Female Protagonist

While I was at work, a line of comments drifted over my head: [Huh? Is this player pouring tea for the boss?]

[No way! This is a super SS-rank horror instance!]

The blood-red words swept past overhead, radiating an eerie, ominous air. Not far away, my boss sat with his gold-rimmed glasses on, head lowered as he read the newspaper, just like always.

I stopped looking at the “comments” and, bracing myself, picked up the cup of hot tea. “B-Boss, your tea is ready.”

The man in front of me didn’t take it.

Instead, he stared at me with an unreadable expression.

“Why are you so nervous?”

“Did you see something I can’t?”

I am a mushroom. But my master doesn’t see it that way.

Whenever I tell him I’m a mushroom that gained sentience, he just lets out a long, heavy sigh.

Aside from that, he’s very good to me. He cooks for me, buys me clothes, watches boring arthouse movies with me…

On every late night I spend curled up in the corner, after he gets home from working overtime, he quietly carries me back to bed.

He even told me he wanted to have a child with me. At that, I clutched my stomach and burst out laughing.

“Please. How could a human and a mushroom possibly have a baby?”

We reproduce by spores. Have you never heard of reproductive isolation?

…

Until one day, I stared at the pregnancy test with two bright lines on it and completely short-circuited.

“I once blew thirty-five thousand on a man in a single night.”

Everyone thought I was drunk and talking big, and the room burst into laughter.

Only one person remained expressionless. He was the star of the night.

The entire department had taken turns playing Truth or Dare, all for the sake of buttering him up and securing the seven-figure ad placement case in his hands.

When the drinking was over and everyone had left, the man looked at me, the only one who had stayed behind.

His gaze was indifferent, his tone laced with mockery.

“Director Yu, how many years ago was that? And you still remember it so clearly?”

Yuan Lina was the kind of teenage delinquent who wore bizarre outfits, dyed her hair strange colors, and caked on dramatic makeup.

Yuan Lina smoked, drank-she did it all. She had once poured Erguotou into a mineral water bottle and brought it to school to drink openly.

Yuan Lina liked forming little gangs and bullying people.

Plenty of people had been beaten up by her.

When the village held funerals, it had a custom called “Ox-Cutting.”

Each member of the bereaved family would take a blade in the mourning hall and hack a live ox to death as an offering to the departed.

A friend brought me along to watch the ritual.

I never imagined that when I woke up, I would have become that “ox.”

The villagers closed in around me with knives in hand.

But what they didn’t know was that I was the sole Earth Master successor.

The Han army captured Luoyang. My husband, His Majesty himself, knelt at the rebels’ feet, trembling like a lamb waiting for slaughter.

“The Empress is in Jiaofang Hall. Please, don’t kill me…”

I had been married to him for five years and had given birth to our daughter, Princess Heqing.

Yet at the moment of crisis, he offered me up without the slightest hesitation.

I was a female scripture teacher who recited sutras for the madam of the household.

Yet in the middle of the night, someone cornered me behind the incense-draped curtains and asked me who was better-looking: him or the Bodhisattva.

That night, I did not choose the Bodhisattva.

Unfortunately, after barely three months, he came to bid me farewell.

I thought he had simply grown tired of me, so I agreed without fuss.

From then on, he lived beneath the glow of red lanterns, lost in endless pleasure, while I returned alone to the ancient Buddha and my solitary lamp.

Who would have thought that later, when he learned I had been drowned in a pond… He went mad.

I transmigrated into a world of horror, and by accident, I stole and ate the Bodhisattva’s offerings.

But the Bodhisattva did not blame me. Instead, They told me to leave that place and never come back.

After I became an adult, a huge sum of money inexplicably appeared in my account.

Someone told me I must not accept it.

Because in another world, someone was making offerings to the dead-me.

Half skeptical and half convinced, I took the money.

But that night, I heard the Bodhisattva’s whisper again.

“Run…”

“The thing from that world…”

“It has found you.”

I woke up in my arch-rival’s bed.

His clothes were in disarray, his body was covered in red marks, and his eyes were clouded with the lingering haze of intimacy.

Shocked and enraged, I pointed at him and yelled, “Traitorous Chancellor, how dare you defile me-”

“This Chancellor has fulfilled every custom from the three letters to the six rites. Why would I not dare?” he countered calmly.

“Nonsense!” My eyes widened. “When did I ever marry you?”

“Not long ago,” he said, his long eyes narrowing as he looked at me, “while you were suffering from amnesia.”

While the concubines of the harem fought for favor, the Empress was wondering when the emperor would finally die.

The emperor and I had been married since our youth, but ours was a match arranged without either of us having any say.

After all these years, we had only ever treated each other with distant courtesy.

And as my son grew older by the day, I found myself hoping more and more that His Majesty might depart this world sooner rather than later-if only so all my years of diligently managing his harem would not have been in vain.