"Oh come on!" Xiao Zhi screamed at her laptop, probably for the tenth time that night.
Her back was killing her. She couldn't even remember how long she'd been hunched over like an old granny, glued to the screen. Every bone in her spine creaked in protest, but her stubborn brain refused to stop.
It had been more than a week since she last slept properly, drowning in endless novel edits. Deadlines were chasing her, and her boss was breathing down her neck because nothing had been published yet.
But how the hell was she supposed to publish anything when every manuscript she got was pure trash?
And there it was again. Another one.
Tragedy of Tughril.
Just the title alone made her cringe.
"Princess Lian Zhi," she muttered, her voice raspy from a day of screaming and too much caffeine. "concubine-born, not favored. Elegant but easily dismissed." She continued to read in a mocking voice, "Marries off to a barbaric prince… Sister stole lover… mother dies tragically… abused by the prince..yada yada yada."
She slammed her head onto her keyboard.
This is pathetic.
But she continued to read the rest of the blurb. She couldn't even bother to read the whole novel, if even from the synopsis, she could tell it's trash.
"Well, at least the male lead is handsome." She smiled a little after reading the characters' description. "This kind of story, I like."
But her satisfaction didn't last long as she read the next paragraphs. "So the male lead gets to victory while the female lead dies?" Her lips curled in disgust. " Seriously? Again? Another girl whose only role is to suffer so that the male lead can flex his righteous anger later? Predictable much?"
She slammed her palm against the desk with a loud smack.
Her temper exploded.
"Why are authors these days so obsessed with writing stories like this? Why were they so eager to portray women as weak, abused everywhere, while glorifying men as flawless Prince Charmings? Did they really think readers liked this crap?" She began her rant.
"This wasn't the past anymore. Modern readers don't like this crap anymore. Women weren't supposed to be spineless punching bags who just endured suffering until death. Women should be strong, brave, and unwilling to be tortured for someone else's character development." She sighed after giving the long lecture on creative writing 101 to her invisible audience.
She shoved her chair back and jumped to her feet, pacing her tiny apartment like she was about to conduct an orchestra of rage.
"I swear," she declared to absolutely no one, "if I have to read one more story where the heroine is born just to be bullied, married off, and then die tragically!" She threw her hands into the air. "Why can't anyone just let the poor girl live happily for once? Is that really too much to ask?"
A small meow interrupted her rant.
Xiao Zhi turned around to see Mocha, her chubby brown cat, sitting proudly on the desk like a tiny emperor. He tapped the mouse with his paw, sending the cursor sliding across the tragic manuscript.
"Not helping, Mocha," she muttered, scooping him up and burying her face in his soft fur. "You're cute, but even you can't fix bad writing."
She set him down again.
Mocha blinked at her, utterly unimpressed.
Back at her desk, Xiao Zhi scrolled once more, her editor's eye twitching with every familiar trope.
Marriage to a villain. Check.
Family dies tragically. Check.
Love stolen by someone else. Check.
Abused by the villain. Check.
Dies anyway. Check, check, check.
She slapped the table again.
"Unbelievable. It's like the author took the Tragic Female Lead Template, filled in the blanks, and called it a day. Every chapter, a brand-new misery. Is this supposed to be art? No. It's just depressing. And lazy."
Her rant spiraled out of control.
"Maybe, just maybe, the heroine could survive if she had two brain cells to rub together. Or, I don't know, run away like any rational human being would. But no. Let's keep her alive just long enough to squeeze out maximum suffering points. Fantastic. Bravo. Ten out of ten for originality."
With a heavy sigh, Xiao Zhi dropped back into her chair. She scrolled up to the top of the document and squinted at the author's name.
Lin Rui.
Of course.
She remembered him. The undisputed king of tragic romance.
Did this guy suffer some lifelong heartbreak?
Did his ex dump him in the rain like one of those cheap drama scenes?
Xiao Zhi cracked her knuckles and started typing furiously.
Within minutes, a draft email appeared on her screen.
_________________________
To: Lin Rui
Subject: Fix This Story
Dear Mr. Lin,
Do you really expect readers to be interested in a story where the princess dies in predictable and brutal ways? Are you actually that masochistic? Stop killing her every chapter. Try something original for once. Fix it.
Editor,
Xiao Zhi
_________________________
Her cursor hovered over the Send button.
For a brief moment, she hesitated.
What if he hates me forever?
What if I'm being too harsh?
She shrugged.
"Eh. He'll live. Probably."
Click. Sent.
"Finally," she exhaled, collapsing into her chair. "Maybe now he'll get the hint and write something worth reading."
Her eyes drifted around the apartment. Towers of manuscripts everywhere. Three empty coffee cups beside her laptop. A half-eaten cup of instant noodles on the desk. The air smelled like burnt coffee and dusty cat fur.
I really need to burn this place down.
Her phone buzzed, lighting up face-down on the desk. She ignored it. Probably another deadline reminder or some useless promo notification.
She stood up, heading for the kitchen to pour yet another cup of coffee,
When the light above her flickered.
Then the entire apartment went dark.
Xiao Zhi sighed. "Not again…"
The building was ancient, barely holding itself together. It was famous for exactly two things: paper-thin walls that let her hear the couple next door fighting every Thursday, and constant blackouts caused by a fuse box that belonged in a museum.
Groaning, she dragged herself toward it.
Mocha meowed nervously. He hated the dark, his tail flicking anxiously as if begging her not to leave him alone.
"Stay there, Mocha." Xiao Zhi wagged a finger at him. "This is a human disaster. You'd just make it worse."
She crossed the cramped living room and opened the dusty metal panel of the fuse box. Inside was a tangled mess of wires, more like noodles than electricity. A faint burnt smell lingered in the air.
"Ugh. Perfect," she muttered. "Just what I needed."
She reached for the switch.
Snap!
A spark jumped onto her fingers.
"Ah! Damn it!" She jerked back, shaking her hand as her hair frizzed from static.
Before she could pull away,
ZAP.
A sharp jolt shot up her arm, freezing her muscles. Pain surged from her fingers to her shoulders. Her heart pounded violently as her vision turned white. Her body locked, burning, and tingling all at once.
And then,
Silence.
Blank.
When Xiao Zhi opened her eyes, the world around her was no longer her apartment.