Book Transmigration: How Did I End Up Picking Up a Villain?

  • Genre： Romance
  • Author： 小鱼肚
  • Translator：
  • Status： Ongoing

  • Rating(4.3 / 5.0) ★

【Transmigration into a Book + 1v1 + HE + Sweet Romance + Mutual Purity + Bickering Couple + Non-Xianxia】 【Sharp-tongued Little Sun Female Lead × Sarcastic Villain Demon King】

Warnings: The female lead had no forced mission to pursue or win over anyone; she was a growth-type character and not a burden. There was no forced lowering of intelligence, and the relationship developed gradually, like slowly boiling a frog in warm water. Those who preferred straightforward, all-out dominance were advised to proceed with caution.

—————————————

 

 

Fang Weizhao was a little panicked right now.

 

Who could tell her what she was supposed to do when, in the very first second of transmigrating into a book, she had inexplicably killed a demon snake and was herself severely injured!?

 

And why were the tasks issued by the system so fragmented! She hadn’t even heard them clearly at all!

 

There was no time to think further.

 

Fang Weizhao fell straight down from the air, and at the critical moment, she was caught in someone’s arms—a person with quite a pleasant voice—who tapped her sleeping acupoint, causing her to faint.

 

So… was something not quite right about the way she had transmigrated into this book?

 

—

 

 

The giant beast roared in fury, lunging forward with the force to tear Fang Weizhao into pieces.

 

“Xiao Ciyu——”

 

Fang Weizhao struggled to open her mouth. Blood poured out from her lips, staining a large portion of her clothes red. Her voice trembled uncontrollably, yet her tone was incomparably resolute.

 

Then she gave a faint smile, mustered all her strength to raise her left hand, and stuck up her middle finger at the person who stood unmoving. “Damn you!”

 

You bastard—what’s so great about you? Did you think I wanted to transmigrate into a book? Only a ghost would want to come save you. I don’t care!

 

—

 

Xiao Ciyu had once believed that no one would ever accept the ruins of his soul.

 

Until that tear—rolling down, named worry—fell without the slightest deviation and struck straight into his heart.

 

From that moment on, the two words “love” were no longer a few obscure strokes on paper.

 

They were her.

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