After Transmigrating Into a Cannon Fodder, I Got a Happy Ending with the Female Lead [Transmigration Into a Novel] - Chapter 1

 Yue Xi, twenty-four years old, an ordinary corporate drone.
After two years of working, she went from having nothing to being deeply in debt. Just looking at herself every day made her burn with frustration.

On her one day off each week, she spent the whole time catching up on sleep in her tiny rented apartment. After she had slept enough, she would order takeout, watch dramas, or read novels.

She didn’t have many hobbies—reading novels was one of the few.

When she came across a story she liked, she would devour it obsessively, even if it meant losing sleep and skipping meals.

After a month of nonstop overtime, several pimples had erupted on her face. On the weekend, her best friend Yan Yi came to visit. Seeing the pimples, Yan Yi rubbed her chin and said:
“Looks like your hormones are out of balance. You need to find yourself a partner.”

Yue Xi rolled her eyes, tossed her some snacks, and said nothing. Yan Yi, seeing her indifference, smirked slyly.

“No partner? Then solve it yourself.”

Yue Xi gave her a dumbfounded look. Just then, her phone chimed non-stop—it was Yan Yi, sending over a folder of novels.

Yue Xi stared at the txt file, her expression complicated.
“You know I don’t befriend people who pirate novels.”

Yan Yi made a surprised noise.
“This one’s legit—I bought it straight from the author. The site was down, so I tracked the author’s Weibo and paid real money. You can read it without worry.”

Only then was Yue Xi satisfied.

Yan Yi gave her a mischievous grin.
“If you need anything, just call me—I’ll make sure you’re taken care of.”

Then she grabbed her bag to leave. Yue Xi asked, “So late, where are you going?”

Normally, when Yan Yi came over, they slept together, chatting until midnight and waking up late the next day.

Yan Yi squinted her eyes, still looking cheeky.
“You don’t have a girlfriend, but I do. Such a lovely night, of course I’m spending it with her. Besides—you need to ‘take care of things’ too. It’d be inconvenient with me here.”

She chuckled wickedly and left.

Yue Xi was left with two questions:
First, when did Yan Yi get a girlfriend?
Second, what exactly did she need to “take care of”?

After washing up, Yue Xi climbed into her soft bed—her happiest time of the day.

She picked the novel with the nicest-sounding title and opened it. The more she read, the stranger it felt.

This seemed like… smut.

The opening scene: the shou protagonist’s seal was broken by accident, leading to an encounter in the wilderness with the gong protagonist…

The writing was vivid, the intimate details practically leaping off the page. Yue Xi’s face burned hot.

Who would’ve thought her twenty-four years of pure, single life would be ruined by a book?

If she had known Yan Yi had given her erotica, she never would have started.

But now she was halfway in—it was too late to stop.

She wasn’t the type to quit halfway.
And more importantly—the “meat” was cooked so well! The plot was also gripping. She couldn’t wait to see what came next.

The further she read, the more her heart ached for the shou protagonist.

The shou was named Qing He, once one of the only two God Sovereigns of the divine realm. But because of a prophecy, her own brother dug out her divine core, causing her to fall into demonhood and wage war against the gods for tens of thousands of years.

When her brother finally perished, she found life meaningless and deliberately fell into the gods’ trap, sealing herself within Fuyu Mountain.

Tens of thousands of years later, the gong protagonist Yu Jinyi, a student of Daoist arts, accidentally unsealed her. Qing He awoke with less than a tenth of her power remaining, in a world utterly changed.

When she looked around, not a single flower, tree, or blade of grass resembled the ones she remembered.

Reading this, Yue Xi’s chest tightened. Even though it was only a fictional character, she could feel Qing He’s pain.

Her empathy was overwhelming—whether it was dramas or novels, she often cried buckets.

At this point, she still hadn’t realized the seriousness of her situation. She just thought it was her empathy acting up.

Then, a cannon-fodder character with the exact same name as her appeared—and was fed to a monster by Qing He in the very first arc.

Yue Xi felt uneasy. She got up to pour some water, but slipped on the floor, hitting her head—and everything went black.

Damn Yan Yi! Couldn’t she stop tossing empty AD calcium-milk bottles everywhere?!

…

Yue Xi didn’t know how long she’d been unconscious. She was awakened by loud noise—the blaring of suona horns and the chanting of scriptures, shaking her eardrums.

