest’s, nor as sweet and charming as the youngest’s. Sandwiched between her accomplished sisters, she was unloved by both father and mother, suffering constant neglect.
Despite being born into a wealthy family, she was extremely insecure and timid, and her grades were terrible—universally despised.
As a result, the protagonist long endured bullying and ostracism from teachers and classmates, and all manner of cannon-fodder villains used her as a punching bag at will. It made Yan Xia’s fists clench so hard it nearly cured her low blood pressure.
You see, her personality was the complete opposite of the protagonist’s, and the fact that they shared the same name gave her an extra layer of immersion that others wouldn’t have. She simply could not accept this kind of plot development.
Yan Xia held back again and again, persuading herself to patiently keep reading. After all, logically speaking, since this doormat of a protagonist had such a miserable start, she would surely transform into a satisfying big-shot female lead later on, Golden Finger fully activated, returning to slap faces, right?
But! No!
Yan Xia would never forget that infuriating ending: after weathering countless storms, the protagonist finally got together with the Alpha she loved. On the very night before the two were to walk hand in hand into the halls of matrimony, the protagonist suddenly had a terminal illness flare up—and died.
Seeing this, Yan Xia thought the protagonist was finally about to start a rebirth-and-comeback script.
But the page number in the bottom corner and the thin stack of remaining pages reminded her—there was no satisfying Golden Finger power-up, no “the three-year deadline has arrived” face-slapping comeback, none of those tropes at all…
The protagonist was simply dead!
Dead inexplicably, in the strangest way.
From beginning to end, she never received her family’s genuine attention or respect, nor did she have a single friend worth confiding in or trusting. She descended into this world like a ghost, endured scorn and isolation with no one to rely on, and then one day, suddenly dispersed.
No one cared when her funeral was held.
Before she died, she had nothing at all besides her beloved.
The story cut off abruptly. Yan Xia stayed up all night finishing that ending, then stared with her panda eyes, lost in thought.
In the end, she reached a conclusion—this was just the author being unable to keep writing and forcibly slapping on a bad ending, wasn’t it?!
This was even more absurd than the stuff her roommate—who loved writing old-school angsty romance with tortured bodies and hearts and big-shot female leads—came up with!
As the morning sun rose slowly in the east, Yan Xia fell into a resentful sleep, feeling as if she wanted to tear the author limb from limb.
When she woke up, she found she had transmigrated into the book, becoming that same-named doormat of a female protagonist.
…And she hadn’t even differentiated into an Omega, but an Alpha!?
The System put it nicely: “This is our newbie welfare package for you, Host! The original body was weak and sickly—not suitable for carrying out all kinds of missions—so we adjusted your physical stats just a tiny bit!”
Yan Xia: ? Are you sure you’re not just forcibly raising the game difficulty for me? This is “a tiny bit”? It’s clearly a HUGE bit, isn’t it?!
If you asked how Yan Xia felt right now—regretful. She was extremely regretful.
If she’d known this would happen, she should have read the whole novel front to back and memorized it.
Yan Xia snapped back to her senses and rubbed her brow. “System, I remember you said Positive Points come from reader feedback?”
“That’s right,” the System answered dutifully. “As long as you win the readers’ approval, you’ll earn Positive Points.”
—Reversing the botched ending and shaping the heroine into a righteous, upstanding protagonist: that was her System mission after transmigrating into the book. Every increase in Positive Points meant the readers’ approval of the plot was rising.
“Fine. So how many points do I have now?”
The System said, “Currently 100 Positive Points, but combined with the newbie welfare gift package issued yesterday, you’ve saved up 1,600 points—enough for one card draw.”
Yan Xia thought for a moment. “Don’t draw yet. Let’s wait a bit longer.”
The System was very obedient: “Okay, Host! Call me anytime if you have questions!”
Yan Xia sighed inwardly and turned her attention back to the class, continuing to listen.
After the farce, Yan Xia’s performance hadn’t aroused much suspicion. Most people assumed she’d just gotten lucky and could do the problem, and thought no more of it.
The classroom sank back into its lifeless atmosphere. Zhang Ying, perhaps feeling awkward, didn’t call on anyone else to answer questions.
Math was the last class of the morning. When the bell rang, Zhang Ying gathered her lesson plans and left the classroom right on time. The drowsy students instantly leaped from their seats and charged toward the cafeteria like a sweeping wind.
“Damn, I’m starving. Zhang Ying talks way too damn much.”
“Giao! Time to eat, time to eat, bros!”
“Run faster, damn it! If you’re late there won’t be any food left!”
In a rush, the energetic high schoolers all bolted out in a flash.
The classroom emptied quickly. Yan Xia stayed in her seat, slowly packing up her pencil case.
