Chapter 2

Mu Qian Tan said, “What’s there to fear? Kids this age are all idiots, the easiest to fool. Daze her with an immortal artifact, and she’ll lose all sense of direction.”

The Black Hand said, “You’re underestimating the Female Protagonist too much. She’s not that easy to deceive.”

Mu Qian Tan’s expression remained indifferent. “Is that so?”

The Black Hand closed her eyes, seemingly doing something. From her side came the rustling of tearing a plastic wrapper, her voice mixed in with it.

“You’re a vicious female supporting character in this book. Your entire existence is to push the Female Protagonist’s growth and serve her—guide her into cultivation and act as her stepping stone. As someone who needs to proactively approach her, you’re far too ignorant about her.”

These words steadily ignited Mu Qian Tan’s fury. She hated two things most in life: being told her existence was meaningless or that she lived for others, and being forced to do what she didn’t want to do.

She tugged up one corner of her lips in an emotionless smile. “Proactively approach? Did I want to do that?”

Hearing the hostility in her tone, the Black Hand knew something was wrong and tried to backpedal, but Mu Qian Tan continued forcefully, “You told me earlier that I volunteered for this mission in the Small World and even signed the transmigration risk acknowledgment form. But I have no memory of that at all. I don’t even remember when you ever contacted me.”

“You’re not here in person—just a mouth telling me all this. I can’t get away to verify if it’s true or false. How do I know you’re not lying to me?”

The sounds from the Black Hand’s side paused, then resumed with the sound of pouring hot water from a thermos. Once the noise stopped, she spoke, her tone much more cautious. “I don’t know why you’ve lost that memory, but I definitely didn’t deceive you…”

Mu Qian Tan cut her off. “You’d better tell the truth. If I get back and find out things aren’t as you said, you and your organization can expect a court summons. Forcibly dragging someone against their will to another place—that won’t end so easily.”

The Black Hand: “…”

Mu Qian Tan: “Answer me.”

The Black Hand: “…Got it.”

She fell silent. It didn’t last long before she started slurping noodles noisily. Mu Qian Tan hesitated and asked, “What are you doing?”

The Black Hand said, “Eating instant noodles.”

Mu Qian Tan rolled her eyes slightly, looked up at the sky, and said no more.

The eaves on both sides of the alley sliced the blue sky into long strips, with floating clouds flowing past like river water.

This everyday sight, visible anywhere, was identical to the skies from her first twenty-seven years of life—yet it no longer belonged to the same world.

Her previous life—provisionally calling the time before she arrived here her previous life—ended with her final memory fixed on a snowy night.

Due to some awful event she didn’t want to recall, she had collapsed miserably in a snow-covered alley, surrounded by emptiness, struggling to survive. She thought that was the end of her life.

Just before her body fully froze stiff, she suddenly heard a sharp horn blare. Forcing her consciousness open, in her blurry vision, a luxury car burst through the wind and snow. Its headlights pierced like tiger eyes, the engine’s roar shattering the darkness as it screeched to a halt in front of her.

She remembered the tires carving two black tracks in the snow during the emergency brake, the sound piercingly harsh. She remembered the headlights flashing, the door opening, and someone in expensive boots stepping out and approaching.

She couldn’t make out who it was. She was too weak and slipped into unconsciousness.

When she woke again, the scene around her had changed. She stood before a grand Golden Hall, facing a sheer cliff. Immortal clouds swirled in the distance, rays of dawn scattering everywhere. Ocean waves surged far below, damp cold air hitting her face.

Where was this?

The shock of being in a strange place didn’t last long before it was overshadowed by greater astonishment. For she saw her own heart, split four ways deep in her chest cavity, with a pitch-black palm covering it.

…Was this still within human realms?

Her mind reeled in confusion, but she quickly concluded: this was probably heaven.

She never imagined that, given her life and deeds, she’d end up in heaven after death. She was sure it’d be Hell.

Reality, of course, was nothing of the sort.

