My Arranged Marriage Partner Is Always Pretending to Be Straight [Transmigrated into a Book] - Chapter 1

Today, Qiao Mengdi was once again woken up by the raw sensation of hunger.

After a violent struggle, she managed to climb out of her soft, oversized bed, gasping for air from the sheer effort. Once she caught her breath, she weakly stroked her abdomen, which had collapsed inward until it felt like it was touching her spine. Her skin felt chilly to the touch. She prayed that Sister Song would appear soon.

No matter how much this body resisted—even if the mere sight of food triggered a physiological gag reflex—she was determined to eat something today. Even if she had to force-feed herself, she would!

She didn’t want to die of starvation at such a young age in this spacious, beautiful room.

Gradually, her vision blurred. The room began to spin, and her body felt as though it were drifting away from the bed…

Knock, knock, knock.

The sound of the door timely pulled her scattering consciousness back. The heavy wooden door was pushed open.

As expected, it was Sister Song. She wore a light purple domestic uniform and a white apron, pushing a small meal cart.

“Xiao Die, I cooked the seafood porridge you like,” she said as she walked over. The gurgling sound of the meal cart’s wheels was oddly pleasant to the ear.

“Sister Song—” Qiao Mengdi wanted to thank the domestic worker who had been bringing her three meals a day, but the moment she opened her mouth, her strength failed her.

“Xiao Die, listen to Sister Song’s advice. You can’t keep ruining your body like this!”

Qiao Mengdi gave a weak smile. That pale, fragile expression made Sister Song’s heart tighten painfully.

It wasn’t that she didn’t want to eat; it was that this body—this body—kept carrying out the will of its original owner.

Qiao Mengdie had been in this body for two days now.

The owner of this body was the heroine of a GL (Girls’ Love) novel titled Blood and Tears of Marriage, which she had been reading two nights ago.

While reading, seeing that the heroine shared her name, she had even joked, “Could this be a warning of a ‘transmigration into a book’?”

The book told the story of two straight women forced into an arranged marriage. While reading, Qiao Mengdie had kept waiting for the leads to change their sexual orientation, but the plot had gradually gone off the rails. First, the heroine fell in love with her marriage partner’s cousin. Then, the heroine caused a chaotic scene demanding a divorce, leaving the relationship in tatters.

Even so, the marriage partner still forgave the heroine.

Then came another wave of “dog-blood” melodrama: the heroine, unable to get her divorce, decided to commit suicide with her lover. However, the cousin she planned to die with backed out at the last second and didn’t take the poison…

Despite her determination to “finish a book no matter how bad the plot,” Qiao Mengdie had gotten so angry at the heroine’s actions that she slammed the book shut halfway through.

The heroine’s behavior and the plot’s direction were disappointing. She never saw the character development she expected.

To her surprise, she woke up the next morning inside the world of the book.

After waking up in the room described in the novel, she experienced waves of piercing headaches. During those episodes, the original owner’s memories poured into her mind like a flood.

On the first day of her arrival, Qiao Mengdie had panicked and prayed, hoping it was all a dream. However, she still hadn’t detached from this world. The more she tried to confirm it was a dream, the more desperate she felt.

After finally calming down, she used the original owner’s memories to realize that the current timeline was the third day after the original owner’s marriage to Yao Chiyue, the CEO of Blue Heron Biopharmaceutical Group, had been finalized.

The novel mentioned that the heroine strongly opposed the marriage, but it didn’t detail how she resisted—after all, she and Yao Chiyue did end up getting married.

Only after entering the book did Qiao Mengdie realize the heroine had used a hunger strike—a nearly foolish method—to protest against her father, Qiao Chengrong. It was far too weak, and predictably, it had no effect.

Around noon on her first day there, Qiao Chengrong had personally brought food to the room to visit her, attempting to coax her into eating.

At that time, Qiao Mengdie was already too hungry to get out of bed. In her heart, she wanted to eat. Qiao Chengrong could tell by the way she stared at the food. He placed the tray on a small table and moved it in front of her, advising: “Listen to Papa. Don’t throw away your bright future.”

Qiao Mengdie sneered inwardly. This middle-aged man looked dignified and righteous; a stranger might think he was a devoted father acting in his daughter’s best interest. In reality, he was a hypocrite.

His so-called “bright future” was actually about himself. After all, to run for regional chief executive, he had already accepted funding from Yao Chiyue.

