“Pei family’s third young master is so good-looking, yet he has to marry that kind of woman! What a sin…”
“I saw her abusing An’an before! And even Xixi—last month, when it was pouring rain, she made Xixi kneel in the rain to ‘reflect’! That’s way too cruel!”
“I’ve seen people who don’t act human, but never someone this beastly!”
“……”
All kinds of noisy voices flooded her ears like demonic chanting, irritating to the extreme.
Song Shiyu opened her eyes, let out a heavy sigh, and closed them again.
She turned over. Her groggy mind was suddenly filled with a flood of information—she needed time to sort it all out.
Great.
She had transmigrated into a novel.
Walk by the river often enough, and eventually your shoes get wet.
After being poisoned by novels every day, well—now the one who transmigrated into a book was herself.
Depressing. Very depressing.
This was a male-oriented novel titled I Became the Top Scholar in Ancient Times. It told the story of the male lead, Pei Qinhuai, who was born into an ordinary farming family and endured ridicule from neighbors, humiliation from relatives, a broken engagement, and countless hardships. Step by step, through the imperial examinations, he climbed from the very bottom to become the highest-ranking Grand Chancellor. He pleaded for the people, purged political enemies, and ultimately became the most trusted and powerful minister of the current emperor.
From the looks of it, she could’ve just coasted along as the top scholar’s legal wife.
But in the novel, she constantly looked down on Pei Qinhuai and made life difficult for him. Not only did she forbid him from sleeping in the room at night, she even once had people strip him naked and lock him in the woodshed.
In the end, she stole the money he needed for the imperial exams, stuffed his winter clothes with willow catkins instead of cotton, causing him to fall gravely ill at the examination hall—nearly dying!
Naturally, after Pei Qinhuai was personally appointed as the top scholar, the very first thing he did was get rid of his troublesome first wife—her.
Song Shiyu: Great. Powerful. This is a guaranteed-death scenario.
Song Shiyu: Why did I even transmigrate here? To wait for death?
Song Shiyu had already been lying in bed for two days, unwilling to face this awful ending.
She wanted to keep lying there—but soon enough, she had no choice.
The dry steamed buns that had been left in the room were already gone, and her nominal fiancé, Pei Qinhuai, clearly wasn’t planning on bringing her any food.
She didn’t actually have the resolve to die. After thinking it over for a long time, she concluded that life still had to go on.
So she forced herself up, did a simple wash, found a barely worn set of clothes, and changed.
Song Shiyu took a deep breath.
Since I’m here, I might as well make the best of it.
She pushed open the broken wooden door and stepped outside.
The sunlight was bright, the sun blazing high in the sky.
Several thatched cottages came into view. Though plainly furnished, the place still looked elegant in its own way, with a rustic charm.
“Smack!”
A dirty clod of yellow earth was suddenly thrown from the side, hitting Song Shiyu squarely.
She winced and looked over.
A three-year-old child—short, only reaching above her knees—stood there with a skinny, dark face that was oddly handsome. His cheeks were puffed with anger as he glared fiercely at her.
“You’re the worst! Second Miss Song is the worst!”
Song Shiyu: ???
Just as she was about to step forward and warn the child, several images flashed through her mind.
Her steps halted.
Though the scenes weren’t very clear, what had happened was obvious.
They were all memories of the original owner of this body harshly scolding and abusing the child in front of her.
The insults had been vicious—she had even shoved the child before.
Holy crap.
The original owner wasn’t human at all!
Song Shiyu’s head instantly started to ache.
She had just transmigrated—couldn’t she at least have transmigrated into a decent person?
What the original owner did to a child was downright inhumane. No wonder the kid threw dirt at her—she totally deserved it.
“Um… An’an, I’m not—”
Song Shiyu stepped toward Pei Jin’an, trying to explain herself to the child.
She hadn’t even taken two steps when Pei Jin’an’s expression changed drastically. He turned and ran, shouting at the top of his lungs as he went.
“Second Miss Song is killing someone! Second Miss Song is killing someone!”
Song Shiyu: “……”
…This little brat.
Seeing how fast he was running, and worried he might fall, Song Shiyu hurried after him.
But just as she reached the doorway, she stopped.
Pei Jin’an had already dashed outside. The moment he saw Pei Qinhuai returning, he immediately hid behind him.
“Third Uncle! Second Miss Song is trying to bully me again!”
Song Shiyu: “?”
Song Shiyu: I haven’t even done anything yet, damn it!
Song Shiyu: This little punk is really good at framing people.
But—
Her gaze shifted to Pei Qinhuai.
The man before her had a tall, handsome bearing, standing at the doorway with an imposing presence. He wore a moon-white robe that fluttered in the wind, a jade ornament hanging at his waist.
His long black hair was tied up with a wooden hairpin. His brows and eyes were cool and distant, his expression indifferent.
The corners of his eyes curved slightly upward, as if he naturally carried a hint of a smile. Behind his left eyebrow was a clearly visible black mole—set against his fair, delicate skin, it made him strikingly beautiful.
He really was good-looking—just not someone who seemed easy to get along with.
At that thought, Song Shiyu’s brief infatuation with his looks cooled by more than half.
Of course it did. Given all the awful things the original owner had done, she’d already lost any right to choose a spouse.
So annoying.
Pei Qinhuai said, “There’s food inside. If you’re hungry, go eat.”
Song Shiyu: ???
She touched her stomach—yeah, she really was hungry.
Pointing at Pei Jin’an, she said, “You little brat—once I’ve eaten, I’ll come deal with you.”
Of course, Song Shiyu had no intention of truly arguing with a kid.
She turned and went into the kitchen.
After being hungry for two days, she wasn’t about to complain about how plain the food on the low table was.
She walked over, picked up the already-cold thin porridge, and drank it straight down.
Outside, Pei Qinhuai and Pei Jin’an—one big, one small—were talking.
Pei Jin’an frowned deeply, fury burning in his eyes. “Third Uncle! That bad woman bullied me again—why didn’t you help me? You’re just letting her off like this. Are you saying I don’t matter to you?”
Pei Qinhuai rubbed his brow. A trace of exhaustion flickered across his tired face. He squatted down and held Pei Jin’an by the shoulders.
“Second Miss isn’t that bad. Besides… I’ve already brought it up.”
Pei Jin’an’s expression darkened further.
He glared viciously at Pei Qinhuai.
“What do you mean ‘not that bad’?! You’re just afraid to offend her! Just because she saved your life once, you’re going to be her lapdog for the rest of your life?”
“You really disappoint me!”
The boy’s furious voice echoed across the courtyard.
Inside, Song Shiyu finished the last few mouthfuls of porridge and set the bowl down, stunned.
In the novel, Pei Qinhuai could indeed be called a lapdog—at least after meeting Song Shiyu, he’d been completely blinded by beauty.
There was no helping it. The Pei family was weak and poor, while Song Shiyu was beautiful and from a good background.
Young men and women were bound to be naïve when first falling in love. And Song Shiyu was naturally charming, skilled at seduction—so much so that countless talented young men from nearby counties fell at her feet.
Pei Qinhuai, despite being the male lead, was no exception.
And to be fair…
Song Shiyu really had saved Pei Qinhuai once.