After that black hand opened its eyes, it began introducing itself energetically, like a customer service rep picking up a call:

Her name was Li Biyuan, she was one of the researchers at the Small World Observation Bureau. Her main body was in the Modern World, while this was a Book World.

A Book World?

“Nowadays, transmigration stories are everywhere. You must have read some… No? What about TV dramas? Animations? Surely novels? Nothing? Your life had no entertainment at all?”

“But it doesn’t matter if you don’t know. I’ll explain what transmigration is and what exactly you need to do. Just follow my instructions, complete the tasks like an NPC in a game, and this place is your newbie village.”

“…You don’t know what a newbie village is?”

As someone disconnected from pop culture, Mu Qian Tan spent considerable time grasping the complex setup and roughly understanding her current situation.

This was an ancient immortal hero novel leaning toward a strong female lead. It told of a girl named Shang Shan who was unexpectedly taken as a disciple by Yao’e Immortal. She honed herself in the Immortal Realm, experiencing friendship, love, family ties, the full spectrum of joys and sorrows, hatred and resentment. In the end, she killed her betraying master to prove her dao, uncovered her Dragon Clan heritage, overcame all obstacles, and ascended to godhood.

From Li Biyuan’s general recounting—and with the real scene right before her—Mu Qian Tan had no choice but to believe: mere instants after losing consciousness, she gained a new identity as the vicious female supporting character Yao’e Immortal—the master who would be slain in the future.

When asked about the purpose of the transmigration, Li Biyuan explained: If the Main World was an aquarium, then Book Small Worlds were like complete ecological fish tanks. Their birth and destruction didn’t require Main World intervention, so most researchers were mere “observers.”

But in special cases—like a tank cracking, water leaking, or fish escaping—that threatened the Main World’s safety, intervention was necessary.

Mu Qian Tan asked, “So Shang Shan’s book had a tank explosion?”

Li Biyuan replied, “More precisely, a Giant Fish escaped.”

Not long ago, during her routine monitoring of multiple Small Worlds, she discovered this book’s plot had deviated. The strongest cultivators in the book had gathered and divined a Prophecy.

On some future day, a Black Dragon God with a body larger than mountains and eyes brighter than the sun would tear open the sky at the world’s highest point, causing mountains to collapse, seas to boil, skies to shatter, and bringing catastrophe to the mortal realm.

This plot didn’t exist in the original work at all.

The Black Dragon was undoubtedly the Female Protagonist Shang Shan. Under her normal growth path, she would become a protector of the world, beloved by countless people—not some world-destroying villain.

Moreover, to Li Biyuan’s utter horror, the Female Protagonist seemed to be tearing the sky open with all her might just to reach the Main World.

This was too terrifying!

Though no protagonist had ever successfully escaped a Book Small World since they were first observed—and Shang Shan probably wouldn’t either—even the slightest possibility couldn’t be ignored.

After all, a Dragon God was beyond normal comprehension. If it truly broke through, the blow to the Main World would be devastating.

After deducing this, Li Biyuan pondered deeply.

What exactly happened later to send the Female Protagonist’s life off its rails?

And why was she so obsessed with reaching the Main World?

Not daring to slack, she monitored the Small World’s progress nonstop, trying to pinpoint where the plot diverged. Fearing to miss details, she went sleepless, her eyes ringed black, even eating her meals at the observation station.

Her efforts paid off. Half a month after the Prophecy’s discovery, she saw that key character—the master who introduced the Female Protagonist to cultivation—suffer Qi Deviation during training. Her spiritual power surged to her heart and exploded!

With no time to think, Li Biyuan activated a special Observation Bureau tool, invaded the Small World, and turned into a black hand. At the instant the heart shattered, she gripped it, halting the master’s bodily death.

Then, she stuffed Mu Qian Tan’s soul inside, hoping she could take over for the unexpectedly departed master and keep the plot’s framework intact.

With spiritual power filling her palm, Mu Qian Tan finished listening and asked, “Where is your Observation Bureau located? Why have I never heard of it?”

Li Biyuan said, “We’re a national secret organization. Ordinary people have no right to know. But rest assured, when you wake up, you’ll be there.”

