In the grand and lavish private room, an elderly man with graying hair, well past his seventies, sat at the head of the table. To his right were a middle-aged couple and their daughter; to his left, there was an empty seat, followed by an exceptionally handsome and poised young man.

Behind the old gentleman stood a middle-aged butler.

Though the private room was large, it housed only a handful of people—barely enough to count on one hand.

Today was a family dinner between the Zhou and Shi families, and no friends or relatives had been invited. The main purpose of the gathering was for the elders to discuss the engagement between Zhou Jinfeng’s only grandson, Zhou Siyang, and the Shi family’s daughter, Shi Yin.

At this moment, Shi Yin was staring blankly and starry-eyed at Zhou Siyang, who sat across from her engrossed in his phone, completely still like a statue.

“Wu Kang,” the old man spoke, his voice strong and resonant, “when is Chengyuan arriving?”

Just as he asked, the door to the room opened.

A pale-faced Zhou Chengyuan was wheeled in by a young man. He gave a slight nod to those seated and said apologetically in a soft voice, “Sorry, I’m late.”

“No, not at all. Come, have a seat,” Shi Yin’s mother, Tang Yulin, replied with an ingratiating smile.

“Alright, now that everyone’s here,” Zhou Jinfeng waved his hand, “Wu Kang, tell them to start serving the food.”

“Yes, sir,” Wu Kang responded, then left the room with the servant who had pushed Zhou Chengyuan’s wheelchair.

“I think since this is about Yin Yin and Siyang’s future, we should ask them what they think and see when they’d like to get engaged,” Zhou Jinfeng initiated.

Shi Mingyuan nodded in agreement. “I support that.”

Zhou Jinfeng looked at Shi Yin with a gentle smile and asked kindly, “Yin Yin?”

Shi Yin didn’t respond.

Everyone turned their attention to her. Sitting next to her, Tang Yulin quickly reached under the table and pinched Shi Yin’s thigh.

Shi Yin yelped in pain.

Snapping back to reality, she looked around at the unfamiliar faces seated with her and blinked in confusion.

Her face clearly said, “Who am I? Where am I? What’s happening and who are you people?”

“Grandpa is asking you a question. What are your thoughts about the engagement with Siyang?” Tang Yulin furiously gestured at her with her eyes.

Anyone else might’ve thought she was having an eye spasm.

Still dazed, Shi Yin muttered, “Who?”

“Siyang, of course!” Tang Yulin, trying to stay composed, smiled stiffly and motioned subtly towards Zhou Siyang. “Didn’t you always tell me your biggest dream was to marry your Siyang-ge?”

Wait a minute…

Shi Yin frowned. Why did that name sound so familiar?

She looked across the table at the handsome man, narrowed her eyes, and uncertainly asked, “Zhou… Zhou Siyang?”

Zhou Siyang raised an eyebrow. “What?”

It really was Zhou Siyang???

Wasn’t Zhou Siyang… the scumbag male lead from that angsty romance novel she just finished reading???

What the actual hell???

What was going on?

Shi Yin abruptly stood up, startling her mother, who tugged at her sleeve, trying to make her sit back down. But Shi Yin pulled away and clutched her stomach, grimacing in pain as she bowed slightly to the table. “Sorry, I—I need to use the restroom immediately.”

With that, she bolted from the room in her high heels.

She half-ran into the restroom and looked at herself in the mirror—her face was completely different.

Long, silky hair, alluring peach blossom eyes, thick lashes, a high nose bridge, luscious lips, and smooth, porcelain-like skin.

Though she’d been considered attractive in real life, she was nowhere near this drop-dead gorgeous.

Shi Yin pinched her face—hard.

OW! That freaking hurt!

Staring at the red mark on the unfamiliar face in the mirror, Shi Yin finally confirmed the horrifying truth—she had transmigrated into the angsty romance novel she’d just read, into the body of the female lead who happened to share her name.

Normally, Shi Yin avoided tragic novels. Life was hard enough—why read something depressing for fun? She always preferred lighthearted fluff.

But since the heroine shared her name, she made an exception.

It was a cliche-filled, drama-for-drama’s-sake story. The female lead was a once-wealthy heiress facing decline, and the male lead was a rich heir who’d lost his parents young and was raised by his grandfather and sickly uncle. Though a few years apart, they grew up together like childhood sweethearts. The heroine was hopelessly naïve, head-over-heels for Zhou Siyang, who was her whole world. Eventually, the two families arranged a marriage for business, and the heroine married her dream man.

Shi Yin expected the story to turn into a sweet, slow-burn romance. Instead, the evil author introduced a college-era “first love” for the male lead. Zhou Siyang, the scumbag, rekindled his feelings for her and began a double life—stringing along the heroine while sneaking around with his ex.

Shi Yin had been dying for the heroine to rise from the ashes, dump the jerk, and ride off into the sunset.

But no, the spineless heroine ended up pregnant and committed suicide.

Shi Yin was so disgusted, she felt like she’d eaten something rotten. It was maddening.

On a break at her film set, she angrily posted a comment under the novel:

“I wish the author could experience everything the heroine did—just once. Let them feel what a tragic life really is. :)”

So… why the hell did she end up transmigrating instead of the damn author???

Back at the sink, Shi Yin mentally reviewed the plot and analyzed the people she’d just seen.

The white-haired elder must be Zhou Jinfeng, the Zhou family patriarch.

The lavishly dressed middle-aged woman beside her—clearly the flattery-loving, airheaded mom, Tang Yulin.

Next to her was undoubtedly the heroine’s dad, Shi Mingyuan.

