I Transmigrated Into the Script and Married the Villain - Chapter 1

Night had fallen completely, and eerie winds howled through the canyon.

The surrounding air was bone-chilling, the cold seeping through Zhang Xingxing’s skin and penetrating his limbs and bones.

The stench of blood hung heavy in the air, forcing Zhang Xingxing to cough and gag as he sprinted desperately along the rocky beach.

“Brother, I saw nothing! Please spare me! I won’t breathe a word about tonight’s events…” Zhang Xingxing tripped, his desperate cries abruptly cut short.

He sprawled face-down on the ground, closing his eyes in despair as he awaited death.

Behind him, he heard the sharp hiss of a weapon slicing through the air, aimed straight for his heart.

Thwack! Blood splattered.

The tragedy unfolding before him had begun just ten minutes earlier. In short, Zhang Xingxing had transmigrated.

Ten minutes ago, he had been suspended on wires on a film set, filming an action scene. His scene partner was Chen Che, a rising star heavily promoted by their agency.

Chen Che possessed refined features and a gentle, jade-like demeanor. He had previously played a humble and virtuous male lead in a low-budget web drama, earning widespread acclaim from viewers.

Capitalizing on his momentum, the agency secured him the lead role in a historical drama adapted from a wildly popular novel.

In contrast, Zhang Xingxing, Chen Che’s colleague at the same company, seemed cursed with perpetual bad luck. Despite four years in the industry, he remained perpetually lukewarm.

Early in his career, he endured stretches of six months without a single role. His Weibo followers barely numbered 500,000, with over half being company-bought “zombie followers.”

Desperate for work to make ends meet, and with the company producing this very drama, Zhang Xingxing decided to go all in. During auditions, he auditioned for every male role except the male lead.

Heaven rewards the diligent. Zhang Xingxing landed the role of Shen Zhijing, the drama’s main antagonist.

This was a stroke of luck for Zhang Xingxing, a golden opportunity falling right into his lap.

Shen Zhijing was the ultimate villain in the novel Ten Years to Wake from the Jianghu Dream, and readers on online forums had voted him the most charismatic villain of 2020.

Why was he considered so charismatic?

First and foremost, because he was undeniably handsome!

The novel described him thus: 

“Shen Zhijing slowly emerged from behind the screen, clad only in a thin robe. His figure was slender and delicate, his dark hair cascading like a waterfall. Under the lamplight, his face glowed like jade, refined and elegant. Born with peach blossom-shaped eyes and brows, his smile carried a gentle, lingering warmth that threatened to drown those who gazed upon it.”

Secondly, he was a top-tier villain.

Shen Zhijing’s martial arts were unparalleled. Wielding a folding fan as his weapon, he slaughtered gods and demons alike, single-handedly defeating the four greatest martial arts masters of the jianghu and cutting them all down beneath his fan.

He launched a series of night raids, annihilating several major sects of the jianghu. In the end, the protagonist group, relying on the author’s plot armor and the combined might of the entire jianghu, devised a scheme to force Shen Zhijing’s execution.

Most importantly, he was an utterly deranged villain.

Ten years ago, after inheriting the position of Sect Leader of the Demonic Cult, he plunged the jianghu into chaos. He was eventually suppressed by Li Yin, the supreme leader of the righteous sects, and imprisoned on Mount Cangxuan for over a decade.

But during his confinement, he never ceased cultivating. Finally mastering the Demonic Arts, he broke free from the mountain, concealed his identity, and systematically exacted his revenge, making those who had imprisoned and humiliated him pay in blood.

On the surface, he was a refined and elegant gentleman, courteous and proper in his interactions. Yet beneath this facade lurked a volatile and unpredictable nature, a violent madness that could erupt into mass slaughter at the slightest provocation.

He repaid every debt, avenged every grudge, and cared nothing for justice or morality. Completely unbound by reason, he indulged in murder and arson with impunity. His scenes were guaranteed to deliver maximum thrills.

During the serialization of Ten Years to Wake from the Jianghu Dream, Shen Zhijing’s fanbase and popularity briefly surpassed those of the male and female leads. The activity in his character’s Weibo supertopic remained consistently high.

When Zhang Xingxing landed this role, which came with built-in hype, he was ecstatic. He nearly wanted to kowtow to the director in gratitude for the opportunity.

Little did he know that on his first day on set, he would be suspended by wires, filming his first action scene with Chen Che amidst flashing blades.

