The Beautiful, Strong, and Tragic Female Lead is Mine [Transmigration Into a Novel] - Chapter 2

The dagger before his eyes was as thin as a cicada’s wing, its gleaming blade dazzling to the point of making one’s vision blur.

Xiao Wen only felt a chilling draft brush past his neck, and he instinctively reached up to touch it.

Steadying himself, he decided that for now, it was best to go along with Xie Zhitian. “Of course I know. Anyone the young lady dislikes will naturally meet a bad end.”

“As long as you understand.”

Xie Zhitian leaned lazily against the soft chair, her thin lips slightly parted. “Xiang Nan, see him out.”

He had barely arrived and was already being dismissed. Xiao Wen’s face darkened, but constrained by Xie Zhitian’s status, he could only grit his teeth and say, “Since the young lady is in a bad mood, I won’t disturb you further. I’ll come again another day.”

【Successfully stopped male lead Xiao Wen’s PUA behavior. Froze 3 points.】

【Successfully stopped male lead Xiao Wen’s PUA behavior. Froze 5 points.】

【Male lead Xiao Wen’s currently available points: 864.】

Eight points frozen in one go—at this rate, sending that scumbag packing was only a matter of time.

Looking at the words flashing across her anti-romance system panel, satisfaction flickered in Xie Zhitian’s long, narrow eyes, but she quickly fell into thought.

Xiao Wen had just mentioned that Luo Yang was injured, and that worried her.

And when people are injured, they’re at their most vulnerable. If the scumbag chose this moment to take advantage of her, things could get very troublesome.

Narrowing her eyes, Xie Zhitian called out to Xiang Nan, who was about to leave.

“Where is Luo Yang right now?”

Already shaken by Xie Zhitian’s sudden outburst of temper earlier, Xiang Nan had been even more frightened when she’d lopped off the head of a figurine. Hearing her suddenly call him again, his body stiffened.

Even someone like Xiao Wen, who could normally speak a few words in front of the young lady, had just been cowed into silence. What chance did a small, insignificant underling like him have?

Turning around cautiously, he said, “Young lady, Luo Yang is locked in the basement. Did you forget?”

Xie Zhitian’s eyes trembled slightly.

The basement?

Luo Yang was already injured—how could the original owner have locked her in a place like that?

Her heart raced in anxiety, though outwardly she remained calm. “Take me there.”

Xiang Nan quickly obeyed, pulling open the door for her and gesturing for her to follow.

It was only when she stepped outside that Xie Zhitian realized her residence was far grander than she had imagined.

It was a two-story villa, spacious and bright, clearly decorated with care.

The clock on the wall showed just past nine in the morning. Sunlight streamed in through spotless glass, scattering over a floor so clean it gleamed. Everywhere, bright flowers adorned the house, their leaves glistening with fresh dew.

On the way, Xie Zhitian tested the waters. “Xiang Nan, I’ve had terrible headaches these past couple of days, and my memory’s hazy… Why did I lock Luo Yang up again?”

Xiang Nan didn’t really understand why she suddenly had headaches and memory lapses, but given that the young lady’s mind had never worked particularly well, it wasn’t impossible that she’d forgotten after tormenting someone.

He answered honestly: “Because you said that although the situation has stabilized, we still need to treasure food. Luo Yang actually used provisions to feed a cat, which you said deserved punishment.”

In truth, the food Luo Yang used came from what she had scrimped and saved from her own labor, not waste at all.

If you had to call it waste, then she was only wasting herself.

But Xiang Nan knew reasoning with this domineering young lady was pointless. Besides, everyone knew she only targeted Luo Yang because of Xiao Wen. Though he was dissatisfied, he dared not defend Luo Yang.

Xie Zhitian pondered this, then asked, “How many days has she been locked up?”

“Three days,” Xiang Nan replied.

He hesitated a moment, then seemed to summon courage. “Young lady, you said before that locking her up for three days would teach her a lesson, so she wouldn’t dare again. Besides, if your parents find out you treated Luo Yang this way while they were away, they’ll be furious.”

Though he didn’t say it outright, Xie Zhitian immediately understood his meaning.

He was reminding her that three days were up, and she ought to release Luo Yang. He even invoked her parents’ authority to add pressure.

It seemed Xiang Nan wasn’t such a bad person after all.

Acknowledging his words, Xie Zhitian said, “You’re right. That’s exactly why I’m going—to let her out.”

Xiang Nan’s eyes lit up, and he even picked up his pace.

The two of them descended stone steps, moving through a narrow, dim corridor until a rusted iron door came into view. The place was entirely out of step with the villa’s elegance—long neglected, the air was tinged with mildew.

A heavy iron lock hung on the door, with a rectangular slot below it, clearly meant for passing things inside.

“Give me the key,” Xie Zhitian said.

