Chapter 1: Secret Marriage

“Ahhhhh Hao Hao——!!”

“Lin Hao baby, look over here! Look at me, baby, ahhh!!”

“Ji Linhao!! Look at ME!! Don’t you dare look at any other woman!!”

Inside Beijing’s Workers’ Stadium, the concert of red-hot idol Ji Linhao had reached its peak.
The dazzling stage lights, meticulously prepared over three months, created a spectacular visual show.
Tens of thousands of fans screamed themselves hoarse as they chanted the man’s name.

On the inner field, Ruan Ruan struggled to hold up a huge LED sign. Her voice was already gone from yelling, but her eyes stayed locked on the stage.

Onstage, Ji Linhao casually took off his jacket and sat down at the piano. With one elegant finger pressed to his lips, he smiled and made a “shh” gesture to the camera.

Another wave of frenzied screaming erupted.

Then, like clockwork, fans quickly settled down in sync, silently awaiting his performance.

After singing for half the show, Ji Linhao’s voice had gone slightly husky—paired with the slow, mellow tune, it was incredibly sexy.

Ruan Ruan’s fingers trembled from holding the sign.

Four years.

She had loved the man on that stage for four whole years.
This year, she finally decided to see her idol perform live.

But Ji Linhao had taken the entertainment industry by storm. Tickets for his concerts sold out in seconds. Scalpers resold them for five-digit prices.

Ruan Ruan had just graduated and barely stabilized her first job. Rent was covered by her parents—she couldn’t ask them for money just to chase an idol.

So she saved every penny for three months, finally managing to buy a ticket for tonight’s show.

Even then, it was a standing ticket in the inner field. No one knew how many instant noodles she’d eaten to make it happen.

“Next up is a song I just wrote,” Ji Linhao said on stage.
He rose from the piano, lightly jumped onto the central lift stage.
“This is the first time I’m performing it—dedicated to all of you who love me.”

The crowd erupted again—even Ruan Ruan lost it.

People in the inner field surged forward, crushing in from all sides.
Ruan Ruan could barely breathe, ignoring the odd feeling in her chest, lifting her sign again and screaming her idol’s name.

A new song, oh my god! If I die tonight, it’ll be worth it!!

Ji Linhao leaned into the mic and chuckled softly:

“The song’s called ‘Reaching for the Stars.’
Tonight’s stars are like the light in your eyes—
Thank you for being the ones who lit up my life.”

As the song began, everyone swayed their glow sticks and signs in rhythm, silent and in awe.

Ruan Ruan finally caught her breath, eyes fixed on her idol as tears welled up.

Then suddenly—her head spun.

Probably from screaming too much earlier, she figured.

She paid it no mind, immersing herself in the song. When it ended, Ji Linhao removed his in-ears, bowed deeply, then blew a kiss to the crowd.

Screams exploded once more, echoing across the stadium.

The inner field was the wildest. Ruan Ruan was pushed forward by the stampede of excitement.

Security guards formed a line at the front, but Ruan Ruan was trapped between them and the surging fans, struggling to breathe.

Suddenly, her stomach—emptied by weeks of instant noodles—seized in pain.

Her vision blackened, and her legs gave out.

Security lines broke under the crush of fans, and Ruan Ruan was shoved forward—falling hard.

Am I really going to die like this? she thought in that moment of pitch black.

She was so young. There were so many things she hadn’t done.

In her next life, she vowed:
She’d earn enough to buy out an entire concert.
She’d marry her idol.
She’d live the dream.

She refused to accept this ending.

…

When consciousness returned, it was deathly quiet around her.

Ruan Ruan turned over in bed and opened her eyes—only to see a trembling, chubby man standing beside her.

The chubby man’s face looked very familiar to Ruan Ruan, though she couldn’t quite place him at the moment. As she tried to sit up, he quickly stuffed a pillow behind her back. “You’re awake?”

Ruan Ruan sat up, dazed for a few seconds, then asked, “Has the concert ended?”

“What concert?” The man looked just as puzzled. He asked cautiously, “Are you feeling unwell anywhere? Should I call the nurse?”

Only then did Ruan Ruan realize she was in a hospital room.

She glanced around. The spacious room was fully equipped, with a lounge, entertainment area, and even a guest section. It was practically a luxury single apartment.

“Where is this?”

The man gave her the name of a well-known hospital in Beijing—infamous for how hard it was to get an appointment, especially in neurology and cardiology. It was also notoriously expensive.

Ruan Ruan’s face paled. After a pause, she asked in disbelief, voice trembling, “Why… why did you bring me to such an expensive hospital?”

