The County Magistrate Isn’t a Scumbag—She’s Very A - Chapter 1

The autumn night wind rose.

Song Boxue forced her eyes open, her head throbbing painfully as a flood of unfamiliar memories surged through her mind.

She had been an Alpha, experiencing her very first heat. Right after injecting a suppressant, she’d suddenly blacked out—and when her consciousness returned, she was here.

If she remembered correctly, those unfamiliar memories told her she had transmigrated into an old anguish-filled ancient-era romance novel she’d once read.

And she was now the cannon-fodder scummy female villain who shared her exact name.

The “scum fiancée” was the heroine’s betrothed—disguised as a man, swindling both money and affection, ruining the heroine’s purity and stealing her dowry.

In short, she was the villainess tool character whose sole purpose was to humiliate and torment the heroine at the start, sending her down a path of silent endurance, fierce growth, and eventual revenge.

Of course, the heroine’s tragic romance wasn’t with her but with the predestined male lead.

She, the villainess, existed only to deliver the early trauma and then be discarded—after the heroine broke both her legs.

Song Boxue rubbed her temples.

Well, this was going to be interesting.

Judging from the original owner’s memories, this ancient world had no Alphas, no Omegas she could bond with, and certainly no suppressants to ease heat cycles.

Great. Even if she managed to escape being crippled by the heroine, she would still be driven mad by a monthly uncontrolled heat.

She rubbed her eyes. Her whole body reeked of cheap liquor.

What scene was this?

Through the dim candlelight, she recognized the furnishings of the original owner’s room.

Had she landed right after the plot where the villainess assaulted the heroine?

Just then, a faint whimper sounded behind her.

Song Boxue stiffened and turned.

On the bed lay a woman—more precisely, a woman who had been trussed up like an animal.

Her wrists and ankles were bound with hemp rope, and she wore only a thin, white undergarment.

A cloth gag filled her mouth. Her brows were delicate as distant mountains, her mist-rimmed eyes full of fear.

Gentle. Ethereal. Exquisite.

What a breathtaking beauty.

Song Boxue’s heart sighed in genuine appreciation—before freezing completely.

No way.

Was this the heroine?

Which meant—she was right in the middle of the plot where the original owner destroyed the heroine’s innocence?

Song Boxue licked the corner of her lips.

Judging by the scene—and the heavy stench of alcohol—the original owner had clearly drunk herself senseless and intended to commit a crime while drunk.

Steadying her nerves, she walked quickly to the bedside and asked, “Jiang Fanyin?”

The heroine, right?

The woman on the bed stiffened, then struggled violently. But the ropes were tied far too tightly for her to break free.

Song Boxue leaned closer, studying her under the candlelight.

Yes—this was exactly the face from the original owner’s memories. The heroine, Jiang Fanyin.

So, the assault was in progress, but the original owner hadn’t succeeded yet.

Good. Not too late to fix this.

Song Boxue hurried to untie the ropes, explaining as she worked, “Don’t be afraid, I’m letting you go. I won’t hurt you. I’m just very drunk.”

Jiang Fanyin said nothing. Her eyes were wet, her lips pale.

When she finally regained her freedom, she tore the cloth from her mouth and instantly curled up in the corner of the bed, guarded and trembling.

Song Boxue froze, silently cursing the original owner for being trash.

Look at how terrified she was.

“Don’t be afraid. I swear I won’t harm you.”

After all, in these novels, anyone who harmed the heroine never met a good end. The original owner herself had had both legs broken.

But her reassurance did little. Jiang Fanyin’s lips pressed into a thin line, her eyes flashing with grim resolve.

The disheveled beauty yanked the hairpin from her hair and held it before her chest.

“Don’t come any closer.”

Song Boxue raised both hands and stopped immediately.

“Alright, don’t panic. I’ll leave right now.”

She turned and walked straight for the door.

At this moment, she was the greatest threat in the heroine’s eyes. Leaving was the best choice—for the heroine’s sake and for her own.

Only when the door shut did Jiang Fanyin finally exhale.

Still gripping the hairpin, she got off the bed, locked the door, then slid down against it, quietly sobbing as her trembling hands held the makeshift weapon.

Outside the room, Song Boxue paused as she realized this was the original owner’s chamber.

Then she heard the suppressed, choked crying inside—strained and gut-wrenching.

She sighed inwardly and walked away.

The last thing Jiang Fanyin needed was to see her again.

