Three months earlier.
Su Qingsi opened her eyes in a foreign country, propped herself up, threw off the covers, and stepped barefoot onto the carpet.
The carpet beneath her feet was off-white, stretching all the way to the floor-to-ceiling mirror at the other end of the room.
The person in the mirror had almond-shaped eyes, a delicate nose, and naturally rosy lips.
Her skin was dazzlingly fair, her long black hair cascading down her back, the ends curling in a languid wave.
This face was her own face—Bao Si’s face.
“You’re awake.”
An icy electronic voice sounded in her mind.
Su Qingsi looked at the mirror, her fingers brushing her cheek. “What are you?”
“System 076,” the electronic voice said.
“This is the world of the novel The Substitute Bride. You are the male lead Fu Linzhou’s white moonlight, Su Qingsi.”
Su Qingsi turned and walked to the window. Outside was a foreign morning.
“What about the original body?”
“Last night she drank excessively and died in her sleep,” the System said.
“Your soul is somewhat similar to hers, meeting the summoning conditions. This body has now fully merged into your original appearance.”
Su Qingsi nodded. She had slept too long to be stirred by such supernatural matters anymore.
“What is my task?”
“To drive the world toward its grand ending.” The System summoned a Light Screen, densely packed text appearing on it.
“This is an old-school substitute novel.”
“The male lead, Fu Linzhou, heir of the Fu family, head of the capital’s foremost aristocratic family. Height 193, cold and ruthless by nature.”
A photograph appeared on the Light Screen.
A man in a black suit sat at the head of a conference table, with a high nose bridge and thin lips.
Even in a mere photograph, that oppressive aura was palpable.
“In his heart there is a white moonlight—that’s you, Su Qingsi.”
“Three years ago, the Fu family fell into internal strife. You went abroad for your future, unilaterally broke up with him, and he found a substitute—the female lead, Wen Yirou.”
The Light Screen switched to another photograph.
A girl in an off-white knit sweater smiled gently at the camera, her features clear, her demeanor pure.
“Wen Yirou, kind and innocent, the standard female lead of old-school novels.”
“She has secretly loved Fu Linzhou for years, willing to be a substitute, giving him everything, ultimately earning his remorse and deep affection.”
“Your role is to be the catalyst for the male and female leads’ romance.”
“According to the Original Work, after returning to the country, you will constantly frame, scheme against, and humiliate Wen Yirou.”
“These actions will drive Fu Linzhou to see your true colors, making him realize he truly loves Wen Yirou, and begin the ‘chasing his wife to the crematorium’ arc.”
“In the end, Fu Linzhou will send you to prison, marry Wen Yirou, and reach the grand ending.”
The System poured the entire novel into Su Qingsi’s mind.
In the Original Work, Su Qingsi, after returning to the country, faked depression to gain sympathy, stole design drafts and framed others for plagiarism—all sorts of schemes, low-level and vicious.
And Fu Linzhou, from nostalgia to disappointment, ultimately sent her to prison with his own hands.
In the extra chapters, Su Qingsi was set up in prison by Wen Yirou’s admirers and subjected to humiliation by multiple men.
After release, she was destitute and ultimately froze to death on a snowy night.
Wen Yirou became the true Mrs. Fu, doted on by Fu Linzhou for a lifetime, enjoying endless glory and wealth.
Su Qingsi said calmly, “I don’t like this ending.”
The System paused. “This is the Original Work’s setting.”
“But as long as you complete your task and drive Fu Linzhou to place the wedding ring on Wen Yirou’s finger, this world will break free from the Original Work’s constraints and become an independent space-time.”
“At that time, you can live freely as Su Qingsi, no longer controlled by the Plotline, and no longer needing to sleep.”
Su Qingsi turned around. “As long as they get married?”
“Yes. The moment the wedding ring is placed on the finger, that is the finale node.”
“After that, this world will no longer be controlled by anything.”
Su Qingsi smiled softly.
It was a faint smile, just a slight curve at the corners of her lips, yet even that tiny smile brought her entire face to life with vivid color and charm.
“Bao Si was the beauty who toyed with the feudal lords with beacon fires—naturally she is meant to enjoy the tribute of all under heaven.” She spoke slowly.
“How could she be poor and destitute?”
The System fell silent. It was intelligent, but it could not understand the implication beneath the words.
Su Qingsi turned and walked toward the walk-in closet, which was filled with the latest season’s haute couture garments, arranged by color, exquisitely tailored, with luxurious fabrics.
Her fingers trailed across a row of dresses, finally stopping on a smoke-pink knit long dress.
Su Qingsi slipped off her nightgown. The mirror reflected a snow-white body—a slender waist not even a handful, full breasts, rounded and perky hips, legs long and straight.
Every part of her was stunningly beautiful, devastatingly alluring—a natural, innate delicacy.
She put on the long dress.
Then, in front of the jewelry cabinet, she selected an extremely thin diamond necklace and fastened it around her neck.
“Where is the Plotline now?” Su Qingsi asked casually while adjusting her long hair in the mirror.
“Wen Yirou was recently set up to end up in Fu Linzhou’s bed, and was caught by Elder Fu, who misunderstood the situation.” The System pulled up the timeline.
“To placate his grandfather, and because Wen Yirou bears some resemblance to you, Fu Linzhou signed a contract with her to pretend to be a couple in front of others.”
“Currently, Fu Linzhou still treats Wen Yirou as a substitute.”
“Occasionally he is slightly gentler when she resembles you from a certain angle, but most of the time he is cold.”
“Wen Yirou has been secretly in love with him all along. She currently handles all the housework, cooks for him, and imitates your former clothing style and perfume.”
Su Qingsi was examining a lipstick when she heard this and paused.
“Have they slept together?” she asked, her tone flat.
“Half.” The System answered.
“That night, Fu Linzhou mistakenly believed Wen Yirou had schemed to carry the Fu family’s child. He refused to truly submit, and at the last moment switched methods, so it only counts as half.”
Su Qingsi’s eyebrow arched slightly.
“In the Original Work, their true first time happens in the mid-to-late stage, when the white moonlight causes trouble,” the System added.
Su Qingsi blinked at the mirror. The beauty in the reflection had eyes that shimmered with flowing light—utterly pure and innocent.
“How long until I return to the country and the Original Work’s plotline officially begins?”
“Three months.”
She stood up and walked to the window, looking down at the foreign street gradually waking below.
“System,” she suddenly spoke.
“I’m here.”
“You said that as long as Fu Linzhou places the wedding ring on Wen Yirou’s finger at the specific time node, my task is complete, right?”
“Yes.”
Su Qingsi’s brows and eyes curved, her smile delicate and charming, yet deep in her eyes was utter clarity.
“Then that would be, wonderful.”
……
Three months was enough time for Su Qingsi to thoroughly understand the ins and outs of this world.
Using the original host’s phone and computer, she looked up everything she needed.
History, technology, politics, economics, the rules of social media, the rise and fall of luxury brands.
She learned quickly—so quickly that even the System was sometimes surprised.
But on second thought, for a woman who could make an emperor toy with feudal lords with beacon fires from deep within the palace, what was this little learning ability?