Confused, Xiang Nan reminded her, “Young lady, you always kept the key yourself. Maybe check your coat pocket?”

Sure enough, she found an iron key in her sweater pocket.

With a creak, the heavy door swung open.

The sight inside made Xie Zhitian frown.

The room was dim, damp, and cold, lit only by a small window near the ceiling.

The stone floor was icy hard. In one corner lay a thin pile of straw, covered with a tattered, filthy sheet.

A frail figure was curled upon it, made all the smaller by the emptiness around her. She was wrapped in a thin quilt, her body trembling beneath it.

Her long black hair hung in messy strands across her face, concealing most of it and leaving only a small, delicate chin exposed.

Beside the bedding sat a metal tray that matched the slot in the door, holding a bowl of clear water and a dry bun, of which only a small bite had been eaten.

How could anyone treat an injured person this way?

And hadn’t the little system said Luo Yang was a genetically modified combat weapon, a walking war machine? How had she ended up so wretched? And why did she endure such bullying without fighting back?

Though doubts swirled in her mind, Xie Zhitian knew the urgent matter was to get Luo Yang out of this hellhole. The rest she would figure out later, after settling Luo Yang somewhere safe.

She stepped forward and brushed aside the long hair covering Luo Yang’s face.

A sharp breath escaped her lips.

Before her was a beauty of otherworldly grace. The frailty brought by injury didn’t diminish her allure but added a touch of ethereal fragility, like a piece of fine porcelain—so delicate one could only want to cradle her with care.

Xie Zhitian saw her eyes closed, her face pale, though tinged with an abnormal flush. Suspicion pricked at her heart.

She reached out and touched her smooth forehead. Sure enough—it was burning hot.

Luo Yang had a fever.

Likely from an infected wound.

Xie Zhitian’s gaze darkened. She turned to Xiang Nan. “Leave us.”

She wanted to examine Luo Yang’s wounds and, if necessary, treat them with medicines from her portable space. That wouldn’t be convenient with someone else present.

Seeing her serious expression, Xiang Nan faltered, nervous. “Young lady, y-you need to calm down…”

His terrified look was as though he thought she was about to torture Luo Yang again.

The corner of Xie Zhitian’s mouth twitched. “Wait at the door. I won’t hurt her. I may even treat her, but you can’t peek. Understood?”

Xiang Nan’s expression was one of disbelief, clearly doubtful. But he didn’t dare disobey her. After a moment’s struggle, he reluctantly left, standing obediently outside the door.

Xie Zhitian pulled her gaze back. Just as she lifted the quilt, something beneath it suddenly shifted.

Then a furry little head popped out.

A white cat.

It was beautiful, with big, watery eyes. Yet its once fluffy coat was matted with dust, a little pitiful from the harsh environment.

The cat was affectionate, unafraid of strangers. It nuzzled eagerly into Xie Zhitian’s palm, warm and ticklish.

Her heart melted. She scooped the cat up and gently stroked it. The little thing closed its eyes in comfort, mewing several times.

At that moment, the girl on the bed furrowed her brows and slowly opened her eyes.

When she saw Xie Zhitian, her gaze turned cold as she abruptly sat up.

But then, spotting the cat nestled in Xie Zhitian’s arms, her face drained of color. She lunged forward to snatch it back.

Yet the movement tugged at her unhealed wounds, and pain forced a muffled groan from her lips. Losing her balance, she toppled backward.

Before she could hit the cold floor, a warm, steady hand caught her.

Luo Yang froze, staring in disbelief.

Xie Zhitian held the cat in one arm while supporting Luo Yang’s back with the other, easily bearing her weight.

Through the thin fabric, Luo Yang felt the warmth of her palm with startling clarity.

Xie Zhitian carefully helped her sit upright, then offered the cat back. “Here, yours.”

Luo Yang hesitated, suspicion clouding her eyes, as though wondering what new trick this mercurial young lady was playing.

But in the end, she reached out and gathered the cat protectively into her arms.

The quilt slipped aside, revealing her scarred, frail body.

The room was cold and damp, yet she wore only a thin cotton dress. The neckline hung loose, exposing starkly pale collarbones. Her exposed skin was wrapped in grimy bandages, still oozing blood.

How could such a lovely girl have endured such torment?

Xie Zhitian felt both anger and distress. Still, seeing that Luo Yang could move about on her own reassured her somewhat.

“Come with me. Bring the cat,” she said.

At her words, the faint ease that had just returned to Luo Yang’s posture vanished.

She stood slowly, shielding the cat behind her.

Her dark eyes fixed on Xie Zhitian, cold and stubborn, yet with the innocence of a child.

“It has nothing to do with the cat. I insisted on feeding it.”

Her voice was beautiful, like the tinkling of a spring, each word striking straight into the heart.

“If the young lady must punish someone, punish me.”

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