Transmigration

I transmigrated into the villainess’s… apple.

That’s right, the Poison Apple from Snow White’s stepmother.

On the very first day after transmigrating, I cried because I was so ugly.

Damn it, half red and half green.

Maybe because I was crying too loudly, the Magic Mirror next door cautiously poked me.

“Um… actually, I think you’re the most… special… apple in this world.”

I paused, then glanced at his slightly reddened mirror surface.

“…Thanks, Comfort Hero.”

Qiao Ying had transmigrated into a book. Unfortunately, kidnappers had injured her head, leaving her with amnesia.

In a dark, damp dungeon, she met a young man.

He wore robes of blue-green, his white hair as pure as snow. His face was exquisitely beautiful, but a white silk blindfold covered his eyes. Though he was disabled, he was the most optimistic person she had ever met, always smiling.

That day, the amnesiac Qiao Ying escaped the dungeon with the harmless-looking young man in tow.

The young man was a good person.

Because he was afraid of blood, even amid mountains of corpses and seas of gore, not a speck of dust stained his robes.

Because he was timid, whenever others fought, he only dared to hide far away, only for everyone to die in a poisonous mist the next moment.

Because he was kind, he offered medicine to enemies suffering in agony. Sadly, they failed to endure it and died with blood pouring from all seven orifices.

And so, she decided to marry such a good person.

Later, righteous cultivators came charging in with swords drawn, shouting that he was a monster.

That night, corpses littered the ground.

At last, she remembered the plot.

This was a bizarre, fantastical world crawling with eerie horrors.

There was a great villain who lacked the emotions of an ordinary person. He brought calamity to the world and stirred up countless conflicts, until in the end, the male and female leads sacrificed their lives to seal him away.

Amid the storm of blood and violence, the young man looked back at her.

His blue eyes were deep and uncanny. Blood spattered his face, making him look like an Asura descended upon the mortal realm. Behind him, nine fox tails unfurled with wanton grace, bewitching and breathtakingly vivid.

Qiao Ying went deathly pale with fright.

But he only smiled softly. “If you’re scared and want to run, it’s too late-”

Before he could finish, Qiao Ying ran, but straight into his arms. She wiped the blood from his face and said, “You scared me! I thought you were hurt!”

The young man blinked, patted her head, then poked her cheek. “Are you stupid?”

In her previous life, Jin Bao was a little zombie king. After transmigrating, she became weak and helpless, beaten by an aunt and uncle who weren’t even related to her by blood.

By a twist of fate, she was bought by the Marchioness of Loyalty and Bravery. One moment, she had just become the legitimate daughter of the Marquis’s Mansion; the next, the entire household was destroyed, its property confiscated and the whole family sentenced to exile.

Jin Bao awakened a random Heavenly Eye, granting her glimpses of the past and future.

On the road to exile, while others gnawed on tree bark and dug up grass roots to survive, the people of the Marquis’s Mansion picked up gold, unearthed ginseng, and ate fluffy white steamed buns with roasted meat.

The path of exile was fraught with danger: assassinations, ambushes, plagues, swamps…

Guided by Jin Bao’s Heavenly Eye, they quietly defused every crisis, then turned around and sent their enemies a delightful surprise package.

Everyone believed the bitterly cold Northern Frontier was nothing but barren wasteland.

But Jin Bao led her family to build a city there, reclaim the land, open trade routes, and train soldiers.

When chaos engulfed the realm and the people were plunged into misery, the world finally realized that the great city of the Northern Frontier, once dismissed as a savage, desolate land, had become the only sanctuary under heaven.

I transmigrated into a Merfolk Princess who burst into tears at the drop of a hat.

The System wanted me to bully the brooding villain before his Dragon Transformation.

I swam up to him and, trembling all over, slapped his face with my fishtail.

“B-bas… bastard.”

The System lectured me, “Own it! Put your back into it!”

Later, the villain completed his Dragon Transformation and became the Lord of the Four Seas.

He pinned my fishtail beneath the dragon claw of his lower body, his voice hoarse.

