chapter 1

“Even a heartless man like the Demon Lord Mo Lin could no longer bear to watch Zhu Xueyi degrade herself so shamelessly.”

“Her death is no great loss. The pity is that she has sullied this beautiful snow, forcing it to bury such a vicious, ungrateful wretch.”

I jolted awake from the nightmare. The red-robed fairy’s jeering voice still rang in my ears from high above the clouds, and I could not suppress a shudder.

Then several lines of text appeared before my eyes.

—So this is Zhu Xueyi, the vicious second female lead? She’s finally on screen.

—It’s too dark to see her face. Nice silhouette, though. She looks way too frail—not nearly as lively as our darling Miaoyin.

—Leave our darling Miaoyin out of this.

—The vicious second female lead, huh? I’ll spend a little money and drop a rat in there for fun. Hahahaha.

A rat began rustling through the silent cellar. My pupils contracted.

The Zhu Xueyi mentioned in those words was me. Miaoyin was my younger sister, Zhu Miaoyin.

I was the lowly daughter of a concubine; she was the noble legitimate daughter.

I was a helpless mortal branded as a demon servant. She was the fairy prophesied to save the world.

When the Zhu family was massacred, Zhu Miaoyin took me to the immortal sect as her servant.

She and her eldest senior brother, Weisheng Yan, had feelings for each other, so the jealous female cultivators vented their anger on me, a mere mortal.

Later, Zhu Miaoyin rescued the Demon Lord and won his heart as well.

To force her to become his demon consort, the Demon Lord abducted me to the Demon Realm, branded me as his servant, and tormented me without mercy.

While I was thrown into a demon pool to endure agony that scraped my very bones, she was locked in a passionate love-hate affair with him.

While I surrendered myself to a demon alchemist to purge the demonic energy from my body, she swore to live and die with him.

The day before I finally cleansed myself, Zhu Miaoyin stabbed the Demon Lord to save the common people and returned gravely wounded, on the brink of death.

To save her, her eldest senior brother took half my heart and refined it into a pill, welcoming the world’s savior back to life.

And me? Corroded by demonic energy and missing half a heart, I entered the Netherworld in my mortal body because I wanted to live.

That was all I wanted—to live.

So I bent my back, crushed my pride, and became the most despised kind of ghost: a thrall that served the tiger who had killed it.

Yet the immortals above the clouds decided that even my desperate struggle to survive was a mortal sin, a disgrace that stained Fairy Miaoyin’s name.

I should have died at the very beginning, they said. At least then I would have kept an untarnished reputation.

I should never have allowed so much as a speck of filth to touch Zhu Miaoyin’s spotless robes.

Even Zhu Miaoyin herself said,

“Zhu Xueyi, I never imagined you were this kind of person.”

“Had I known, I would rather have died than accept your kindness and have half your heart refined for me!”

At last, I broke.

What had I done wrong?

If she would rather die than let the heart of a lowly, filthy mortal contaminate her sacred body, then she could die.

I knew she had formed a bond with the Demon Lord. If she died, he would be severely weakened.

They were a lofty immortal-demon pair who toyed with mortals and despised us for being filthy. They could die together.

But before I could hurt her, the Demon Lord sensed my hatred for his beloved.

With a casual wave, he erased the demon-servant brand that not even death had allowed me to escape.

When the brand vanished, so did the person bearing it.

I died amid that clear, crystalline snowfall.

The muddy red on the ground was my blood cooling in the snow.

The rosy red above the clouds was the fairy’s sacred robe, bright as dawn.

…

…

No.

Hadn’t I died?

The realization struck me. Why did my surroundings look like the Zhu family’s cellar?

And why was my body free of the cold, corrosive chill of the demon-servant brand?

Had I truly come back to life?

Then what were these words?

I pretended to stare blankly as I studied them. After piecing together their fragments, I finally understood.

I was the only mortal in a tragic xianxia romance, a lowly tool placed between its heroine, Zhu Miaoyin, and its hero, the Demon Lord Mo Lin.

These words—live comments, they called them—came from another world.

Their writers savored the great romance between immortal and demon, and they possessed a power beyond even the gods: by spending money, they could alter this world.

The cellar was pitch-black, save for a thread of light slipping through a crack at the entrance.

As the rat charged toward me, I resisted the urge to strangle it. Instead, I edged aside until that sliver of light fell across my face.

The comments, which had been gleefully waiting for the rat to frighten me into tears, went blank.

Then the screen exploded.

—The second female lead is stunning! She looks like the goddess I never got over.

—Mom, I finally understand how true beauty can’t be hidden by plain clothes and a wooden hairpin.

—Aaaah, how could anyone let a rat bite a beauty’s toes? Let me do it instead. Kidding! Mostly.

Just before the rat leaped onto me, it abruptly froze, then fled into the darkness.