She opened her eyes to see a young man in a gray Daoist robe, long hair tied into a high ponytail, kneeling and chanting.

Looking around, she saw others kneeling too, all in robes.

Glancing down, she saw she was also wearing Daoist robes—blue ones, slightly darker in shade.

What was happening?

Had her soul drifted into some bizarre dream?

Another blast of suona and clashing cymbals made her temples throb. Memories not her own began to surface.

“From today, you are my disciple. Guard against arrogance and rashness, lest disaster befall you.”
“Yes, Master.”

A young girl with twin buns, in oversized blue robes, with a tender and childish face.

But Yue Xi recognized it—that face looked exactly like her own when she was young.

The scene flickered—the girl grew older.

“Junior Sister, that’s just a little sprite Master gave us to practice with. Don’t harm it!”
“Got it,” she replied, but still stuck a talisman on it, turning the sprite to ashes.

“My talismans are improving!”

She thought her seniors would praise her, but by the time she looked up, they had already walked away.

“Why don’t they ever praise me?” she muttered, disappointed.

Yue Xi watched the girl’s life story unfold, and was certain—this was not her.

Even though they shared the same name and face, she was nothing like that arrogant, cold-hearted girl who killed indiscriminately.

The “original” Yue Xi never spared any demon or spirit, regardless of good or evil—completely against the teachings of Lingyin Temple.

Their master, Daoist Yancheng, was noble-hearted. He always taught that one must discern right from wrong, and when facing harmless spirits, seek to redeem them rather than destroy them.

When Yue Xi finished absorbing all the memories, the dirge swelled louder again. She looked around—it was too vivid to be a dream.

She pinched herself hard. Tears sprang from the pain.

Not a dream!

At that moment, the young Daoist in front turned toward her, eyes full of impatience and anger.
“Junior Sister, focus!”

Yue Xi hurriedly answered “Yes!” and lowered her head. But she had no idea what she was supposed to be reciting, so she just mouthed nonsense to blend in.

Same name, same face, and now being called “junior sister”…

Everything told Yue Xi one thing: she had transmigrated into the book.

She’d read plenty of such novels and was mentally prepared. But she couldn’t understand—why was she cannon fodder instead of the protagonist, the beloved darling of the story?

What was she lacking?!

She roared silently in her heart.

Just as she did, a cold wind blew—the eternal lamps above them extinguished.

Chanting stopped, the music halted, and silence fell over the temple.

A novice ran in to the senior brother kneeling ahead.
“Senior Brother, Master has passed away.”

The senior brother was silent for a moment.
“I understand. Let’s send Master on his final journey.”

The novice came to kneel behind Yue Xi, and the chanting resumed—sadder than before. Yue Xi’s heart grew heavy.

They knelt deep into the night. Finally, the senior brother turned to her.
“You must leave the mountain immediately.”

Yue Xi was baffled. She was still a disciple—why chase her away in the middle of the night?

Seeing her hesitate, his expression hardened.
“After Master’s passing, Uncle Yanzing will become the new temple head. If she discovers Master sacrificed his own lifespan to shield you from calamity, she will never let you live.”

“I don’t know why Master risked everything to protect you. But since that was his wish, live well. Don’t let his sacrifice be in vain.”

“Your tribulation isn’t over. From now on, your path is yours to choose. Just remember this—no matter what, never let go of compassion.”

He spoke gravely. By then, the novice had already brought her a small bundle—just one spare robe, a peachwood sword, and a few talismans.

Yue Xi bowed three times toward the altar, repaying the original body’s debt to Daoist Yancheng.

The senior brother stood with his hands behind his back. The other disciples crowded around her.

Second Brother said, “Sister, I have nothing much to give you. Take this book—it can save your life in danger.”

Before she could even look at it, the book was shoved into her bundle.

The others followed suit, stuffing their manuals into her bag until it bulged.

Yue Xi, knowing how the original had behaved, dared not ask for more. Receiving their gifts despite past grudges was already a blessing.

At two in the morning, the hour of heaviest yin energy, Yue Xi descended the mountain.

Strangely, perhaps because of the original’s influence, she didn’t feel afraid on the dark path.

But beyond the path lay a dense forest, shadows thick and oppressive.

