“What the hell! Tan Jin is already this miserable—why do they still have to kill him?”

Grumbling, Yang Ruo angrily closed the drama streaming page and opened her work software instead.

It was already 11 p.m., but with a call from the boss, she had no choice but to get back to work obediently.

She laid down the base sketch, then gradually refined it, layer by layer, adding color and adjusting light alongside shadow. 

After going through a whole series of steps, the commercial illustration was nearly complete, and Yang Ruo was feeling quite pleased.

But just as she was basking in that moment of success, a wave of nausea hit her. Her vision blurred, the computer screen darkened, and she lost consciousness.

There was a strange sense of impending death. Strangely, Yang Ruo didn’t feel scared; instead, she felt a light sense of relief.

At last… no more overtime.

And yet, a stubborn regret rose: she hadn’t even finished watching Tan Jin’s wedding episode, where he gets nailed with the Soul-Destroying Nail…

Her own life was an absolute mess. Once a top student in a prestigious university, she only realized after entering the workforce that having influential parents mattered way more than talent.

Where was the world of truth, kindness, and beauty that she had once longed for?

Why was the real world filled with people scheming, stepping on each other, and doing whatever it took for personal gain?

That’s why she could sometimes understand Tan Jin.

He chose the path of evil after witnessing the world's cruelty. But was he inherently evil? No. 

He was merely a mirror of the world that was shaped by every evil thing that had happened to him until he became a demon god.

To ignore all the systemic problems in the world and pin one’s hopes solely on eliminating a single person labeled “Demon God” to restore peace and order… Such a solution reeks of naivety. It raises doubts about whether its proposer has any true understanding of how the world works.

As ordinary people, it’s fair to hate a being that brings disaster.

But as cultivators, one should have a broader perspective, not remain trapped in the simplistic dichotomy of good vs. evil.

The Heavenly Dao is merciless.

Yang Ruo was the kind of person who stood close to the perspective of the Heavenly Dao. If the Dao demanded someone's destruction, she could, just like the god who once restarted the human era with a great flood, coldly watch the life and death of individuals, or even entire populations, without flinching.

She thought to herself: This life has been so, so exhausting. Maybe those gods who work around the clock fulfilling mortals' wishes feel the same way.

After all, for humanity, relying on gods is pointless—self-salvation is the only path to true salvation.

The gods can't shield the mortal world. The mortal world belongs to mortals, not the gods.

…

When she woke again, Yang Ruo found herself lying in a place full of ancient elegance.

There was an incense burner in the room, smoke curling softly from the ornate bronze vessel. Its carved openings featured timeworn auspicious patterns.

No one else was present.

She sat up, bewildered, not knowing where she was.

This… this can’t be the underworld, can it?

The doors and windows were tightly shut, yet the room was filled with light—it must be daytime.

She pushed the door open and stepped outside. Immediately, a young maid came rushing up to her.

“Miss, you’re awake!”

Yang Ruo’s heart skipped.

Miss…?  Am I reincarnated into the body of a noble family's pampered daughter? 

What the hell?!

Her instincts screamed that something was seriously off.

Grabbing the maid’s hand, Yang Ruo demanded, “Who are you? Who am I? Where are we right now?”

The girl, her hair styled in two buns, blinked and said, “Miss, d-did you hit your head or something?”

But she quickly answered:

“You are the second legitimate daughter of the Grand General’s Manor, Lady Ye Xiwu. I’m your maid, Chun Tao. Do you… Want me to fetch a physician?” she asked, worry and fear flickering in her eyes.

“Ye... Xi... Wu?”

"Ye Xiwu!"

Yang Ruo suddenly thought of something and asked in disbelief,

“Which Ye Xiwu? Is there also a Ye Bingshang here? And a Xiao Lin? Even... a Tan Jin?”

She stared nervously at Chun Tao.

Chun Tao was frightened by her young lady’s bizarre behavior. She shrank back, sniffling as she replied, “Y-Yes, Miss… what’s wrong with you? Please don’t scare me…”

Realizing she might’ve overreacted, Yang Ruo softened her tone. Ye Xiwu’s old temper was notoriously bad, so it made sense for Chun Tao to be scared.

“It’s fine. I just… had a weird dream and can’t quite tell if I’ve woken up. Chun Tao, can you tell me what's been going on lately—about our household and the Sheng kingdom?”

In her mind, Yang Ruo was spiraling.

Wait a minute… did I transmigrate into Till the End of the Moon?

Hold on—is this the novel's version of the world? Or the drama adaptation?

If she got that wrong, she was screwed.

Also… was she the original Ye Xiwu, or was she the version who had been possessed by Li Susu?

Where was Li Susu in all this? Had she arrived yet or not?

Too many questions. Her mental CPU was overheating.

God, I just want to flop and do nothing.

Saving the world? Yeah, leave that to Li Susu.

Chun Tao started explaining something that had recently happened in the Ye household—a lakeside incident.

Apparently, Ye Xiwu had pushed Ye Bingshang into the water, and now the girl was bedridden and seriously ill.

Yang Ruo facepalmed, not wanting to face reality.

