Female Protagonist

I was forced to go on a blind date.

To make the guy back off on his own, I made something up. “I’m infertile.”

The handsome man across from me looked surprised. “Well, what do you know? So am I.”

So I simply took off my coat, revealing the skintight Wangzai shirt underneath.

He raised an eyebrow and stuck out one foot, showing off his golden Chelsea boot.

Me: “…”

I’d met my match.

If you read a lot of historical romance novels, then I’m sure you’re familiar with this scene: An assassin draws his blade and lunges at the male lead.

At the critical moment, the female lead rushes forward and takes the stab for him.

She collapses into his arms, and he cries her name in panic…

When I transmigrated, this exact scene was unfolding.

You think I was the female lead? Nope.

And of course, I wasn’t the male lead either. I was the assassin.

Before our wedding invitations could even be written, I was pinned down onto the Core-extraction Platform.

When the tip of Ning Changye’s sword pierced my chest, he suddenly coughed up blood before I did.

Only then did the entire sect see his Life Thread wrapped around my wrist.

But what they didn’t know was that if I failed to survive the next seven days, the Demon Abyss would tear open-and the person who truly deserved to die was still standing on the high platform, watching me with a smile.

Everyone said I was blessed by fate.

Born behind vermilion gates, I rested my head on jade and wrapped myself in brocade.

At three, I began my education, studying essays on how to govern the realm.

At five, I held an abacus, calculating the empire’s grain and coin.

At twelve, I debated the scholars in the clan school and, though I was a girl, took first place above them all.

At fifteen, during my coming-of-age banquet, warlords from three regions offered mountains and rivers as my betrothal gifts.

And yet, I chose the hardest road of all.

The day I eloped with a lowly soldier who guarded the city gate, the entire city laughed at me for debasing myself.

After one night of passion, I was stricken from the Yin Clan’s rolls, my spotless reputation ruined.

No one knew that the soldier was the last surviving bloodline of the imperial house.

They were fighting for the realm.

What I was fighting for was the right to take history’s iron brush in hand and rewrite the world with a name that could not be questioned.

My friend went on a trip to Tibet and unexpectedly vanished.

It wasn’t until much later that I discovered a tattoo on a drum that was identical to the one on her back.

I struck the human-skin drum. The sound was dull and heavy.

Suddenly, my friend burst in from outside. “Run!”

I transmigrated into a tragic romance world trapped in an endless cycle and became the city spirit of the Liang Kingdom.

Again and again, the heroine, Bai Ruohuan, leapt from the city wall.

Again and again, the emperor, Liang Qingci, marched toward the ruin of his nation.

At first, I only wanted to sit back and watch the spectacle unfold, but I was forced onto the stage to change their fate.

Alongside that cold-hearted, impassive emperor, I fought to survive through countless cycles, until at last I glimpsed the truth hidden behind Heaven’s Love Calamity.

I am blind.

Inside the refrigerator, I felt my boyfriend’s corpse.

And someone was standing right behind me,

waiting to see how I would react.

Just as I was confessing my feelings to Lu Qinian, I suddenly learned that he was the male lead of a novel—and I was not the heroine.

I snapped on the spot, my face twisting as I yanked the love letter out of his hand.

“How could a bookish girl like me dare touch a shameless flirt like you?”

“Goodbye.”

Lu Qinian stared at me in confusion.

Later, Lu Qinian pinned me in his arms and kissed me senseless.

Between ragged breaths, he gave a cold laugh.

“I went to all that trouble seducing you, and you called me shameless?”

“You’re unbelievable.”

After my simple-minded younger sister’s engagement was broken, she threw herself against a stone pillar. But I knew that someone from another world would come and live in her place.

She would become the heroine of this world, dazzling everyone and winning fame beneath the heavens.

I, meanwhile, would lose my beloved to her, see my reputation for talent destroyed, and end as a bitter, hateful woman brought to a wretched ruin.

She was the triumphant transmigrated heroine of an old-fashioned romance novel.

I was its vicious supporting woman.

But I refused to accept that fate.

This time, I wiped the blood from her brow, stood between her and the crowd, and became the first warmth she felt in this strange world.

During the autumn hunt, my fiancé’s precious first love deliberately shot an arrow through my hair.

The ladies around us went white with shock.

But her eyes reddened, and she shrank behind my fiancé.

“My arrow went astray.

I didn’t mean to hurt her.

But she stood in front of my quarry and wouldn’t move.

Surely she bears some of the blame?”

My fiancé shielded her and shouted at me: “Weapons don’t have eyes.

If you can’t dodge them on a hunting ground, that’s your own incompetence.”

I merely murmured assent.

Then I raised my bow.

Three arrows whistled from it at once.

They pierced the left sides of the pair’s chests and the venomous snake behind them.

The two collapsed into pools of blood, their faces paper-white.

I picked up the snake and gave them a cold smile.

“Why didn’t you dodge?

Didn’t feel like it?”