Chapter One: Crossing Over and Facing the Knife

Mingshuang’s roommate, Cheng Yu, was a new author on River Chu Novel Network. His daily routine consisted of endless typing, hoping that someday his name would appear on the rankings. As a decent single young man without a girlfriend, Cheng Yu didn’t write mindless wish-fulfillment stories about male protagonists with golden fingers circling the globe and amassing harems. Instead, he was obsessed with crafting tales of female leads who were domineering, cool, and dazzling, ascending to the pinnacle of life. He was a refreshing anomaly among male authors, utterly unpretentious and nothing like those typical straight male writers out there.

As the model national roommate, Mingshuang always supported Cheng Yu’s creative journey, regularly supplying him with nutrient drinks and gifts. Cheng Yu’s latest serialized book was titled "The Trials of a Fairy," set in a traditional cultivation world. The dazzling female protagonist possessed extraordinary talent, mastered divine arts, and battled divine beasts, stirring up chaos across the land. Along the way, she attracted a legion of handsome men, eager to join her adventures, culminating in a story where a grand family happily dominates the world.

After finishing the entire novel, Mingshuang quietly typed three dots in the comment section, glanced at the floor number and realized he was at 250L. He rolled his eyes and dutifully watered his roommate’s work with nutrient drinks, admitting that Cheng Yu was essentially writing fantasy in the guise of romance, just swapping the genders.

Meanwhile, Cheng Yu had just finished "The Trials of a Fairy." He cashed his manuscript fee to recharge his game account, then used the remaining money to buy a pile of discounted snacks, intending to share them with his loyal fan, Mingshuang.

When Cheng Yu returned to the dorm carrying bags of snacks, Mingshuang was sprawled out on the bed like a salted fish, the computer screen still frozen on the final chapter of "The Fairy."

The two brothers soon began munching on chips, discussing which male lead in the novel had won the heroine’s heart, given she had a harem of millions.

“Ling Xiaozi is our designated male lead. Look at how he sheltered the heroine before she grew strong, even risking offending the Demon Lord. That’s true love,” Author Cheng Yu said, biting into a chip.

“But after the heroine defected from the Immortal Sect, didn’t she spend all her time with the Demon Lord? They even dual cultivated, and her first time was given to the Demon Lord,” Reader Mingshuang retorted, crunching chips.

“Oh, well, I’m the author, I call the shots. Anyway, the heroine builds a harem in the end, and Ling Xiaozi is the main wife.”

They argued back and forth for quite some time. Suddenly, Mingshuang felt a sharp pain in his abdomen, cold sweat breaking out all over, forcing him to clutch his belly and squat down. Cheng Yu was about to ask what was wrong when he too felt a stabbing pain in his stomach.

“What the—?” Cheng Yu cursed, glancing at the half-empty bag of chips in his hand, and realized they had expired that very day.

“The chips… are poisoned…” Mingshuang collapsed on the floor, curling into a ball, his consciousness fading, finally blacking out.

Seeing his roommate wiped out, Cheng Yu internally cursed his decision to buy discounted snacks, then his eyes rolled back and he lost consciousness too, slumping to the floor, still clutching the expired chips.

...

“Senior brother, wake up, please… sob sob… it’s all my fault you got hurt… sob sob sob sob sob sob sob sob sob…”

In a haze, Mingshuang felt unbearable pain in his abdomen; every breath sent waves of agony through his body—a torment both physical and mental. The incessant sobbing beside his ear made his head feel like it might explode, another form of torture.

Enduring both pains, Mingshuang irritably wondered if the person sobbing would ever stop; anyone would think they were mourning the dead.

Mingshuang’s morning temper wasn’t especially severe, but he could feel his anger rising with every sob. Finally, as the enemy’s hiccuping sobs reached their peak, he furrowed his brow and opened his eyes, clicking his tongue impatiently and preparing to kick the whimpering nuisance.

He tried to bend his legs to kick off the blanket but was hit with unbearable pain. His anger shifted immediately. Mingshuang gently pulled the blanket away and looked down, only to find a bandage wrapped around his abdomen. Blood was seeping through the bandaged area, probably because his attempt to kick the blanket had reopened the wound.

Mingshuang thought back carefully—he’d just eaten some poisonous chips, hadn’t he? Why was his stomach cut open? Was it surgery?

He wanted to call for a doctor or nurse, but looking around, he realized he was lying on a wooden bed draped with layers of gauze curtains, the furnishings in the room all antique.

Well-versed in melodramatic tropes thanks to his roommate’s influence, Mingshuang swallowed nervously and looked at the whimpering figure at the bedside—a young girl with her hair in a bun, dressed in a traditional skirt, so absorbed in her crying she hadn’t noticed Mingshuang had woken up.

Having read countless online novels, Mingshuang could only assume he’d transmigrated. But there was no system in his mind to help, no idea which world this was; it seemed he’d landed in the most unlucky type of transmigration, where everything depended on himself.

“Stop crying for a moment, my wound is bleeding…” Unable to gauge the situation, Mingshuang decided to deal with his bleeding stomach first.

The hiccuping girl heard Mingshuang speak and jerked her head up to size him up, then cried even harder, continuously muttering that it was all her fault.