She quickened her pace, wanting to get out—but no matter how far she walked, she ended up circling back to the same tree.

Ghost wall?

She marked a tree and soon confirmed it—she was trapped.

Taking out a talisman, she recited the incantation from memory. The talisman floated and pointed the way.

Impressive—Senior Brother’s talisman really worked.

She was almost out when suddenly fog rolled in. She felt danger ahead, but still stepped forward—
—and fell off a cliff.

The drop was terrifying, cold wind lashing her face, but she wasn’t afraid. She believed she wouldn’t die yet—not when her time hadn’t come.

The fall seemed endless.

If only she could wake up back in the real world…

Just as the thought came, she crashed to the ground.

Her chest rattled, her organs felt displaced. She lay half-dead, but alive.

Her arm throbbed with sharp pain—blood soaked her sleeve dark blue.

Blood seeped into cracks in the rocks. Something beneath began to stir, like seedlings breaking through the soil.

Yue Xi didn’t notice. She tried to bandage herself with her good arm—but then realized her other palm was cut too, glowing faint green.

What was this?

The ground shook violently. Thick green vines burst from the earth, each as wide as her arm. She froze, forgetting to run.

A monster? An evil spirit?

She finally scrambled to crawl away, but burning pain surged through her body, pinning her in place.

So this was it? She’d die here?

She lay flat, staring at the stars.
“If dying means going home, so be it.”

But the vines suddenly stilled.

A blinding light shot from the cracks. When she could see again, the vines had woven together, lifting an icy coffin.

Inside lay a young girl, in blue robes, long hair flowing, features so beautiful they seemed unreal.

Maybe she really wasn’t human.

The girl’s eyes snapped open, landing on Yue Xi. Terrified, Yue Xi shut her eyes and played dead.

The vines lowered the coffin, forming steps. The girl stepped out and came to Yue Xi, staring at her bleeding arm with unfathomable dark eyes.

Yue Xi peeked—and was caught. Before she could close her eyes, the girl appeared before her like a gust of wind, grabbing her right hand.

“So it’s Love-Devouring Grass.”

The moment she spoke, heat seared through Yue Xi’s body, her blood boiling with restlessness.

But then—she smelled a refreshing fragrance, soothing the torment. It was coming from the girl.

She wanted to lean closer, but her body had no strength. In desperation, she suddenly sat upright.

A miracle?

Before she could marvel, the girl gave a muffled groan, her lips turning deathly pale.

Alarmed, Yue Xi asked, “What’s wrong?”

The girl said nothing, enduring silently.

But Yue Xi was at her limit—the scent was driving her mad. She pulled the girl into her arms.

The girl barely struggled before going limp.

Relief washed over Yue Xi—but the effect was short-lived. The heat returned, worse than before.

The girl grew weaker, collapsing in her arms. Finally she whispered:
“Becoming my furnace is the greatest honor of your life.”

Then she kissed Yue Xi, biting her tongue to feed her blood.

The fever inside Yue Xi vanished instantly, her wounds healing as if by miracle.

But the bloody taste made her gag. She pushed the girl away—only to see her eyes glowing scarlet.

“You dare reject me?”

The sudden ferocity nearly stopped Yue Xi’s heart. Panicking, she pinned the girl down.

The red faded from the girl’s eyes, replaced with resistance.

Knowing they had to leave, Yue Xi stammered, “Thank you for saving me. I’ll repay you in my next life. Goodbye!”

She tried to flee, but was yanked back, slammed against a stone, and kissed fiercely.

Her mind spun.

The girl’s face was flushed, soft like a peach blossom trembling in spring rain.

Unable to resist, Yue Xi deepened the kiss, dominating her lips.

The girl melted in her arms, powerless.

Just blood exchange—how had the furnace’s lust poison transferred to her too? Absurd!

Yue Xi only let go when the girl was breathless, her body slack.

The girl whimpered faintly, pressing closer, seeking more.

At this point, Yue Xi would give her anything.

Her gaze fell on the girl’s pale, almost sickly skin.

The girl shivered and whispered, “Cold…”

Yue Xi hugged her tighter, treasuring her like something fragile.

In the hazy moonlight, her jade-white skin glowed softly.

Yue Xi bit her swanlike neck. The girl let out a delicate sound, melting her heart.

Her lips trailed lower—

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