Transmigration

My best friend and I ended up inside the same novel.

She was the scheming second male lead’s hopeless admirer.

I was the obsessive villain’s substitute lover.

In public, we pined for men who didn’t love us.

In private, we spent their money like there was no tomorrow.

After three years of living it up, the heroine—the woman they supposedly truly loved—came back.

Once we learned that both men would lose their minds over her, my best friend packed a little bag and knocked on my door late at night.

“I’ve saved enough.

Have you?”

“Not quite,” I said.

“But I can spend yours.”

So we faked our deaths and ran away together.

Three years later, she had the misfortune to run into her ex-husband.

“I’ll cover for you!”

I told her.

“Run!”

Then I turned around and walked straight into a solid chest.

The obsessive villain calmly undid his tie and bound my hands.

“Try getting away yourself first.”

Ten years after I became Xiaotian, the Celestial Hound, I finally took human form.

As a woman.

Yang Jian went silent.

All three of his eyes blinked for ages.

He still couldn’t work it out.

His best buddy was definitely male.

I hung from the city wall while the rebel leader taunted my husband.

“My lord, choose: your old love or your wife!”

Beside me, Li Yaoyao cried out with righteous resolve, “Sui’an, don’t worry about me!

Storm the city!

Tell the crown prince I’ll marry him in my next life!”

Two arrows whistled through the air.

The rebel holding Li Yaoyao at his mercy fell dead.

I watched in silence as Shen Sui’an and the crown prince came flying toward us.

Both crowded around Li Yaoyao.

Neither noticed that my rope had been cut.

[World-hopping + no romance + no female rivalry + satisfying power fantasy, with an unbeatable heroine]

After clearing the infinite scenarios, Zhu Yin transferred to a new workplace.

The World-Hopping Department gained a sweet, harmless-looking new employee, and the protagonists of each world found themselves with the most hardcore supporting-role assistant imaginable–one devoted to helping her bosses get exactly what they wanted.

In a CEO world:

The tyrannical CEO roared, “Find her! Dig three feet into every inch of City A if you have to, but bring my wife back!”

Butler Zhu Yin, taking out her equipment: “Boss, which plot of land would you like to start digging up? The damage will be rather extensive, though. The Shen family may not be able to afford it.”

In an entertainment-industry world:

The popular young actress sobbed, “Director Ji says I’m terrible at fight scenes and there’s no killing intent in my eyes. He chewed me out seven times today.”

Assistant Zhu Yin, taking out a scenario card: “Boss, how does a zombie invasion sound? Here’s a free trial pass. No need to thank me.”

…

Later, with a record of zero complaints, Zhu Yin became a legend in the World-Hopping Department.

I woke up as the Queen Mother of Heaven.

The moment I arrived, I caught the Seventh Fairy sneaking down to the mortal world.

Naturally, I gave her my blessing.

I even thoughtfully made her a mortal body, took away her magical powers, and escorted her down myself, so she and Dong Yong could be a mortal couple in every sense.

After she left, I gathered every fairy in Heaven to watch a livestream of her life on earth.

Peaches of Immortality and celestial wine were unlimited; daily reflection papers had a three-thousand-character minimum.

Afterward, not a single young fairy yearned for mortal life again.

On my first night inside the novel, the villain barged into my practice room.

Then he found himself staring at the male lead and the second male lead, already seated on meditation cushions.

After a long silence, he said, “Move over.

Make room for me.”

“There’s no room,” the male lead said.

“There really isn’t.”

I surveyed the cushions packed across the floor.

“I think we can squeeze in one more.”

I was the heroine of an erotic novel, until the system dumped me into a chaste romance to reform me.

Please.

I went straight up to the male lead and said, “Hey.

Want to kiss?”

He had me thrown in jail for molesting him.

Later, he turned out to be even more outrageous than the men in erotic fiction.

I’d transmigrated into the role of an overpowered hero’s spoiled fiancé.

A spoiled fiancé riddled with poison, with only three years left to live.

The system told me: [Host, your mission is to play the spoiled brat.

Make the protagonist’s life difficult and toughen him up mentally.]

[When the poison kills you, you’ll receive a generous reward~] [Friendly reminder: you’re not allowed to seriously harm the protagonist.

The system will stop you.]

In other words, I was supposed to light a fire under him without actually burning him.

So I threw tantrums every day.

“I want that merfolk pearl.

It matches my clothes.”

“What did I do in my past eight lives to deserve a penniless fiancé like you?”

“Your life’s ambition should be to keep me in comfort!”

Three years later, the hero had made a name for himself.

I lay back and waited to die.

The system screamed.

[Host!

Where did all your poison go?!]

My husband was a notorious invalid.

We had been married for three years, and he had never once touched me intimately.

Gentle and gracious, he would often drag his frail body to the couch to read and compose poetry.

Watching him look so fragile that he might die at any moment left me utterly exasperated.

I couldn’t help demanding of the system, “Seriously?

Look at him.

He’s practically at death’s door.

“And you’re telling me he’ll become a monster everyone wants dead?”

The good news: I’d landed in a Journey to the West fanfic.

The bad news: I was a snake spirit who survived exactly one episode.

To stay alive, I lied that Guanyin had sent me and became Tang Sanzang’s disciple.

Eldest Brother was stunned.

“We’ve already cleared fifty-four of the eighty-one trials, and you’re only joining us now?”

“Ha ha.

That’s what having connections gets you.”