Lying in bed, Mingshuang felt hopeless. Why couldn’t this little girl understand a word he said and just kept crying? At this rate, he feared he’d die from blood loss.

Soon enough, a group of people pushed the door open. Leading them was a middle-aged man with an air of authority, followed by several concerned young disciples.

“Ling Xiaozi, are you feeling better?” The authoritative man walked to the bedside, took Mingshuang’s hand, and transferred some spiritual energy to him, his face serious but his tone full of concern.

What? Mingshuang felt as if thunder had struck him, leaving him crisped inside and out. Ling Xiaozi? Surely, it couldn’t be the Ling Xiaozi he was thinking of…

“It’s not too bad, but the wound just reopened.” Mingshuang felt a warm current flow from the man’s hand into his body, easing the pain in his abdomen. But since he couldn’t confirm the man’s identity, he responded vaguely.

The group of young disciples chattered behind the man, mostly asking how Ling Xiaozi had survived an encounter with the Crimson Sky Demon Lord and why the Demon Lord hadn’t slapped him to death.

Mingshuang felt dizzy—Crimson Sky Demon Lord, Ling Xiaozi… He was almost certainly inside "The Trials of a Fairy." Recalling the novel’s plot, it was early in the story: the Jade Gate was recruiting new disciples, the heroine was chosen by Ling Xiaozi and brought back to the sect, but on the mountain path, the Demon Lord ambushed them, and Ling Xiaozi fought desperately to protect the heroine, taking a wound from the Demon Lord.

Of course, the original novel focused on the heroine’s radiant charm, sparking battles between the two male leads vying for her. Ling Xiaozi’s injury was glossed over in two lines. Reading the book, one never imagined the lengths Ling Xiaozi went for the heroine, fighting above his level against the Demon Lord and getting badly beaten. If not for the life-saving aura of being one of the heroine’s harem, Ling Xiaozi would have been dead already.

The abdominal wound was long and deep; with the Demon Lord’s power, a flick of the finger could have cut him in half. Mingshuang thought the original Ling Xiaozi was truly pitiful, everything he did was for the heroine, risking life and limb.

Having inherited none of Ling Xiaozi’s memories, Mingshuang tried to recall the novel and match the people before him: the crying girl was likely the heroine, Ling Qiqi; the authoritative man was Jade Gate’s leader and Ling Xiaozi’s master, Daoist Pingxu; the other young disciples were just background characters.

In the book, Ling Qiqi never had an entirely smooth time at Jade Gate. Though the elders valued her talent, they opposed her forming a partnership with Ling Xiaozi. During this time, Ling Xiaozi had to keep the heroine happy, contend with the whole sect for her sake, and protect her from being snatched away by the Demon Lord, demon immortals, reclusive masters, and other male leads—a truly exhausting job. Eventually, Ling Qiqi stole Jade Gate’s treasure and defected, going to dual cultivate with the Demon Lord, unlocking her demonic bloodline, slaughtering her way to invincibility, conquering all sects, and annihilating Jade Gate, only to bring her first love Ling Xiaozi into her harem. Most shocking of all, in the ending, Ling Xiaozi lived happily with the heroine and her harem, seemingly untroubled by the deaths of all his fellow Jade Gate immortals.

Mingshuang looked at the whimpering girl by his bed and firmly decided to keep his distance from the heroine Ling Qiqi. Whoever wanted to be the male lead could be; he had no desire to suffer that fate.

Daoist Pingxu, annoyed that the other disciples were disturbing Ling Xiaozi’s recovery, chased them out, leaving only Ling Qiqi to care for Mingshuang.

No, Master, this whimpering creature does nothing but cry—how do you expect her to take care of me? Forced to share a room with the heroine, Mingshuang internally resisted. Ling Qiqi couldn’t do anything except cry; was this the heroine’s aura forcing them together?

The original Ling Xiaozi in the book was always moved by Ling Qiqi’s tears, overflowing with tenderness. But Mingshuang, hearing her whimpers, only wanted to slap her away.

“Junior sister, you should go; you don’t need to stay with me.”

“How can I? Senior brother was injured for my sake. I feel deeply guilty and can’t repay your kindness.”

“I don’t need you to offer yourself; just go, please.”

“No, I’ll stay until you recover.”

...

After several exchanges, Mingshuang realized he couldn’t communicate with the heroine at all, so he gave up and closed his eyes to sleep, treating all the whimpering as non-existent.

When he woke again, it was deep night. Ling Qiqi had cried herself to exhaustion and was sound asleep. Mingshuang tried to move but still felt weak. Blinking, he noticed a figure by the window—a young man in white with a clear, elegant aura, about Ling Xiaozi’s age.

What the—?! Judging by his graceful appearance, he must be one of the heroine’s harem members come to steal her away. Mingshuang shut his eyes, determined to play dead.

“Look at you, what a disgrace. Did you get beaten stupid?” The figure by the window came to the bedside. The supposedly cool and aloof young man immediately broke the atmosphere, his tone annoyingly provocative.

Mingshuang lay still, dutifully playing dead. The heroine was right there; do as you please, none of it concerns me.

“Mingshuang, why are you ignoring me? Playing dead, are you?” The young man slapped Mingshuang squarely on his wound, making him grimace in pain and instantly ruining his act.