Chapter 1: Seductive Trouble

The expansive bedroom was bright and spacious, its luxurious decor understated by a backdrop of soft gray-white walls that exuded a restrained elegance. The chandelier, crafted from rare emerald shells, added a touch of sophistication to the otherwise subdued opulence.

It mirrored the temperament of the room’s owner.

Tang Xin lay on the plush bed, which felt as soft as lying on clouds. Her mind was foggy with disbelief.

She had inexplicably transmigrated into her own romance novel. Worse, she had become a seductive troublemaker—no, correction, the scheming villainess in the story!

The worst part? After meticulously naming the male and female leads, she had grown lazy when it came to the villainess’s name and simply used her own to fill the gap.

Now, Tang Xin was certain she ended up in this predicament solely because of the identical name.

Karma was a cruel mistress.

The novel in question was her ongoing serialized work, Sweet Wife’s Bliss. Yet, the titular “sweet wife” wasn’t Tang Xin—it was Lu Feisheng, the male lead Yue Yuze’s second wife, his white moonlight, the one who held his heart and soul.

Tang Xin recalled the plot and realized she had arrived at an especially miserable turning point.

This day marked the third month of her contractual marriage with the male lead. It was a year-long marriage of convenience, with clearly defined terms and mutual benefits. As for why they married? She didn’t have the mental bandwidth to ponder it right now.

Because—

Today was the day the rarely-home male lead finally returned. Tang Xin, dressed in sleepwear so revealing it might as well be non-existent, lay on his bed, shamelessly attempting to seduce him.

The result? He mercilessly threw her out the door.

In full view of all the household staff.

Her dignity utterly shattered.

What a disaster.

The more Tang Xin thought about it, the more stifled she felt.

Why had she written such a humiliating scene back then?

And now, here it was, coming back to bite her.

Just as she lamented her misfortune, the situation worsened. The bedroom door opened.

A tall man walked in, carrying a black briefcase in one hand and a recently discarded suit jacket in the other. His figure, as upright and elegant as a runway model’s, was paired with a strikingly handsome face devoid of flaws. Years of sternness and formality had sharpened his features into a cold, unapproachable perfection.

Yue Yuze stepped into the room, his already icy expression darkening further when his gaze landed on the woman sprawled on his bed. A suffocating tension filled the air, his entire being emanating an oppressive chill.

Damn it…

How could anyone tolerate a man like this?

Tang Xin questioned her sanity for ever creating such a ruthless, emotionally stunted male lead.

No thanks.

You’re not my male lead.

But the oppressive silence gave her no time to dwell. She quickly scrambled off the bed.

The room’s decor was minimalist, except for one particularly provocative feature—a large mirror beside the bed. When writing this setting, Tang Xin had envisioned it adding an extra layer of… ambiance for the male and female leads’ more intimate moments.

Now, however, it served a different purpose entirely.

Ignoring the man standing by the door, whose narrowed phoenix eyes glinted with danger, Tang Xin casually walked to the mirror and studied her reflection.

A woman about 5’6” tall, with snow-white skin, a delicate oval face, finely arched brows, and a small cherry-like mouth. Her features were exquisitely beautiful. And her figure—well, she was the epitome of loli charm with a certain exaggerated allure.

When crafting the villainess, Tang Xin had drawn on her intuition as a woman, and perhaps subconsciously, her self-image had seeped into the character.

As a result, this villainess bore a striking resemblance to her—especially her figure.

“She’s even an upgraded version of me…” Tang Xin marveled at the mirror.

Her chest? A full cup size bigger.
Her waist? A whole inch slimmer.
Her face? Softer and more delicate.

Such a stunning beauty—why on earth would she waste herself on self-destruction?

The entertainment industry was full of dashing young idols and charming older men. Why not enjoy herself with them instead of obsessing over Yue Yuze, the human iceberg?

Since she was here, she might as well adapt to the situation.

Besides, who knew when she’d return to her original world? Until then, her survival depended on avoiding entanglements with the male and female leads.

Tang Xin turned and nonchalantly picked up a robe from the bed, slipping it on. She faced the approaching Yue Yuze, whose expression was as dark as a storm cloud, and flashed him a radiant smile.

After all, no one hits a smiling face.

Before Yue Yuze could lash out, Tang Xin said cheerfully, “Mr. Yue, the mirror in your bedroom is amazing. It makes me look so much better than the one in my room. I just came over to check it out—don’t mind me. Goodnight, bye-bye!”

Without waiting for a response, she sashayed out of the room, her steps confident and carefree, as if she truly had come just to admire the mirror.

Yue Yuze’s phoenix eyes narrowed, his gaze following her retreating figure.

What new game was this woman playing?

Did she really think switching tactics would catch his attention?

Foolish woman!

Tang Xin muttered to herself as she returned to her room, “I know exactly what you’re thinking, Yue Yuze.”

After all, he was her creation.

Who could know him better than her?

The male lead’s most frequent comment about this kind of female supporting character was: “Hah! Foolish woman!”