“Not enough. Again.”

I’m a woman, but I transmigrated into the most useless marquis in the Marquis Manor.

The original host let his second wife frame the eldest daughter born to his first wife, then sent that little girl off to a country estate to suffer.

When the eldest daughter finally returned, he stole her engagement and gave it to the second daughter.

When the second daughter was abused, he didn’t say a damn word.

When the third daughter was framed, he simply married her off to her abuser.

When the fourth daughter was being coerced, he scolded her for trying to drive a wedge between the sisters.

When his young son ran wild outside, he finally took action.

But he only helped the wrongdoer and even gave the victim a good intimidation session.

Every single thing he did was basically aimed at wiping out the entire Marquis Manor.

In the end, he got his retribution too.

The young son he truly loved wasn’t even his biological child.

As for his daughters, some died, and some became estranged.

In the end, the eldest daughter, who became the Empress, exterminated the whole family.

Now that I’ve transmigrated here, I plan to apply myself, get things in order, and be a proper father.

But since I’m a woman, I really don’t want to sleep with women.

So I directly told my one wife and three concubines,

“This master has been medically confirmed impotent. Tell me, what do you think we should do about it?”

I have a secret.

From the moment I was born, I carried memories of my previous life.

I buried that secret deep in my heart and never dared reveal the slightest trace of it.

Until the year I entered the palace as a maid.

The other maids warned me never to provoke Shen Ruyun, Imperial Consort Shen.

They said she was a vicious, ruthless woman, and that countless eunuchs and palace maids had died by her hand.

I did not believe it.

Because I had once seen Shen Ruyun’s portrait.

And I recognized her.

She was my daughter from my previous life.

When I died, she was only ten years old.

I wanted to understand why that sweet, sensible child had become such a wicked ghost now…

After being reborn on my wedding night, I fed the male lead the Virtuous Wife Charm.

The world-hopping woman tried to become his concubine.

He said, “How could one man promise himself to two women?”

The world-hopping woman gave him high-yield superior seeds.

He said, “With such a divine treasure, why would my wife ever need to worry about failing in her great cause?”

The world-hopping woman broke down.

“You useless piece of trash! If this keeps up, how are you supposed to rise up and rule the world?”

He said, “My wife can dominate a region all on her own. Why would I need to rise up and rule the world?”

On the day I ascended the throne, his charm broke.

“You vile woman! How dare you usurp my legacy!” His eyes nearly split with rage.

I propped my chin on my hand. “Someone, this man has shown disrespect to Us. Kill him.”

I am the strongest NPC in a horror game, they call me the Ghost Bride.

I wear a Red Wedding Dress, swaying my crimson nails, wandering freely through the vast ancient mansion, unbound by the rules.

I enjoy watching the terror on the players’ faces and the screams they let out.

Until one day, a middle-aged woman saw my face clearly, neither terrified nor screaming.

She shed tears: “My dear, I am your mother.”

By the time I transmigrated into this world, the story was already nearing its end.

The realm had been united, and the New Emperor had ascended the throne.

The woman who had shared his hardships and stayed by his side through everything had been granted a cup of poisoned wine.

And I was the Empress he was about to marry: the legitimate daughter of the Wang Clan, born of an illustrious house.

I looked at the woman who had just drunk the poisoned wine. “Do you know why I came?”

She let out a cold laugh, sweat beading across her brow. “Afraid I won’t die?”

“No.” I took a pill from my sleeve and pushed it into her mouth. “Afraid you will.”

My younger sister gave birth to a son in the Eastern Palace.

I brought a fortune in family wealth and cartloads of rare medicinal pills with me to the palace to visit her.

The moment she saw me, she nestled into my arms and began to cry, tears falling one after another.

Her movements were intimate, her voice soft and spoiled. There was not the slightest trace of distance or unfamiliarity between us.

And yet my entire body went rigid, a chill crawling up my spine and sinking into my heart.

Because the face before me, identical to my sister’s in every way,

was not the dead woman’s skin I had sewn onto her with my own hands.