Leaving the courtyard, she was immediately greeted by a woman rushing over.

“My child! What good things are in her dowry?”

A richly dressed middle-aged woman grabbed Song Boxue’s sleeve and tugged her toward another courtyard.

Song Boxue stared blankly for a moment, forgetting to pull away.

The original owner’s mother, Madam Song.

She would end up with the exact same fate as the original owner—both legs broken in the end.

Watching Madam Song strut around as if nothing could touch her, Song Boxue couldn’t help rolling her eyes inwardly.

Truly a mother-daughter pair who suffered together to the bitter end—neither had escaped in the original plot.

They walked together into the neighboring courtyard. Only after closing the gate behind them did Madam Song finally release her sleeve.

“My child, hurry and tell me—what valuables does that Jiang girl carry on her?”

Song Boxue choked.

No wonder this woman didn’t escape calamity either—she was so fixated on the heroine’s dowry it would’ve been strange if she had survived unscathed.

She quickly organized her words, putting on a frightened expression.

“I didn’t succeed. It seems someone is secretly protecting Jiang Fanyin. We really shouldn’t lay a hand on her.”

This was actually true. The heroine had a destined male lead protecting her—he simply hadn’t appeared yet.

For now, coaxing Madam Song out of her greedy schemes was the smart move. No need to repeat history.

Madam Song frowned.

“Well, she is the daughter of an official family. Even if she’s fallen on hard times, she still has support behind her. Forget it—our household isn’t starving. Feeding one extra idle person won’t make or break us.”

Song Boxue hadn’t expected Madam Song to drop the matter so easily.

The book barely described her beyond calling her short-sighted, but she wasn’t as terrible as expected.

This made things much easier.

In her past life, she had been an orphan. Now that she had taken over the original owner’s body, she had no reason to abandon the mother who came with it.

She immediately said, “We treated Jiang Fanyin too harshly before. It’s better if we leave this troublesome place as soon as possible. If someone behind her takes revenge, we’ll suffer for it.”

Yes—leave quickly. Get as far away from the heroine as possible. The world was wide, and life could be wonderfully peaceful away from the plot.

Who knew Madam Song would reach out and smack her forehead.

“Leave what? You’ve only been the county magistrate for a month! How are you going to face your dead father if you don’t earn some silver while you can?

Oh, my poor husband—he died before he ever saw you succeed, sob, sob.”

Song Boxue’s mouth twitched.

She’d forgotten—the original owner was a newly appointed county magistrate, and her eventual imprisonment was for corruption.

A heavy feeling settled in her chest.

She absolutely could not stay here.

“We’ll resign in the morning. I’ll quit and we’ll leave.”

“Quit your head!” Madam Song smacked her forehead again.

“You just accepted Lord Wang’s silver and haven’t finished the job he gave you. Who’s going to clean up the mess if you run?”

Madam Song tapped her again, muttering to herself.

Why was her daughter so stupid today? Had she been scared witless by the mysterious people protecting Jiang Fanyin?

Rubbing her forehead, Song Boxue slumped into a chair.

“Stop knocking me. Let me think.”

She took a deep breath and sorted through the original owner’s memories—then froze.

The original owner had been an absolute fool.

Only a month into office, and she’d already accepted two bribes. How greedy could she be? And now she’d left Song Boxue with this massive mess to clean up.

It seemed running was impossible for the time being.

If she fled now, there would be no one to cover up the corruption, and she’d end up a wanted criminal.

Song Boxue touched her knees.

Her healthy, functioning legs—she had to protect them at all costs.

Her gaze sharpened. The heroine, her future threat, needed to be dealt with properly.

But how?

“For now, we won’t leave,” she said at last. “But you must treat Jiang Fanyin better from now on. Otherwise, the people protecting her might hold a grudge.”

She wasn’t sure when the destined male lead would appear, but it didn’t hurt to invoke his nonexistent presence to scare Madam Song away from causing trouble.

Madam Song rolled her eyes.

“Better how? She’s your fiancée—my daughter-in-law. What, do you expect me to serve her?”

Song Boxue picked up the teapot and poured herself some tea.

“You know perfectly well I’m a woman. ‘Daughter-in-law’ is all nonsense.”

Madam Song waved her hand dismissively.

“Fanyin knows too. Didn’t she say she volunteered to cover for you? What’s there to fear? Once you two marry, the people protecting her might even start protecting you.”

Clink.

The teacup fell from Song Boxue’s hand and shattered on the floor.