But honestly, the supporting character was pretty foolish.

A man who doesn’t even call you by name, instead referring to you coldly as “Miss Tang,” and expects you to address him as “Mr. Yue,” could never have the slightest affection for you.

Why would you sacrifice your whole life for such a hopeless cause?

“Actually, you can’t blame the supporting character—it’s my fault. I wrote this. Blame me, blame me.”

Tang Xin muttered under her breath as she made her way back to her room.

“Alternate world system initialized.”

“Alternate world system initialized.”

“Holy—!” Tang Xin jumped at the sudden voice, looking around in a panic. “What the hell is that?”

But there was nothing visible that could have made the sound.

Silence returned just as abruptly.

She bit her lip, scratching her head in confusion.

“The alternate world system is now fully operational. Custom system at your service, Tang Xin.”

“Damn it—did my novel turn supernatural after I transmigrated? What are you? Show yourself!”

“Please remain calm, transmigrator. I am your system, residing in your consciousness. Only you are aware of my existence, and only you can sense me,” said the soft, almost emotionless voice in her mind.

“Hold on… So, you’ve done other missions before? Do you get a new name for each one?”

The system: What a ridiculous transmigrator… Your focus is completely off-topic!

“You could say that,” the system replied robotically. “Now, pay attention to what I’m about to say. Because your soul wandered, and you share an uncanny similarity with the supporting character ‘Tang Xin’ you created, you ended up transmigrating into her role. In this book—this alternate world—I represent the alternate world’s will and have a question for you.”

“What’s the question? Go ahead and ask.” Tang Xin, now understanding what this was, relaxed entirely and flopped onto the soft, comfortable sofa.

If something as absurd as transmigration could happen, what other nonsense couldn’t she handle?

“Do you want to stay in this world forever, or would you like to return to your original world?”

“Can I assume things for a moment? If… if I choose to stay, is that possible?” What if things turned out better here?

“It’s possible,” the system replied before continuing, “but based on your original storyline, the supporting character ‘Tang Xin’ ends up dead. You would also die.”

Tang Xin: …Then why the hell did you even say it was possible?!

“Fine, I want to go back to my original world.”

“Understood. I’ll activate the option to return to your original world.”

“Wait—there’s an option?” Tang Xin was stunned.

“Of course. Different choices lead to different tasks,” the system explained. “If you wish to return to your world, you must follow the alternate world’s rules, complete daily tasks, and fulfill the ultimate task. Once completed, you can return. I’ll notify you when tasks arise.”

“Hey, what tasks? Why didn’t you explain earlier?” Tang Xin demanded.

Silence.

Complete silence.

An infinite, suffocating silence.

“Seriously?! What kind of scam system is this?!”

“No negative reviews or insults to the system are allowed. Violations will result in severe punishment,” the system’s voice returned.

“Hey, Little Beauty, don’t go. Let’s talk more, okay?” Tang Xin tried responding with her thoughts.

But the shameless system went radio silent, no matter how much sweet talk she tried.

Exhausted, Tang Xin gave up, crawled back into bed, and buried her head under the covers for a deep sleep.

–

The next morning.

Tang Xin was awoken by a phone ringing. Groggy, she fumbled around under her pillow and found a phone, pressing the answer button. A worried voice came through on the other end.

“Tang Tang, where are you?”

A young man’s voice—quite magnetic.

But—

“Who are you?”

Do I know you? Why are you using my nickname so casually?

There was a moment of silence on the other end before—

“Who am I? Tang Xin, are you still half-asleep? It’s me, your father!”

Tang Xin jolted awake, clutching the phone as she tried to recall the storyline.

Father… her father?

“Oh dad… You sound so young,” she said nervously.

Then it hit her.

Wait. Didn’t the supporting character’s backstory say her parents were already dead, and she only had a grandmother left to rely on?

The person on the other end laughed in exasperation.

“You’re unbelievable… I’m Qi Shu. Did you forget? Get up already! You’ve got a shoot this morning. I’ll come pick you up!”

Qi Shu?

Tang Xin’s eyes widened.

The original Tang Xin’s agent…

Yes, that was right. Tang Xin was part of the entertainment industry—a bottom-tier actress, barely better than an extra.

Why did someone as insignificant as her even have a manager? It was entirely because of Qi Shu.

Qi Shu and Tang Xin had been college classmates. After graduation, Qi Shu, who had secretly been in love with Tang Xin, planned to confess. However, Tang Xin met Yue Yuze and, for various reasons, entered into a contract marriage with him. Most people didn’t know Tang Xin was married to the business tycoon Yue Yuze, but Qi Shu, her “close buddy,” was in on it.

Their feelings for each other ended without a beginning.

After Tang Xin’s self-destructive behavior, Qi Shu left the entertainment industry, disheartened and heartbroken, and returned to his hometown to grow tea.

“I’m sorry, Ashu. I was still half-asleep earlier…”

“You just woke up? Did you forget you have a shoot this morning? Hurry up and get ready. I’ll come pick you up!”