As fate would have it, the wire around his waist suddenly loosened. Before Zhang Xingxing could utter a word, he plummeted rapidly from the sky.

Thud!

To make matters worse, his head struck a prop crate upon landing.

The surrounding crew members rushed toward him in panic, their shouts filling the air. The camera, knocked over by the crowd, crashed to the ground.

Zhang Xingxing struggled to sit up but couldn’t move. In the next instant, his consciousness slipped into complete darkness.

When he regained consciousness, he found himself lying on a rocky beach. His head, legs, and back ached. Every part of him throbbed as if his limbs had been disassembled and reassembled haphazardly. Faint voices drifted through the air.

“…Junior Brother, go inform Master and urge him to send reinforcements immediately. My fellow senior brothers and I will hold this demon at bay. We must not let him escape.”

“This Shen bastard is utterly depraved, his crimes unforgivable! Eleven years ago, he annihilated my sect and slaughtered my entire family. Today, he will pay for his sins in blood!”

“With our brothers united, we will surely slay Shen Zhijing here and now!”

“Changfeng, Changhua, form the formation with me!”

“Yes!” The clang of swords and blades being drawn echoed through the air.

“Excuse me… where am I?”

Zhang Xingxing lay half-dead on the ground, gasping for breath. A group of young men in dark robes moved around him, each with a sword at their waist and long hair tied up. All were unfamiliar faces, and none paid him any attention.

Gritting his teeth, he struggled to rise. Halfway up, someone helped him, supporting his waist and guiding him behind a large boulder nearby. The massive rock stood out on the riverbank, large enough to conceal two people.

“Thank you, uh… Chen Che! What are you doing here? Where’s the rest of the crew?”

Chen Che crouched beside him behind the boulder, both covered in dirt and grime. A scrape and several bloody streaks marred his pale forehead.

“We fell from the wire together. When I woke up, we were here. I think we might have time-traveled.”

“What makes you say that?” Zhang Xingxing asked, his eyes wide.

“Look,” Chen Che said, gesturing with his chin. “They’re about to fight. Did you hear who they’re after?”

Sixteen black-robed youths simultaneously drew their swords, their blades stirring the air in the canyon. The leader raised his voice, channeling his inner energy as he shouted across the ravine, “Eighteen disciples of Pan Lake Sword Manor await the Sect Leader of the Demonic Cult on the manor lord’s orders! Shen Zhijing, surrender at once!”

Zhang Xingxing gasped, “Shen Zhijing?!”

The name rang familiar. Isn’t that the character I’m playing?!

“Are you saying we’ve transmigrated into the script of Ten Years to Wake from the Jianghu Dream?” Zhang Xingxing grabbed Chen Che by the shoulders.

Chen Che patted his shoulder. “From what we’ve seen so far, it seems that’s exactly what’s happened.”

On the lake’s surface, a small boat floated motionless.

After a rustling inside the cabin, the curtain was drawn back, finally revealing Shen Zhijing’s true appearance.

A tall, slender figure stood at the bow, clad in crimson robes and with ink-black hair flowing like silk. He held a jade-boned folding fan in one hand, his solitary figure radiating an ethereal grace.

“Form the formation!”

The disciples’ expressions shifted as Shen Zhijing emerged. Sword beams intertwined, and the ground beneath their feet grew scorching hot, fueled by their inner energy. “Rise!” Golden light erupted beneath the eighteen disciples’ feet, and a swirling wind enveloped their formation.

In the next moment, the eighteen disciples were lifted into the air by the formation, their leader brandishing his sword first, the others following close behind.

The sword qi from their eighteen blades converged into a single, unstoppable, icy-cold force, descending from above to strike at Shen Zhijing, who stood at the bow of the ship.

Leaning against the railing, Shen Zhijing suddenly smiled, his amber eyes sparkling with a naive, innocent light. His smile was strikingly beautiful.

The surging wind whipped his robes into a frenzy, the sharp tips of the swords almost touching his face.

In the next instant, he raised a hand, extended a single finger, and tapped the air. The overwhelming sword qi, which had seemed capable of crushing mountains, froze in mid-air, unable to advance even an inch further.

The combined power of the eighteen swords was not to be underestimated. Moreover, these disciples had been personally selected by the master of Pan Lake Mountain Manor, their inner strength and martial skills far surpassing those of ordinary practitioners.

Yet eighteen swords wielded by eighteen skilled disciples were no match for the power of Shen Zhijing’s single finger.

