Chapter 1: Oh Sh*t, I’ve Transmigrated!

“You wanna repeat what you just said? Five yuan for a night? What do you take me for, Lin Zhaodi—a john? And what does that make you?”

The man on the bed had a strikingly handsome face, the top buttons of his military uniform undone, revealing a chiseled chest, half-covered, half-exposed—an archetypal, cold and aloof dreamboat.

His expression was tinged with restrained anger, his voice cool and sharp, the corners of his mouth curled in open mockery.

Lin Wanjun sat disheveled on the floor, stunned, head pounding.

She wasn’t sure if she was bleeding, but checking for injuries was the last thing on her mind right now.

After spending twenty-four straight hours in the lab as a 5+3 medical grunt^[1]slang for someone who went through China’s 5+3 medical training system, then pulling an all-nighter catching up on the latest academic gossip, had she really just dropped dead in front of her laptop—only to transmigrate into a novel with a crash of thunder?

The stalemate had lasted a full five minutes. Lin Wanjun had gone from pure panic to the grim realization that she had no choice but to accept reality.

Yup. She had transmigrated into a book.

She had transmigrated into a melodramatic military romance novel titled Hot-Blooded Wife of the Seventies—and worse, she’d landed in the body of the brainless, drama-chasing villainess Lin Zhaodi.

In the original story, Lin Zhaodi was a drop-dead gorgeous femme fatale with a big chest and a tiny brain—an over-the-top “younger-brother addict” if there ever was one.

First, she leveraged the life-saving bond between their grandparents to forcefully marry Song Zhanjin, a third-generation military officer. Then, like her brain had been trampled by a thousand donkeys, she shamelessly demanded a massive betrothal gift—only to hand every last cent over to her worthless little brother.

And that wasn’t even the worst part.

On their wedding night, Lin Zhaodi made an even more outrageous demand: if Song Zhanjin wanted to fulfill his marital “duty,” he had to pay her five yuan first. No money, no touching.

Disgusted, the groom shoved her away and tried to leave. Lin Zhaodi attempted a dramatic fake fall to trap him—only to flop gracelessly onto the floor and pass out cold.

And that was precisely the moment Lin Wanjun, who’d dropped dead from overwork, woke up to find herself in the villainess’s body.

It was like absurdity itself had opened the front door and welcomed her home.

A seasoned reader of countless web novels, Lin Wanjun had never seen a side character so monumentally stupid.

Her in-laws were kind, upright, and genuinely cared for her—yet the original Lin Zhaodi repaid their warmth with selfish cruelty and drove them to heartbreak.

The male lead had genuinely wanted to build a life with her, yet she’d treated him like a clueless fool…

Thinking back to the villainess’s horrifically dysfunctional family, Lin Wanjun would rather throw herself at the ground in surrender and cling tightly to the sturdy thigh of this third-generation military officer.

After all, those who recognize the situation and adapt are the truly wise!

Just as Song Zhanjin, face grim, got out of bed to leave, Lin Wanjun launched herself into a dramatic knee-slide in his direction…

And the next second, time seemed to freeze.

Having no prior experience with such a maneuver, Lin Wanjun overcommitted. Her foxlike, stunning face crashed squarely—fiercely and accurately—into the crotch of Young Master Song.

Silence fell across the military compound that night.

Song Zhanjin, twenty-five years old, had faced life-and-death battles on the front lines more times than he could count. Wounds big and small littered his body. He’d long thought himself forged into an unbreakable warrior.

But right now…

Hiss— That seriously f**king hurt.

Was this woman insane?

Just because he wouldn’t pay to sleep with her, did she really think weaponizing her face was the answer? Was she trying to wipe out the Song family line?!

The pain was real—but so was the strange tension now hanging in the air.

Just then, the door was suddenly pushed open.

“Zhaodi, here’s all the gift money we collected from the wedding—ah! I’m so sorry! I’ll leave right away!”

Mother-in-law Li Yuetang had barely stepped inside when she saw her son standing while her daughter-in-law was kneeling in front of him. The scene looked—no matter how you angled it—completely indecent.