Qiao Mengdie stared silently at the delicacies. Qiao Chengrong must have had Sister Song prepare them specifically; only Sister Song knew the original owner liked crab meat and tofu porridge.

Back then, she was already dizzy with hunger, but the original owner’s memories reminded her that three days ago, she had said, “I would rather starve to death than marry a woman.” However, compared to the torment of starvation, the original owner’s pride was no longer a high priority. Moreover, Qiao Mengdie felt that a hunger strike was a useless way to avoid marrying Yao Chiyue.

As for why the heroine eventually married Yao Chiyue, the novel claimed it was due to even greater pressure.

Many details omitted from the novel were now being experienced by Qiao Mengdie firsthand.

The aroma of the food stimulated her fragile taste buds and nerves. She wanted so badly to forget the original owner’s resistance and feast in front of this hypocritical man.

As it turned out, even though she wanted to eat, the moment her right hand reached for the utensils, that weak body suddenly erupted with a burst of rage that startled her. By the time she snapped out of it, the bowls, plates, and spoons on the table had been swept off the bed by her right hand. The porcelain shattered on the floor with a loud crash, splashing soup and food everywhere.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, Qiao Chengrong stiffened, a vein throbbing at his temple. He hadn’t expected his usually obedient daughter to become so stubborn. He stood up abruptly, glanced at the mess on the floor, and scolded harshly: “You! If you won’t eat, you aren’t allowed to waste food like this!”

Qiao Mengdie remained indifferent, turning a deaf ear to his scolding and ignoring his anger.

Though she should have been terrified by this scene, Qiao Mengdie felt no heartbeat. She suddenly realized that at this moment—long before the suicide attempt in the novel—the heroine’s heart had already died once.

Although the remnant will of the original owner was still using the hunger strike to protest the marriage, because she couldn’t escape the room or her father’s control, she had likely already resigned herself to fate.

The more Qiao Mengdie understood the original owner’s situation, the angrier she became, and the less she wanted to deal with Qiao Chengrong.

Losing his patience, Qiao Chengrong dropped the ultimatum he had given before: “You leave this room only when you start eating!” He then left the room in a fit of rage.

After he disappeared, Sister Song, who had been standing by, silently came over to clean up the mess, sighing and offering comfort as she worked.

Qiao Mengdie looked at the food on the floor. Her stomach churned, and she began to retch—vomiting until her world turned dark and her face was covered in tears.

And then, she starved for two more days.

During these two days, Qiao Mengdie wanted to eat, but the original owner’s body would reflexively gag and vomit as soon as food got close.

“Sister Song,” Qiao Mengdie leaned against the headboard, having finally gathered a bit of strength, “Do you think… I might die?”

Her voice was thin as a thread. Her closed lips were covered in a thin, white frost, and her eyes were sunken, having lost their usual luster.

Anyone who saw Qiao Mengdie now would feel their heart break.

If the body continued to reject food, Qiao Mengdie felt she wouldn’t last through the day. Five days without eating—no one’s body could survive being separated from food for that long!

Sister Song, thinking she was still unwilling to eat, pleaded: “Xiao Die, please eat something. Just a little bit.” Her tone bordered on begging.

Qiao Mengdie didn’t answer.

Sister Song looked at her again, her eyes moistening unconsciously.

Qiao Mengdie’s face was deathly pale, devoid of life.

Several times, Sister Song had almost been tempted to just let Qiao Mengdie go. To her, imprisoning a beautiful girl was simply too cruel. But she understood even better that a “greenhouse flower” like Qiao Mengdie, who knew nothing of the world’s hardships, might die even faster if she were out on her own.

Sister Song privately thought that marrying Yao Chiyue was a good choice for Qiao Mengdie, but she didn’t dare say it.

“I—” Qiao Mengdie opened her mouth and stopped. She wanted to agree, but she was afraid her body wouldn’t accept it.

“Xiao Die, wait a moment. I’ll get a warm towel to wipe you down.” Sister Song heard a glimmer of possibility in her voice and seized the opportunity.

Sister Song had basically raised Qiao Mengdie and liked the girl very much. Who wouldn’t like a beautiful girl?

It was just a pity that though she was born into a powerful family, she didn’t have a free body.

Qiao Mengdie remained leaning against the headboard, watching Sister Song disappear into the bathroom. She lowered her head, her gaze falling on the back of her hand resting on her stomach.

