The Heroines I’ve Flirted With Are Bound to Go OOC - Chapter 1

Ye Naitang was a huge fan of “Stallion Novels” (male-oriented harem fantasies), yet she was the type of fan whose devotion manifested as constant criticism.

She was a professional anti-fan. On her homepage, she would bookmark novels she liked, but she never bothered with praise. However, the moment something rubbed her the wrong way, she would post a review. Her comments either blasted the antagonists for having “appalling IQs” or sprayed the male leads for being “useless bums”—questioning how such men could ever deserve the countless heroines who threw themselves at them, or why every heavenly treasure in existence just happened to fall into their laps.

Thanks to Ye Naitang, the book review sections were often a toxic mess, serving as the opening act for endless flame wars. For every person who liked a book, there was someone who hated it; thus, the crowds who agreed with Ye Naitang’s views and the hardcore fans tore into each other constantly.

Everyone transformed into “irascible brothers” (internet trolls). Some authors suffered so much from this that they felt stifled, leading to slow updates, and some even stopped writing altogether. Such behavior had an extremely negative impact.

Yet, Ye Naitang herself remained blissfully unaware, continuing her ways as she pleased.

Until one day, she received an email from an unknown sender:

“The Great God of Stallion Novels is putting a curse on you~ I’m going to make you one of the harem members for those trashy male leads. You must throw yourself at him; otherwise, something very terrifying will happen. ^_^”

(Note: This curse will automatically lift after you transmigrate through 99 Stallion Novels. We look forward to your performance.)

“Who sent this prank? What a load of nonsense…” Ye Naitang muttered. Besides, even if it were true, what “terrifying thing” could happen? It was just a scare tactic.

Ye Naitang sneered and was about to close the email when a sudden wave of dizziness hit her. The girl’s body swayed, her vision went black, and she collapsed heavily onto her keyboard.

The water glass on the edge of the desk wobbled, splashing a few drops that reflected her young, beautiful face. The email flashed a few times and vanished into thin air. On the computer screen, the cursor moved without a hand to guide it, clicking into a novel that spanned three million words.

In the Xuanwu Continent, the further east one traveled, the thicker the spiritual energy became. The west was the exact opposite—the spiritual energy was exceptionally barren, making cultivation almost impossible. Consequently, cultivators flocked to the east, fighting tooth and nail for a spot. Over time, an extreme situation arose: the west became a dumping ground for mortals. Aside from exiled criminals, no one wanted to go to that ghostly place.

The ecosystems on both sides were vastly different. One side nurtured rare spiritual herbs amidst beautiful mountains and rivers; the other resembled a loess plateau, with dust and sand dancing in the sky. Forget growing vegetation—even wild beasts couldn’t survive long there.

Later, in this territory known as the Western Regions, a special profession emerged: Beast Seekers. They strove to find wild beast cubs at the earliest possible stage to raise them. When the beasts were fat enough, they were slaughtered and stewed in a giant pot to be shared with the entire village.

They shared the fortunes and endured the hardships together. In such a desperate environment, the beautiful side of humanity shone brightly. They knew that only by uniting could they welcome a glimmer of light in a hopeless future.

Today, the blazing sun hung high. Across the wasteland, a small team marched in a grand procession, searching for beasts as they always did. Not far from the group, a fluffy, ball-like creature lay beside a protruding mound of earth. The leader, a man of sturdy build, showed wild joy on his face. He rushed forward with hurried steps, hoping in his heart that this “beast” was still alive in this harsh environment.

However, as he drew closer and saw the creature’s appearance, he froze.

The “creature” wore a water-blue Immortal’s Dress. Despite being surrounded by dust, she remained untainted by a single speck of dirt. Her silver hair fell like a waterfall, veiling her face and revealing only a delicate, pale chin. Her long hair shimmered like moonlight pouring down, every strand flowing with radiance.

…What is this?

A lost child from some noble family? The man immediately dismissed the thought. He brushed aside the girl’s hair, revealing a face of such pure beauty it was breathtaking. Indeed, with looks like these, she couldn’t be a rough child from the Western Regions; she likely came from the Eastern Regions.

“Take her back,” the man ordered. There was no reason to pass up meat that had been delivered to them. Rather than letting her waste away here and turn into a handful of yellow soil, it was better to feed her to the tribe’s starving beast cubs.

It was only when they picked the girl up that they noticed a large bloodstain on her back. It had already turned black and scabbed over, yet strangely, her clothes were completely undamaged and as good as new.