Remembering the pitiful balance in her bank account, she felt the world go dark again and nearly fainted a second time.

“Miss Ruan, you collapsed suddenly. We thought your old illness flared up again, so we rushed you here.” The man couldn’t figure out what this heiress was thinking, so he answered carefully. “I’ve already messaged Brother Lin. He’ll be here soon. Just hang in there.”

“Who’s Brother Lin?” Ruan Ruan blinked.

The moment the words left her mouth, she realized something was wrong.

She had assumed her voice sounded odd because she had screamed too much at the concert, but she didn’t feel any discomfort in her throat now.

Her voice had changed.

She instinctively reached for her neck, only then realizing something was clenched in her hand.

Following her gaze, the man noticed what she was holding and sighed. “Want me to put the marriage certificate away for you?”

Ruan Ruan stiffly raised her hand. “Whose marriage certificate is this?”

“Yours.”

Mine? Who the hell got married?!

“Who am I?” she asked, unable to hide her shock.

Here we go again, the man thought. Another episode of amnesia. You’d think she’d be tired of pulling this move by now.

When Brother Lin arrived, this headache would be his to deal with.

With a sigh, he humored her. “You’re Ruan Yu, the heiress of Shangying Media, and Brother Lin’s legally wedded wife.”

Ruan Ruan’s fingers trembled as she opened the marriage certificate. The photo inside showed an exceptionally good-looking couple—like a perfect match made in heaven. The girl had long black hair cascading down like silk, eyes dark as ink, and delicate features shaped into a shy, affectionate smile. She looked utterly smitten with the man beside her.

Then Ruan Ruan looked at the man.

At that very moment, the door to the hospital room opened with a calm push.

The man in the photo had a cold, stunning appearance—dark, deep eyes devoid of warmth. He looked like a person sculpted from ice: “As radiant as starlight in winter, sharp as frost upon a blade.”

Don’t ask Ruan Ruan how she thought of that line—it was a description fans often used for Duan Lin.

As a diehard fan of Ji Linhao, Ruan Ruan had been feuding with Duan Lin’s fandom for years. She knew their fan lingo by heart and could throw it back at them with venom—mocking their idol with lines like, “As lifeless as a corpse, as dull as a dead fish.”

Now, staring at the face in the photo and the name printed beside it—Duan Lin—she felt like she’d been struck by lightning.

“Brother Lin, you’re finally here!” the man sighed in relief and quietly exited the room.

Hearing the voice, Ruan Ruan gripped the marriage certificate in a daze and looked toward the door.

The man stepped in wearing a black trench coat, cap, and mask. Once inside the warm room, he casually removed the coat and hat.

His proportions were perfect—broad shoulders, narrow waist, long, straight legs encased in tailored pants.

Ruan Ruan stared at his tall, lean figure and suddenly felt an ominous sense of familiarity.

“I heard from Shao Li that you don’t recognize me anymore?”

Even his voice was maddeningly familiar.

Standing by the bed, the man pulled off his mask, revealing a face as striking as a painting. His gaze swept over the marriage certificate in her hand, and he commented with a hint of mockery, “It’s just a marriage license. Did that really make you faint?”

Ruan Ruan recognized him instantly.

“Duan Lin?!” she blurted.

“So you do remember me.” Duan Lin seemed completely used to her pretending to have amnesia for attention. His tone was indifferent. “Since you’re awake, I won’t stay. I’m leaving for a film shoot tomorrow and won’t be back in Beijing for a month. If anything comes up, contact Shao Li. Don’t expect me to come running back to coax you, understand?”

“And about our marriage—” he added flatly, “It’s just a staged agreement for the elders. Don’t take it seriously.”

Ruan Ruan said nothing.

Normally, this would be the part where she threw a fit, screamed, cried, or went to the elders threatening to end it all. But today, she was uncharacteristically quiet.

Duan Lin frowned. “What’s wrong?”

Ruan Ruan was still too stunned to speak.

She’d read plenty of novels before, but reading was one thing—living through such an absurd plot was a whole different story.

She hadn’t even processed the fact that she’d transmigrated into the body of a rich heiress. Now she had to deal with the added bombshell that she was married to her idol’s archrival.

After years of bashing Duan Lin online, Ruan Ruan knew his career trajectory like the back of her hand.

In recent years, two male celebrities had risen to stardom and divided the entertainment world’s spotlight—Ji Linhao, her beloved heartthrob, and Duan Lin.

But unlike Ji Linhao, who had started from a talent show and climbed to fame through hard work, Duan Lin’s popularity had seemed to explode out of nowhere.