After some thought, she gently tried to reason with herself in her mind: Qiao Mengdie, oh Qiao Mengdie, don’t you think a hunger strike is a weak method? If you don’t want to get married, find a way to run away! Run far away, never come back to this house, and never see your hypocritical father again! Please, don’t vomit today, okay? If you want to cancel the wedding, fine, no problem. I don’t want to starve to death, so please, I beg you, eat first. Leave everything else to me. Let’s escape this hellhole together, along with those disgusting people—

The sound of Sister Song’s returning footsteps interrupted Qiao Mengdie’s internal monologue.

Having no strength, she allowed Sister Song to wipe her face like a puppet.

The warm, damp towel brushed against her soft cheeks, stirring a bit of circulation. The faint pink flush that emerged caused the haggard look on her beautiful face to recede slightly.

When the towel moved to her hand, Qiao Mengdie suddenly heard a voice from deep within her heart: “Please, live well!”

Live well?

Qiao Mengdie was stunned. Live well here? Why did those words sound like the original owner was saying goodbye?!

Now, aside from the resistance to food, there was almost no other trace of the original owners will leave in this body. Although the body contained the memories of two people, the consciousness was only Qiao Mengdie’s.

So, was the original owner leaving completely?

Qiao Mengdie felt a sharp sting in her heart, over and over.

Sister Song finished wiping her down and brought the food to her. This time, she didn’t gag, nor did she feel malice toward the food. This change indirectly verified her suspicion.

The original Qiao Mengdie was gone! Looking at the light seafood porridge, the golden radish strips, and the fried egg shaped like a sun, tears uncontrollably welled up in Qiao Mengdie’s eyes.

She felt it wasn’t worth it—the original owner’s current heartbreak, and much later in the book, when that man gave her an illusion of love and brought her heart back to life, only for them to plan a suicide… it was all so unnecessary.

Why give up on life? Isn’t it wonderful just to be alive!

A loveless marriage is still better than falling for someone who will lead you to destruction!

Besides, as Yao Chiyue’s partner, she would at least be a wealthy woman with no worries about food or clothing. Wouldn’t that be great?

If it were me, I wouldn’t give that cousin the time of day!

Facing the food, Qiao Mengdie’s thoughts were a mess, making her head ache slightly.

Perhaps the original owner finally realized that dying for love wasn’t worth it, but it was too late. That was why she left the instruction: “Please, live well.”

Before this moment, Qiao Mengdie had held onto a tiny shred of hope that this was just a vivid, specific, long, and terrifying dream.

Dreams eventually end.

But now, she felt that hope was very, very slim.

The heroine of Blood and Tears of Marriage shared more than just her name. Since arriving, Qiao Mengdie discovered they looked exactly the same, down to the shape and size of the mole on her chest. Their ID cards were identical except for the addresses. Even their blood types and college majors were the same. Even the skincare products on the dressing table were the same brand…

Qiao Mengdie was born in Luzhou, and the setting of the book was also Luzhou.

On the day she arrived, she checked the heroine’s phone and found that the date was exactly the same as her original life. In other words, the heroine’s marriage was happening in what would have been her own future.

Later, she went online and found that the world in the book was identical to her original world. Everything that should be there was there, as if the book had copied the entire real world.

However, that “identical” world did not include Qiao Mengdie’s original existence. Her identity information, social media accounts, phone number, and life history—all were blank.

Everything she could check online over the past two days confirmed it: it was as if she had never existed in Luzhou. All traces of her had been wiped away. Content she had posted was gone.

The photos and posts about her on her sister’s and classmates’ Weibo accounts had evaporated. When she tried to log into her email and social accounts, she was met with “incorrect username or password.” Every phone number she could remember, including her own, was a disconnected number.

Meanwhile, the original owner’s history was all searchable online. Her Weibo was full of the details of her life. Her WeChat had many chat records, and her Moments were filled with various moods and posts. These past few days, people had been inviting her to events, hot pot, or movies, asking why she wasn’t replying or answering the phone…

She was still in a daze. Was this a long dream that wouldn’t end, or was the “transmigration” a cold, hard fact?

Qiao Mengdie wanted to confirm this as soon as possible. It was more important than canceling the wedding.

She had to recover her strength. Since she was in Luzhou and the time was the same, and since her original sister and classmates could still be found online, she had a plan. Her mother’s bakery’s phone number didn’t work, but she remembered the address perfectly. She just needed to go to that familiar place and find someone she knew to confirm everything.

If it was a dream, seeing her family would surely wake her up!

That was her final hope. Thinking of this, Qiao Mengdie wept as she began to eat in large gulps.