As if electrocuted, Li Yuetang flung the stack of cash onto the floor, spun around, and tried to flee. But in her panic, she slammed headfirst into the doorframe with a loud clang!

Bang!

Madam Li knocked herself out cold!

Seeing this, Lin Wanjun didn’t have time to argue with Song Zhanjin anymore. Her instincts as a physician kicked in, and she darted forward in a swift, practiced motion to administer first aid.

Her heart rate was elevated, but breathing was normal. A laceration on the forehead—minor bleeding. Apply clean gauze and press to stop the bleeding…

“What are you standing there for? Go get the gauze!”

Turning to see Song Zhanjin still frozen in place, Lin Wanjun shot him a glare and barked sharply.

By the time Song Zhanjin dashed upstairs with the household first aid kit, Li Yuetang had already regained consciousness.

The very first thing she did upon sitting up was apologize to her daughter-in-law.

“Zhaodi, I’m so sorry. I saw the door was open and thought you two hadn’t gone to bed yet, so I…”

“No matter what, it was my fault. I shouldn’t have barged in without knocking. I’ll be more careful from now on!”

Li Yuetang never relied on her status as an elder to put on airs—she was someone who clearly distinguished right from wrong.

Hearing her speak so gently and sincerely, Lin Wanjun felt an unexpected pang in her chest.

Her own upbringing in the modern world hadn’t exactly been rosy. Raised in a single-parent household, she had never truly experienced what it was like to be respected or understood.

And now, Li Yuetang was apologizing—genuinely—just for accidentally walking in on them? That kind of sincerity nearly brought Lin Wanjun to tears.

The only reason she’d even managed to finish reading this over-the-top, melodramatic novel was because of the warmth of the male lead’s family.

She had longed—dreamed—of living in a household as kind and understanding as this one.

So what exactly was the original villainess dissatisfied with? Why was she so determined to ruin everything?

Seeing Lin Wanjun’s eyes redden, Li Yuetang grew flustered and stammered nervously.

Of course. She’d barged in on something so private between husband and wife. What daughter-in-law wouldn’t be upset?

“Daughter, don’t cry, please… I… I didn’t mean to…”

The more Li Yuetang tried to comfort her, the harder Lin Wanjun’s tears fell.

“No, it’s not you—I’m not upset with you at all!”

Hearing that, Li Yuetang’s gaze shifted and landed squarely on her son.

Not upset with me?
Then that means… she’s mad at Song Zhanjin?!

Wait a second—could that compromising position she walked in on not have been voluntary at all?

Did that little bastard Song Zhanjin force her?!

Hss—
Who the hell taught him to “treat” his wife like that?!
Had he gone completely rogue?!

That mother’s glare was sharp as a blade, and it made every hair on Song Zhanjin’s body stand on end.

What the hell are you looking at me like that for?! I didn’t even touch her!

Before you came in, she was fiercer than a rabid tiger! She launched herself at me like a beast and nearly crushed me with her face!

And I didn’t even complain! What more do you want from me?!

Before Song Zhanjin could get a word in, his mother launched herself at him like a tiger pouncing from a mountain.

She pummeled him with fists and kicks.

“How dare you bully my daughter-in-law! How dare you lay a hand on a woman!”

The commotion upstairs grew loud enough to draw attention. Soon, the head of the military district’s political department—Song Zhanjin’s father, Song Mingcheng—came marching up the stairs.

“What’s going on? It’s your wedding night! Yuetang, have you lost your mind?”

As she kept walloping her son, Li Yuetang yelled out her complaint.

“Lost my mind? Your son just got married and he’s already starting a mutiny! He made that sweet girl cry on their first night! Tell me, shouldn’t he be beaten?”

One second, Song Mingcheng was prepared to mediate. The next, he rolled up his sleeves.

“Wife, step aside. Leave the beating to me—this kind of heavy-duty work suits me better. I’ve got more experience.”

Standing off to the side, Lin Wanjun watched the domineering soldier male lead of the novel floundering helplessly under the joint assault of his mother and father.

She couldn’t help but burst out laughing with a soft pfft.

Honestly?
Transmigrating into a novel didn’t feel so bad after all.