“First Senior Brother! What do we do now?!” A disciple in the formation panicked, feeling his inner energy stagnate, making it impossible to maintain the sword array.

The disciple addressed as First Senior Brother gritted his teeth. “Withdraw your swords!”

The others immediately obeyed, attempting to retract their blades. But to their horror, the swords remained stubbornly fixed in place. The disciples looked down in terror.

Shen Zhijing winked mischievously, as if to say, “Guess what I’m going to do next?”

Zhang Xingxing and Chen Che, huddled behind a large rock, watched in stunned silence. Is this the presence of the story’s ultimate villain? So imposing!

Before they could recover from their shock, the disciples in mid-air began plummeting to the ground one after another, their screams echoing through the air.

Shen Zhijing had somehow unfurled his Jade Bone Fan. Standing at the bow of the ship, he smiled as he waved the fan, his demeanor graceful and elegant. His features were as exquisite as a painting, his bearing like that of an immortal descended to earth, radiating an otherworldly charm.

Some disciples splashed into the water, while others crashed onto the rocky shore, each struggling to their feet in disarray.

The First Senior Brother scrambled up, frantically drawing a signal flare from his waist to alert their sect. But before he could activate it, he heard a sharp whoosh beside his ear.

Swish!

A sudden chill turned to searing heat at his throat, and his body went weightless. The last thing he saw was an unfurled fan, its edge slicing through his throat.

The First Senior Brother collapsed to the ground with a muffled thud.

“Senior Brother!” Heartrending cries erupted from the remaining disciples.

Behind the rock, Zhang Xingxing trembled violently, clinging to Chen Che. “We just got transported to the villain’s slaughter scene! Do you think he’ll kill us too?”

Chen Che, ducking his head and frantically scanning for an escape route, tried to reassure him. “If he kills us, we might get sent back. Just think of this as observing a master actor at work. When we get back to the set, you can imitate Shen Zhijing’s mannerisms perfectly. It’ll definitely help you nail the role.”

Zhang Xingxing wailed, “Who cares about acting right now, Brother?! All I’m worried about is that psycho slitting my throat with his fan!”

“Eleven years ago, Shen Zhijing murdered our grandmaster. Now he’s harmed our First Senior Brother. Though our martial skills pale in comparison to yours, we will expend every ounce of our strength today. Even if we die here, we will take your life!”

The disciples, consumed by grief and fury, drew their swords and charged forward in a frenzied swarm.

“Die here…” Shen Zhijing murmured, then lifted his head with a gentle smile. “I shall grant you your wish.”

His gaze turned icy, and with a tap of his foot, he glided across the water’s surface. His sleeves billowed as the Jade Bone Fan whipped through the air, shattering several longswords in the disciples’ hands with a series of lightning-fast strikes.

Battle cries echoed across the lake as swords clashed and blades met in a chaotic dance. A faint crimson tinge stained the river’s surface.

The moonlight poured down like liquid silver, bathing the lake in its ethereal glow. The fan’s jade bones shimmered with cold light, and luminous motes danced across its surface. In Shen Zhijing’s hand, the Jade Bone Fan transformed in an instant, blocking multiple sword strikes simultaneously.

With a flick of his sleeve, Shen Zhijing flipped the fan open. A powerful sweep sent blood spraying as the fan’s edge struck, one Pan Lake Sword Manor disciple after another collapsing unconscious into the water.

It wasn’t until the last disciple fell that Zhang Xingxing finally snapped out of his shock.

Shen Zhijing closed the fan and turned, landing lightly as a swallow on the open deck of the boat. His crimson robes blazed like fire, dancing vividly under the moonlight, not a drop of blood staining the fan.

Then his gaze slowly settled on the rock where Zhang Xingxing and Chen Che were hiding.

Zhang Xingxing: “………”

Chen Che: “………”

“What are you waiting for? Run!” Chen Che yanked Zhang Xingxing, and the two scrambled out from behind the rock.

Two men, both over six feet tall, fleeing hand-in-hand with their heads covered were hardly a dignified sight. The rocky beach was uneven, and as Zhang Xingxing followed Chen Che’s desperate sprint, his long legs suddenly tripped over a stone, sending him sprawling face-first into the mud.

He could almost hear the whistling sound of the fan hurtling toward him—thwack.

A searing pain erupted in his back, radiating through his entire body. Zhang Xingxing’s eyes rolled back, and he collapsed cleanly to the ground, losing consciousness.

Support I Transmigrated Into the Script and Married the Villain