Mu Qian Tan said, “If I complete the mission, those things you promised… they’re real?”

Li Biyuan: “Absolutely.”

Mu Qian Tan fell silent.

Normally, her personality hated being manipulated, so she wouldn’t be interested in such an activity.

But Li Biyuan said all the transmigration procedures were done with mutual consent. She also said experiencing a totally different life in another world was so meaningful. Plus, the rewards afterward were extremely generous—enough to leap her social class.

Whether it was meaningful or not didn’t matter, but Mu Qian Tan did need that money and those worldly goods to salvage her messed-up life.

Still, why did she remember none of their conversation?

Had her brain been frozen into amnesia?

Li Biyuan said, “I know you have many questions. I’ll explain them slowly later. The main plot has already started now—go find the Female Protagonist first.”

After a few seconds of thought, Mu Qian Tan said, “Send the address.”

No time to delve into the past—the river of time flowed relentlessly forward. She had no mindset of making the best of it, nor did she understand these new game rules at all. But for survival, she was willing to try.

Meanwhile, in a certain remote town’s alley, the Female Protagonist Shang Shan—who needed Mu Qian Tan’s guidance into the mundane world, who would later entangle endlessly before falling out—was waiting there.

Awaiting the destined admiration and betrayal.

A bang-crash exploded by her ear, shattering the memory scene. Mu Qian Tan jolted awake and looked toward the sound.

Shang Shan had kicked through the water jar in her struggles. Clear spring water trickled from the hole, quickly soaking her clothes, darkening their color and clinging to her body.

Li Biyuan said, “The protagonist is always the absolute center of the world, often embodying the author’s boundless favoritism. Just look at the Female Protagonist—those perfect game-model proportions on a real person, and it doesn’t look off at all! She’s gorgeous!”

Mu Qian Tan sized her up. The Female Protagonist was only fifteen, but her figure was already exceptional. Even bound messily with ropes and dressed in ragged patchwork clothes, her slim waist, long legs, and curvaceous form stood out—made even more apparent by the wet clothes molding to her.

“I really want to see what she looks like after becoming a god, and what that majestic Dragon Form bigger than mountains is like. It must be so epic and cool—I’m so excited…”

Amid the ongoing praise in her ear, Mu Qian Tan withdrew her gaze. “Just the creator’s design. Make her beautiful, and she is; make her ugly, and she is. Strength or weakness, same thing. She’s essentially a fictional character—what meaning is there?”

A zap of static. Li Biyuan paused, then asked, “Do you think fictional characters have no value?”

Mu Qian Tan said, “At least no need to waste much thought on them.”

Li Biyuan slurped a huge mouthful of instant noodles and abruptly changed the subject. “Are you starting the plot now?”

Mu Qian Tan had no desire to chat more either. She stood up. “I’ll decide after confirming once more.”

Seeing her finally react, Shang Shan thought kicking the jar had worked and tried to kick her again—but Mu Qian Tan was too far away to reach.

Mu Qian Tan watched her coldly. She placed her palm over the wound again; the bite mark and surrounding area burned hot and painful, impossible to ignore.

She rummaged through her Storage Pouch again—artifacts, talismans, daily items, all sorts of things—but no healing medicine.

Li Biyuan said, “Better to treat it after we get back.”

Mu Qian Tan’s brows furrowed slightly. She lowered her sleeve, covering the wound.

The Female Protagonist was still thrashing about—her stamina was impressive. Mu Qian Tan twitched her fingers, sending out some spiritual power to dissolve the rag she’d stuffed in Shang Shan’s mouth earlier.

With her lips and tongue free, the words pent up in her throat exploded out: “You unreasonable Flapping Moth! Once I break free of these ropes, you’re done for!”

The girl’s voice rang out with force when shouting, like an arrow piercing through misty rivers and lakes, penetrating the eardrums—clear, bright, like listening to crisp rain. Unfortunately, the content wasn’t pleasing.