Jiang He, sitting beside her, hadn’t left. His expression was dark enough to wring water from it.
Yan Xia packed up her bag and stood. She glanced at her deskmate and asked softly, “Jiang He, aren’t you going home?”
Jiang He stared at her fixedly. “Did you embarrass me on purpose today?”
Yan Xia rolled her eyes: You’re the one who dumped the blame on me first—do you have zero self-awareness?
The System’s rule was that her character’s Corruption Value couldn’t accumulate too high, or the people around her would grow suspicious. Her behavior just now fit her character, so her Corruption Value was still at 0.
If the Corruption Value climbed too high… not only would Yan Xia herself be punished, it could even trigger a Collapse of the world inside the book.
To stay in character, she had to hold back the urge to strike back hard and deliberately put on a timid expression, widening her eyes as if frightened: “I—I didn’t. I was just startled by you…”
Jiang He’s face was grim, his voice cold as a festering rot: “Yan Xia, don’t forget who saved you back then.”
Yan Xia went quiet for a moment, then pulled the scratch paper from earlier out of her notebook and held it up for him to see.
The scratch paper was covered in messy strings of numbers and formulas.
“I really was just working on problems just now. I didn’t expect you to suddenly lean over.”
Jiang He stared at it back and forth a few times but couldn’t detect anything off.
“Really?”
Yan Xia nodded, her expression flawless. “Mm.”
Jiang He’s tone softened a little. “You could have just told me earlier. You shouldn’t keep things from me.”
“…Okay.”
Jiang He smoothed away her emotions, hanging a smile back on her face, her voice turning gentle and sweet. “We’re good friends, aren’t we?”
“And look at you, so weird and all… I’m the only one willing to sit at the same desk as you.”
Without waiting for Yan Xia to reply, she shouldered her bag and affectionately looped her arm through Yan Xia’s, heading for the door.
“Come on, let’s go home together.”
Yan Xia was dragged toward the exit in an awkward, uncomfortable posture. She frowned impatiently and was just about to shake the girl off when she saw a familiar female classmate walking toward them.
Jiang He abruptly flung Yan Xia’s hand away, quickly putting distance between them as if they were strangers.
She warmly went to meet the other girl.
Standing together, the two of them were soon chatting and laughing merrily, talking as they walked. After that, Jiang He never spared Yan Xia another glance.
The girl glanced at Yan Xia, her voice tinged with disdain. “Why were you walking with Yan Xia…”
Jiang He said, “Oh, I just saw her going home all alone.”
“I see. What a considerate deskmate you are.”
Yan Xia paused where she stood, gave a silent scoff in her heart, and brushed past the two of them, heading downstairs.
She remembered that Jiang He was a fairly prominent supporting character in the book, always taking advantage of the female lead under the guise of “friendship” while secretly despising her.
Sure enough—the moment she opened her mouth, a master manipulator, as expected.
After walking out of the teaching building, her phone chimed. She took it out and looked—it was a message from Yan Xia’s cheap excuse of a younger sister.
Yan Siqiu: “Are you here yet?”
She was just about to type a reply when another message popped up.
Yan Siqiu: “Did you break your legs or what? Can you walk faster?”
…It had been less than ten minutes since school let out. Was this sister trying to rush her to death?!
Yan Xia quickened her pace and arrived at the school gate, where a silver-gray Maserati was parked at a secluded corner.
She opened the rear door and got in.
The driver greeted her politely. “Second Miss.”
Yan Siqiu sat in the back seat with her arms crossed, glancing up at her impatiently, her tone dripping with sarcasm. “You’re slow every single time. Next time I just won’t wait for you.”
Yan Xia said nothing and slammed the car door shut with a bang.
The loud noise exploded right by her ear. It was a huge sound, and Yan Siqiu flinched involuntarily.
She was a rosy-lipped, white-toothed Omega, better at dressing herself up than the female lead, and thus displayed the Yan family’s inherited beauty to its fullest. Her pampered bearing made it obvious she’d been raised in a honey jar since childhood.
Omegas are easily frightened, and Yan Siqiu’s eyes went wide at the loud bang, her gaze fluttering with a touch of pitiful delicacy.
“Are you losing your temper at me?!” Yan Siqiu raised her voice without realizing it.
This piece of trash actually dares to give me attitude?!
“No.” Yan Xia obediently placed her hands on her knees, the picture of innocence, and said earnestly, “I just accidentally used too much force. Uncle Li, is the door okay?”
The driver, Master Li, hurriedly said, “It’s fine, it’s fine. Second Miss, just be more careful next time.”
“You—!”
Yan Siqiu clutched her chest, her heart still pounding from the fright: The car door is fine, but I’m not!?