She wasn’t Li Susu, with her cultivation background and cool talisman-drawing abilities. She had no powers, no fighting skills, and couldn’t afford to act out of character, or she’d draw suspicion.

But playing Ye Xiwu’s old villainous self? Also, impossible. She just didn’t have it in her.

Having read the original novel and gotten halfway through the drama, she knew who the real villains were and that they were all nightmares to deal with. 

Sure, she had foreknowledge as a cheat code, but she was weaker than Tan Jin in his emo pre-demon days. How the hell was she supposed to survive this plotline?

With one last desperate hope, she asked,

“Did I—your young lady—say anything about going to the temple to pray? Have we… already gone?”

She seemed to remember that, in the canon, Li Susu first entered Ye Xiwu’s body around that temple visit. 

If that scene hadn’t happened yet, maybe Yang Ruo could push the plot forward herself—and then, once Li Susu took over this body, she’d be free to clock out of this mess.

Yes, while watching the drama, she had pitied Tan Jin and even fantasized about rewriting his fate, but now that she was actually inside the story? 

She didn’t have to lift a finger; just the thought of what lay ahead was terrifying enough to make her want to nope out.

This world wasn’t hers. These people weren’t her responsibility.

She wasn’t Li Susu. She wasn’t some savior. Furthermore, she had no tragic backstory, no revenge arc, and no duty to protect all sentient beings.

If there was a way out, she'd take it in a heartbeat.

But then came Chun Tao’s extremely unhelpful reply—her tone practically cheerful:

“Miss, are you remembering things? We just came back from the temple yesterday!”

Yang Ruo: “…”

Nope. Not remembering a damn thing. Don’t want to remember a damn thing.

“Uh… Chun Tao, let me ask you, do you guys have any medicine here that… you know, lets you die painlessly?”

"Miss! Waaaah! You’ve finally gone back to being the Miss I know. Are you trying to drug the Eldest Miss?”

Yang Ruo: “…”

Welp!! There goes the conversation.

Ye Xiwu, trying to poison Ye Bingshang and using a painless poison? Since when was Ye Xiwu ever that merciful?

Then again… whatever. Let Chun Tao misunderstand all she wants. At least this way, Yang Ruo didn’t have to break character.

Once Chun Tao left, Yang Ruo sat quietly on the bed, deep in thought.

It seemed that Li Susu didn’t arrive in this world during the temple visit gone wrong, as per the original plot. Somehow, she, Yang Ruo, had ended up here instead by mistake, or maybe worse.

Trying to stay calm, she thought through the situation. 

Since going back wasn’t an option—and Li Susu wasn’t coming to take over—she had no choice but to seriously plan her next move in this world.

What worried her most was this: her presence was an anomaly. A glitch in the plot. Who knew what kind of butterfly effect it might trigger later? 

She was just a regular, physically frail, powerless human being. Could she really survive the storm that was coming?

She wasn’t Li Susu. Not the last Divine Maiden of the mortal realm. No immortal bone, no spell-casting talismans.

She couldn’t save Tan Jin.

God, this sucks so bad.

Yang Ruo spiraled into a mess of anxious overthinking, then collapsed back onto the bed in utter defeat.

She just wanted to run away from all of it.

Of course, she wanted to save Tan Jin. But what could she do? She was helpless.

After zoning out for a while, she finally tried to untangle the plot in her mind.

Right now… it was just after the temple trip.

Suddenly, she shot up in bed.

Tan Jin!

If the story was still on track, he should be kneeling on ice outside right now—

Ohhh fuck me… I am dead…

She scrambled to open the door, rushing to look for him.

She remembered clearly: it was the bitterest part of winter. Even a healthy person would suffer after kneeling outside for a few hours, and Tan Jin’s body was already sickly and weak. 

He must’ve been out there for a long time by now.

Her brain was a complete mess. She had no idea how much time had passed since he started kneeling. All she knew was that if she showed up too late, and he died and successfully became the Demon God, she’d be screwed.

Even Li Susu couldn’t beat that version of him—what chance did she have?

She didn’t care about saving the world, but she sure as hell didn’t want to die this early.

Besides… deep down, she actually did want to save the boy kneeling on ice.

After all, he is a pitiful child.

There’s no need to make things harder for him.

She wasn’t Ye Xiwu, nor was she Li Susu, who had a blood feud with the Demon God. There was no need for her to go against Tan Jin. She even felt a bit of pity for him.

But she also knew that pitying someone from behind a screen was much safer. Now that she had transmigrated directly into the story and was face-to-face with Tan Jin, the brainless demon fetus, she had to stay alert. She couldn’t let sympathy cloud her judgment. 

When she found Tan Jin, he had already passed out.

Yang Ruo: “...” 

On the bright side, at least she wouldn’t have to worry about him noticing she was out of character.

She looked at the young man collapsed in the icy snow. The bone-chilling cold seemed to flood through her entire body in an instant. Her fingers trembled as she reached out to check his breathing, a feeling of apocalyptic despair rising in her chest.

She had to save him, whether out of pity or for her survival.