Mu Qian Tan said, “Your ears must be faulty. It’s Yao’e, not a moth.”

Shang Shan raged, “That’s what I’m calling you! If you don’t like it, cut out my tongue!”

Mu Qian Tan approached her. “Sure.”

Shang Shan was startled and instinctively tilted her body. The spring water gathered in the hollow of her collarbone formed a thin stream that slid down her fair neck.

Mu Qian Tan lightly flicked her skirt hem and squatted beside her, her emotionless eyes fixed on her. Then, she took out a dagger and slowly stroked the hilt with her slender, jade-like fingers.

The shadow cast from behind Mu Qian Tan enveloped Shang Shan’s shoulders and head. The girl stared at her with full vigilance.

“I’m asking you one last time…” Mu Qian Tan spoke slowly. Her voice was like crushed jade slicing ice, with only a faint soft glow on the surface, barely audible.

“Do you want to take me as your master or not?”

Shang Shan kicked her legs and snorted. She had not wanted to answer, but seeing that hand gradually close around the hilt, she quickly cried out, “You’re such a weird person!”

Mu Qian Tan: “Hm?”

Even with the mask in the way, Shang Shan feared she might suddenly lash out at her tongue, so she spoke without opening her mouth much. “Suddenly dropping from the sky, suddenly wanting to take me as your disciple, suddenly beating me up—it’s all so inexplicable. I don’t want to go with someone like you.”

Mu Qian Tan’s gaze drifted blankly as she recalled the events. It did seem to be the case.

In the original plot, the master had helped the Liu Family exorcise ghosts and was glimpsed by chance by the Female Protagonist. This sparked her yearning for cultivation. She pestered the master relentlessly all the way back to the sect and ultimately became her disciple.

Mu Qian Tan had transmigrated over, departed from Tianyu Sect, and found the girl in this alley without taking too much time. She still had not shaken off her modern habits and mindset, including right now.

So, following the principle that only the result mattered and not the method, she had wanted to skip the horrifying exorcism segment and directly convince the Female Protagonist to take her as master.

There was nothing wrong with this line of thinking in principle, but Mu Qian Tan had forgotten her rotten personality and complete lack of eloquence. After just two exchanges with the Female Protagonist, things fell apart, leading to the current situation.

The bite had hurt too much, so in a fit of anger, she had tied the girl up here and slipped off for tea and rest. Unexpectedly, she still ended up colliding with the plot.

Seeing the Female Protagonist like this, she clearly would not yield on her own. It looked like there was no escaping it.

Li Biyuan suddenly spoke up. “Hiss… I just realized—you didn’t want to help the Liu Family at first. Were you afraid of ghosts?”

Mu Qian Tan froze, then replied speechlessly, “Ridiculous. How could I be?”

Li Biyuan said, “Not at all?”

Mu Qian Tan’s tone carried dissatisfaction. “Don’t make wild guesses. Absolutely not.”

She stood up, as if determined to prove something. Her toe hooked the Dog-Beating Bamboo Pole beside Shang Shan, and she injected it with spiritual power. She threaded the other end through the rope around the girl’s waist, then hoisted her onto her shoulder like a sack of goods. “About time. Let’s go take a look now.”

Her long hair cascaded down. Shang Shan stared at the upside-down world before her, dumbfounded.

What was the difference from picking up a pig?

A scholar could be killed but not humiliated! She tried to yell again, but spiritual power clamped her mouth shut tight. She could only let out muffled wu wu sounds.

Just like that—with the girl slung over her shoulder on the pole—Mu Qian Tan returned directly to the tavern from earlier.

Liu Ying still sat on the doorstep, clutching his hair with five fingers, his face full of worry.

Mu Qian Tan had just reached him when the shopkeeper came out and handed the packed grilled fish to Liu Ying. “Here, some side dishes too. You… Ouch!”

He had clearly watched the figure walk away into the distance, yet now he faced those cold eyes again. Thinking the nightmare had returned, the shopkeeper heard the immortal lady say to Liu Ying on the doorstep:

“Lead the way. Save your daughter.”