His first appearance in the public eye had been through a supporting role in a film.

The film was a hit, crafted by a renowned director and screenwriter. Despite the star-studded cast, it was Duan Lin—a total newcomer—who landed a key supporting role and catapulted to fame overnight.

From that point on, Duan Lin kept landing roles in major film and TV productions and appeared on several wildly popular variety shows. With his flawless looks and solid professional skills, his rise to fame was meteoric—he was hailed as the “purple star” of the entertainment world.

Anyone with eyes could tell Duan Lin had powerful backing.

In theory, Ruan Ruan’s idol Ji Linhao was a singing-dancing performer, while Duan Lin was more focused on acting—different career paths that shouldn’t have overlapped much.

But the two were of similar age, and starting two years ago, Duan Lin even dipped his toes into the music scene, releasing two solo albums. His fans were thrilled, organizing collective efforts to boost his chart rankings, and unexpectedly, he ended up topping several music charts—beating Ji Linhao.

And just like that, the fanbases clashed.

The conflict between fans, from initial tension to all-out war, is a story for another time. In short, the two camps had been at each other’s throats for years, and Ruan Ruan had fought fiercely on the front lines, hoarding mountains of dirt on Duan Lin.

But now? Those so-called “scandals” were nothing.

Ruan Ruan felt a jolt of excitement, though her mind was still reeling.

Duan Lin was secretly married!

Now that was an actual bombshell!

There’s a saying in fandom: “If your idol falls in love, it’s a beheading offense.” While extreme, it shows how damaging a romance—let alone a secret marriage—can be to a fanbase.

And by the looks of it, Duan Lin had been pressured into marriage by a rich heiress.

Staring at the person she used to bash endlessly, Ruan Ruan felt conflicted.
“You’re really married?”

“It’d be more accurate to say, we’re married,” Duan Lin replied indifferently, the corners of his eyes slightly curved in a faint smirk, tinged with mockery. “Is marrying me really that exciting? You passed out as soon as you got the certificate, and now you’re still clutching it like your life depends on it?”

Ruan Ruan suddenly remembered something and reached for the phone on the bedside table. Using the black screen as a mirror, she finally confirmed the truth.

The face staring back at her was identical to the one on the marriage certificate photo.

She was now Ruan Yu.

Just moments ago, she still thought of herself as Ruan Ruan—the fangirl who spent her days dragging her rival online. She hadn’t expected to wake up as the very person secretly married to Duan Lin.

The same person who, if this secret ever got out, would be torn apart by Duan Lin’s millions of fans.

Ruan Yu suddenly found it hard to breathe.

Duan Lin didn’t seem to notice her reaction. He calmly put his mask back on.
“I’ve got things to do. Shao Li will handle your discharge papers. Take care of yourself.”

By the time Ruan Yu snapped out of it, Duan Lin was already gone. The assistant from earlier came in and peeled her an apple.

Only now did Ruan Yu recognize him—Shao Li, Duan Lin’s assistant who always looked fierce enough to scare children.

Back when she was on the front lines of the fan wars, Ruan Ruan once mocked her rival fanbase:
“The staff around Duan Lin always look like they’re part of some underground mafia. Let’s not pretend our little ‘mafia prince’ is some humble, low-key type. That image is going to crumble one day, mark my words.”

And now, the very same Shao Li, who used to look like he could eat someone alive, was standing beside her bed, cautiously watching her expression.

This was surreal.

The phone on the nightstand clearly belonged to the heiress version of her. The lock screen was a high-definition, photoshopped picture of Duan Lin.

Ruan Yu hesitated, muttered a quick apology, and unlocked the phone with facial recognition.

The screen showed today’s date: October 5, 3:00 PM.

Ruan Yu froze.

She remembered clearly—Ji Linhao’s concert was scheduled to begin at 7:00 PM on October 5. That meant it hadn’t started yet.

She opened Ji Linhao’s fan group on Weibo, and sure enough, the fans were still enthusiastically discussing the upcoming concert.

【Calling all Siji’s! We’ll be handing out banners and fan gear at Entrance A—don’t miss out!】
【Ahhhh how many stage outfits will he have tonight? Will he wear the black tux again? I loved that starlight one from last time!! 】
【I’m so nervous I could cry [cry][cry][cry]】

Ruan Yu then searched for her old fan account.

No results.

She tried calling her parents’ phone numbers, hands trembling.

Out of service.

Ruan Yu sat motionless in the hospital bed, a creeping chill running from her head to her toes.

The old Ruan Ruan was completely gone from this world.