Another comment swept past.

—Who was bored enough to put a rat in there? I paid to remove it. I want to see a beautiful, tragic fairy cry.

I turned my face into the darkness, let the corner of my mouth curl unseen, and allowed a single tear to slide from my eye.

Was this face beautiful?

Of course it was. In my previous life, why else would the Demon Lord have ordered a mortal like me to seduce an immortal master? He wanted his little lover to see that the man she adored was as worldly as anyone else.

Hatred surged through me at the memory. I hurriedly glanced at the comments, but fortunately the audience had seen nothing. They were still obsessed with the half-glimpse of my face.

They could not read my thoughts. I relaxed a little.

And a detailed plan began to take shape.

A noise sounded above me. Fierce midday sunlight poured into the cellar, making me raise a hand over my eyes. Several pairs of arms seized me and hauled me outside.

“Xueyi, I will ask you one more time,” Madam Zhu said impatiently. “Will you marry him or not? Surely you have thought it through by now.”

The comments were confused.

The sunlight stung tears from my eyes, and I remembered.

In my previous life, I alone had survived the demons’ massacre of the Zhu family because I had refused to marry the husband Madam Zhu chose for me and had been locked in the cellar.

Back then, I had only said that I would not marry him.

This time, I looked up through brimming tears. “Mother, if I were your own daughter like Miaoyin, would you still force me to marry a man whose seven previous wives all died?”

The comments had been saying, Would marriage kill her? Why is she so stubborn? Is the second female lead a gold digger? Hahahaha! Gold diggers are the worst. No wonder she’s the villain.

Now they changed.

—It’s bad enough that he’s cursed his wives, but seven of them are already dead, and she’s still forcing a girl to marry him?

—Wait. Isn’t our darling Miaoyin’s mother supposed to be gentle? Why is she acting like this?

—A mother who loves only darling Miaoyin and treats the villainess like dirt. Love that for her.

—What the hell is wrong with the person above?

Madam Zhu sneered when she saw that I dared question her. “We let you borrow a legitimate daughter’s title, and now you think you’re important? What are you? How dare you compare yourself to Miaoyin?”

My eyes reddened. “I ask for nothing extravagant. I only beg Mother to leave me a path to life. I would rather marry an ordinary man and live in poverty.”

I had added the part about poverty after seeing the accusations that I was greedy. Sure enough, the audience’s attitude softened further.

Madam Zhu glanced at a maid. Understanding at once, the woman stepped forward and slapped me twice.

I had long grown used to such humiliation. But this time, before an audience, I magnified three parts genuine pain into seven.

“Mother!”

“Zhu Xueyi, you should be grateful you were allowed to stand in for Miaoyin as the legitimate daughter.” Madam Zhu’s voice dripped with contempt, and I silently hoped she would say something even crueler. “Marry you into some impoverished family? Do you think all the money the Zhu family spent on you was a losing investment?”

“Someone take the eldest young lady back to the cellar. Seal the entrance. Do not let in a single ray of light. She can stay there until she comes to her senses.”

More voices now spoke up for me. Among them were comments urging me to rise and scratch this biased mother’s face. I suppressed the poison in my heart.

With tear-filled eyes, I looked at Madam Zhu, refusing to let the tears fall. “Mother, I am also a daughter of the Zhu family. I am a living person!”

Madam Zhu scoffed. “Think carefully before you speak again. Take the eldest young lady away!”

I was returned to the cellar. This time it was sealed so tightly that neither light nor air could enter.

Madam Zhu likely intended for me to taste the agony of suffocation, never realizing she had given me hope instead.

My plea before her had been three parts performance and seven parts truth. Some comments now defended me, though many remained malicious.

—Evil people torment each other. Watching Madam Zhu bully the woman who hurts darling Miaoyin is so satisfying!

—A mortal concubine’s daughter trying to compare herself to our darling Miaoyin. What a joke.

—So what if she’s mortal? So what if she’s a concubine’s daughter? Does that mean she deserves to die?

—I was about to pity the pretty girl, but the summary says she’ll hurt darling Miaoyin, so all I have to say is: well done, Madam Zhu!

—Honestly, Zhu Xueyi’s face is incredible. She’s gorgeous…

I read every word.

Zhu Miaoyin had appeared before the audience from childhood and enjoyed every advantage. She was their precious darling.

As for me, a mortal branded “vicious” by the plot summary, I had never been a likable character.

My gaze darkened.

Why did every immortal and demon love Zhu Miaoyin? Why did even the audience favor her?

Was it because she always spoke of justice and the common people?

Because of her kindness, honor, and virtue?

What if I learned to act as Zhu Miaoyin did—no, what if I did it even better?

Would the audience love me too? Would they let me live with dignity?

No. I did not even dare hope for dignity.

I wanted only the strength to protect myself.

I wanted to live.