She glared furiously at Yan Xia, but unable to find any other flaw in her story, could only turn her head away in anger and refuse to look at her any longer.
Yan Xia had vented her frustration and was thoroughly satisfied.
She hadn’t been entirely lying earlier, either. An Alpha’s strength far exceeded that of an ordinary person in the real world, and she still couldn’t quite control her force. Add to that her bad mood, and her hand had just “slipped” a little.
The System floated out and said quietly, “Host, is it really okay to get revenge on her like this?”
Yan Xia asked, “Did the Corruption Value go up just now?”
“No, not that.”
Yan Xia felt completely justified. “What nonsense are you spouting? When did I deliberately get revenge? This is called legitimately exploiting a bug. You wouldn’t understand.”
The System: …Fine, as long as you’re happy, Your Eminence.
Yan Xia turned to look out the window. The car started slowly, and the scenery and pedestrians flowed past like water.
The ride was silent.
In the reflection of the window, Yan Xia saw Yan Siqiu huddled against the door on her side, head down, playing on her phone.
The two sisters were seated a good two seats’ width apart. The other girl kept a cold face the entire time, not saying a single word, as if she wished she could sit as far away from Yan Xia as possible. Even the driver seemed accustomed to this, driving along calmly.
Yan Xia thought to herself: This female lead really has it rough—even her own little sister can’t stand her.
She had no intention of pressing a warm face to a cold back, and was only too happy to enjoy the peace and quiet. She pulled the scratch paper from earlier out of her pocket and flipped it over. On it was written a dense, sprawling mass of text.
On closer inspection, the text turned out to be the plot progression of this very novel.
During math class, she hadn’t actually been solving problems—she had been trying her best to recall the direction of the novel, writing it into an outline to sort out the plot.
Unfortunately, Yan Xia had read the novel while staying up late, and her memory was limited; she’d forgotten much of the plot. To keep from forgetting more, she had no choice but to write down the parts she could remember.
So this piece of paper absolutely could not be seen by Jiang He.
Yan Xia silently reviewed the plot in her head. A few minutes later, the Maserati slowly rolled into the garden of a white European-style villa.
The car pulled to a stop. Yan Siqiu, apparently long sick of being around Yan Xia, yanked open the car door and dashed toward the front gate without a backward glance.
The moment she stepped inside, her expression transformed. Like a fledgling swallow returning to the woods, she threw herself forward and called out sweetly, “Mom!”
Yan Xia, following behind, got a full-body case of goosebumps. That voice was sweet enough to squeeze honey from—completely unrecognizable from how she’d acted just moments before.
The dining table was already laden with a lavish spread of dishes.
Zhao Daiman sat at the table. Seeing Yan Siqiu return, a smile bloomed on her well-maintained face. “Qiuqiu’s back?” When she saw Yan Xia behind her, the smile faded, and she said evenly, “You must all be hungry. Come sit down and eat.”
“Coming right up!” Yan Siqiu set down her schoolbag, glanced at the empty seats at the table, and asked pointedly, “Mom, isn’t Wandong coming down to eat?”
“Wandong wasn’t feeling well this morning and didn’t go to school. She’s probably still asleep.” Zhao Daiman then nudged the boy beside her. “Xiaoyu, go call your sister down for lunch.”
Six-year-old Shang Zhengyu, a big chicken drumstick in each hand, was eating with great gusto. He pouted. “I’m not going!”
Zhao Daiman shook her head and chided him affectionately, “You—slow down, or you’ll turn into a little piggy ball!”
Yan Xia and Yan Siqiu returned from washing their hands in the kitchen just as the two were talking.
Seeing this, Yan Siqiu quickened her pace, squeezed past Yan Xia, and took the middle seat.
Yan Xia didn’t mind at all and simply sat down at the corner of the dining table, picking up her chopsticks with eager anticipation.
Just look at that golden honey-glazed chicken wing, that oil-dripping roast squab, that pot of milky, fragrant crucian carp soup… This was the one perk of being born into a wealthy family—great food, and all you can eat.
Zhao Daiman didn’t press Shang Zhengyu any further and called to the servant beside her: “A-Mei, go call Wandong down for dinner.”
Mother Mei respectfully acknowledged the order and hurried upstairs.
Zhao Daiman deliberately picked up a piece of braised pork for Yan Siqiu and asked with care, “Qiuqiu, how’s school been lately? Any trouble with your studies? Do you need a tutor?”
Yan Siqiu sat properly. Seeing that Yan Xia had already started eating with chopsticks, so greedy she’d forgotten her manners, she smiled inwardly and answered calmly, “Mom, don’t worry. Everything’s fine.”