The man across the table whom she’d identified earlier was Zhou Siyang. No wonder he was the male lead—he was good-looking.

Too bad he was also human garbage.

As for the man in the wheelchair beside him…

Shi Yin furrowed her brows, thinking hard, and suddenly remembered: it had to be Zhou Chengyuan—the cold, refined, yet decisive second son of the Zhou family.

In the book, he didn’t appear much. Just a few background scenes before he died of a mysterious illness.

No cause was ever given, only that he was frail since childhood and his health deteriorated suddenly.

So he was about to die?

Excellent!

Shi Yin’s eyes lit up with hope.

She could marry Zhou Chengyuan, wait for him to die, and be a widow.

That way, the two families would still be allied, saving her family’s business, and she’d secure a solid escape route.

Best of all—she’d legally become Zhou Siyang’s little aunt!

Sweet, poetic revenge.

She could already imagine the scumbag having to politely call her “Auntie”—how delightful!

Oh, what a little genius she was!

Shi Yin adjusted her expression and stepped out of the restroom, returning to the private room.

She opened the door and put on her best actress face, cheeks slightly flushed and smiling with faint embarrassment. “I’m sorry for being rude earlier. My stomach suddenly felt unwell. I hope Grandpa Zhou won’t mind.”

Zhou Jinfeng chuckled kindly. “It’s nothing. Come, sit. The food’s all here.”

As soon as she sat down, Zhou Jinfeng said again, “Siyang just told us he has no objections to the engagement. Yin Yin, what about you?”

Shi Yin bit her lip, set down her chopsticks, and looked hesitant.

Seeing she had something to say, Zhou Jinfeng encouraged her gently, “Whatever it is, just say it. We’re family—we’ll work it out.”

Shi Yin glanced at Zhou Jinfeng, then turned to Zhou Chengyuan, who was silently spinning his wine glass.

His hands were long-fingered, slim, and elegant—beautiful.

“I…” Shi Yin hesitated, bit her lip, and said in one breath, “Since we’re all here and there are no outsiders, I’ll be straightforward. I think now is the best time to speak up.”

All eyes turned to her. She took a deep breath and, with quiet but determined voice, said: “Actually, I don’t like Siyang-ge.”

Everyone was stunned—even the experienced Zhou Jinfeng looked surprised.

Everyone except the man with the wine glass—Zhou Chengyuan’s face remained unreadable, completely unsurprised.

“All these years, I followed Siyang-ge around only because I wanted to be closer to Uncle Chengyuan. I knew Siyang-ge interacted with him more than anyone else,” Shi Yin looked down, fingers twisting nervously, and added with red eyes, “I’ve always liked Uncle Chengyuan.”

Tang Yulin and Shi Mingyuan looked absolutely shocked. Tang Yulin even started nudging Shi Yin with her foot under the table.

But Shi Yin ignored her, continuing with tearful sincerity under everyone’s stunned gaze.

“I know this confession is unfair to Siyang-ge, and I apologize,” she said, pouring herself a glass of wine and raising it to Zhou Siyang. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have used you just to get close to Uncle Chengyuan, but I couldn’t help it—I like him too much.”

She downed the whole glass in one go.

Then, wiping her mouth, she added pitifully, “And now that Uncle Chengyuan is sick, I don’t want to waste any more time. If you’re all willing, I’d like to marry him. That way, the Zhou and Shi families can still maintain our partnership.”

“I object!” Tang Yulin immediately yelled.

Was her daughter crazy? Marrying a man on his deathbed? How unlucky!

Shi Yin turned to her and let tears fall freely. “Mom, I really love Uncle Chengyuan. I’ll never marry anyone else!”

Tang Yulin was about to argue when Shi Mingyuan quietly squeezed her hand. She sighed in frustration and fell silent.

Zhou Jinfeng thought for a moment, then turned to Zhou Siyang. “Siyang, what do you think?”

The original female lead had followed Zhou Siyang like a puppy, calling him “Siyang-ge” every day. She was obsessed with him.

Zhou Siyang’s feelings toward her? Let’s just say—“not bad.”

Which meant she wasn’t the worst, but definitely not the best.

To him, she was a suitable marriage candidate, not necessarily someone he loved.

He didn’t like her much anyway, and now that she’d spoken up, he wasn’t about to force things.

It was just a marriage alliance—he wasn’t short on options.

Still, being rejected wasn’t exactly pleasant.

He forced a smile and replied politely, “Since Yin Yin feels this way, I’ll respect her decision. Let’s call off the engagement. A forced relationship won’t bring happiness—marrying her when her heart’s not with me would be meaningless.”

Shi Yin thought smugly: At least you’re self-aware, scumbag.

“Chengyuan?” Zhou Jinfeng turned to his younger son.

Privately, he had always hoped Chengyuan could find a wife. But his health had been poor since childhood. Though many girls had shown interest, he’d never wanted to marry.

Now, in his early thirties, he was diagnosed with a mysterious illness that weakened him daily. The doctors couldn’t even identify the cause.

Who would want to marry a dying man?

Still, this was an opportunity.

If the marriage happened, and they were lucky, perhaps there’d even be a child.

That would give this old man some comfort.

But it was a serious decision, and Zhou Jinfeng needed to hear what Chengyuan himself thought.

Zhou Chengyuan, silent since his greeting, slowly lifted his eyes and looked at Shi Yin.

His eyes were pale, but sharp and piercing—his gaze intimidating.

Even in a wheelchair and deathly pale, he exuded overwhelming presence.

After a moment, he spoke calmly: “I’ll give you one last chance. If you want to back out, now’s the time.”