Zhao Daiman nodded, gratified. “The monthly exams are coming up soon, aren’t they? But our Qiuqiu always ranks at the top, so there’s nothing to worry about.”
“I’m fine,” Yan Siqiu said with a smile, then shifted her tone. “But my sister might need help more than I do…”
Mother and daughter chatted happily, treating Yan Xia as if she were air the entire time.
She kept her head down, quietly gnawing on a chicken wing. She never expected the topic to turn to her, and the hand holding the wing trembled slightly.
The smile on Zhao Daiman’s face cooled as she looked at Yan Xia. Seeing her still stuffing her face, she felt even more exasperated at her hopelessness, and her tone dropped another three degrees colder.
“Why can’t you learn from your sister and put more effort into your studies? Then maybe you wouldn’t embarrass the family every single exam.”
Yan Siqiu, still resentful about being startled by the car door earlier, felt she’d gotten her revenge and gave Yan Xia a soft, contemptuous snort.
Yan Xia: …How childish can you be? Can’t you at least let me finish a full meal first?
She was just about to lower her head and take the scolding when footsteps sounded from the staircase.
Yan Siqiu’s eyes lit up and she called out affectionately, “Wandong!”
Yan Xia froze.
Shang Wandong—the other female lead of this story.
The original owner’s childhood sweetheart Alpha, the one who accompanied her down the wedding aisle.
The Shang and Yan families were neighbors and close friends. The Shang family ran businesses overseas year-round, with the parents absent, leaving only Shang Wandong and Shang Zhengyu at home. So Zhao Daiman simply had the two of them move in.
Although Shang Wandong was also one of the female leads, Yan Xia really couldn’t bring herself to like her.
She wouldn’t despise the female lead the way others did, but she also wouldn’t distance herself from those who bullied her.
After the two got together, Shang Wandong was always busy rushing from place to place between career and romance, leaving the female lead alone in an empty house—not even coming home to see her on their anniversaries.
The gap between them was too great. Shang Wandong was brilliant and self-possessed, while the female lead was mediocre and timid—a difference like clouds and mud.
Yan Xia was certain that even if the female lead hadn’t died at the end, this relationship wouldn’t have lasted long anyway.
…But at first sight of her, Yan Xia had to admit that Shang Wandong was quite beautiful. This face certainly had the capital to make the female lead fall for her.
Good thing she wasn’t a sucker for pretty faces, she could keep herself in check.
Shang Wandong came downstairs. She walked lightly, her slender body wrapped in a silk nightgown, soft black hair falling to her shoulders, her face inexplicably somewhat pale.
“Wandong, sit here.” Yan Siqiu pulled out the chair beside her, the adoration in her eyes practically turning into Cupid’s arrows as she called out eagerly, “Come sit over here!”
Shang Wandong glanced at her and paid her no mind.
She swept her gaze around the room and walked straight toward Yan Xia.
Shang Wandong’s features were exquisite but cold—the currently trendy “world-weary” look. Without an expression, she always seemed aloof, which unconsciously added a sense of distance.
Yan Siqiu, having been ignored, didn’t dare say anything. She could only watch helplessly as Shang Wandong sat down in the seat next to Yan Xia, grinding her teeth in silent fury.
Yan Xia: ?
Could I have already caught the female lead’s attention this quickly?
After all, my protagonist halo is so dazzling—it’s only natural for people to take an interest in me…
System: “Host, get a grip. This is your first time meeting her!”
Yan Xia: “I don’t believe you, girl. You’re just saying that out of spite.”
System: …
Jokes aside, Yan Xia cast aside her self-flattering thoughts and secretly turned her head to size up Shang Wandong—only to meet the other woman’s gaze head-on.
Shang Wandong held her gaze, her dark eyes deep, that look as if she were scanning Yan Xia from head to toe.
Yan Xia suddenly felt like she was sitting on pins and needles.
“Wandong, why do you keep staring at Yan Xia?” Zhao Daiman asked, puzzled. “Did she do something to upset you?”
Yan Xia: Mom, what do you mean I upset her? I’ve literally never met her before today!
“…Nothing.” Shang Wandong finally shifted her gaze away, saying softly.
Her voice was lovely, like a water droplet falling into a lake and rippling outward.
Yan Xia was baffled: What is this person’s deal? Strange, could it be that I look like a celestial beauty while eating chicken wings?
The female lead and Shang Wandong aren’t even that close at this point, are they? Could it really be because of my protagonist halo…
Yan Xia was utterly stunned. Amid her amazement, she was just about to look away.
But she suddenly noticed that at the corner of Shang Wandong’s eye, there was a faint, barely perceptible trace of red, like red ink bleeding diagonally across white rice paper.
Those beautiful eyes… looked as if she had just been crying.