A sharp glint flashed in his eyes as he began to scheme.

Time passed. The sun set, and night in the Western Regions presented a completely different landscape. Chilly winds gusted through the rows of houses built behind the earthen slopes, coating them in a layer of coldness.

Ye Naitang opened her eyes, feeling a bit dazed by the unfamiliar surroundings. Currently, she was lying on a kang (a brick bed with a hollow interior for fire-heating). Her clothes were half-off, and she lay on her stomach on the small bed, her back facing a teenage girl with chocolate-colored skin.

“You’re awake? How do you feel?” The girl gave a shy smile, tucking her yellowed, curly hair behind her ear—a sign of malnutrition. She put away a medicine bottle and covered the girl on the bed with a quilt, her movements cautious for fear of touching the wound.

Ye Naitang was confused for a moment but quickly recovered, casting her gaze toward the girl. Her voice lacked strength and sounded like a soft, milky coo: “I feel okay… I’m Ye Naitang, and you? Also, may I ask what is in that bottle in your hand?”

Truth be told, she had been woken up by the pain. Her back felt like it was on fire, nearly losing all sensation. She shifted her eyes to examine her surroundings and concluded that she had transmigrated into a young girl’s body and that this place was relatively backward. The girl before her wore clothes woven from beast skins, suggesting that many technologies were not yet mature. This made her doubt the effectiveness of the medicine and the method of treating her injury.

“I… I’m Er Bao,” the girl named Er Bao answered bashfully. She raised her right hand, holding a white porcelain bottle, and introduced it honestly: “This is grease refined from a White Void Beast. It’s been passed down from our ancestors and is very effective. After applying it, the wound will heal within a few incense sticks’ time, and it won’t leave a scar.”

It would be such a pity to leave a scar on such fair skin, Er Bao thought to herself. As she met the eyes of the girl on the bed, those clear, blue pupils—like lake water—sent ripples through her heart. “You rest well! I’m going outside to see if dinner is ready!” The girl blurted this out awkwardly and rushed out, closing the door behind her.

A bit of cold wind leaked in, clearing Ye Naitang’s feverish mind. White Void Beasts, dark-skinned women, backward architecture… The clues linked together, and an answer was about to emerge.

Ye Naitang had solved the case: this was the world of the novel The Divine Lucky Mortal’s Record of Cultivation. It was the first book she had read after getting into the genre. Because it had been so long, she couldn’t remember the scenes clearly, but she remembered the main plot perfectly.

The reason was simple: it was so damn melodramatic that words couldn’t even describe it. In short, it had left a deep psychological scar on her.

Actually, if one couldn’t stand a book, they could just stop reading. But this story started out quite normal. Halfway through, the author abandoned all logic for the sake of “face-slapping” and “gratification.” The male lead began mindlessly collecting a harem, not even sparing a dog. He neglected his other concubines to spend 50,000 words describing ambiguous, “indescribable” scenes with a dog.

Ye Naitang couldn’t take it. She skipped over a hundred chapters of paid content, only to find the male lead was still petting the dog and the plot hadn’t moved at all. Feeling toyed with, she posted a long review blasting the book from beginning to end—from the supporting characters to the protagonist. She told everyone to stop subscribing, calling it trash and nonsense. She begged the author to just turn it into a “cute pet” story, saying she wanted to see the protagonist conquer the world, not whatever that was, and accused the author of misleading readers for money.

Then, Ye Naitang decisively dropped the novel.

Three years later, she was cursed by the Stallion God, and her starting point was this very book. One could say it was truly instant karma. She wondered if the author had ever finished the story, or if the protagonist was still hopelessly obsessed with petting that dog.

Because thinking consumed her energy, drowsiness washed over her. Ye Naitang closed her eyes. The pain in her back faded, replaced by a tingling, cool sensation.

The fat of a White Void Beast was regarded as a supreme treasure in the cultivation world, impossible to buy even for a thousand gold pieces. Refined into a potion, it could regrow flesh on bones; if used in smithing, it doubled the success rate of upgrading spiritual tools. It was like a “universal oil” that worked wonders with anything it touched. The villagers were truly “bleeding out” by using it on her. One had to know that White Void Beasts were rare finds, and the grease in that bottle was likely all they had left.

“Rarity makes a thing valuable”—they should understand this principle better than anyone. But currently, Ye Naitang was just a weak, pitiable, and helpless little girl with nothing to offer. So, what were they after?

She had forgotten most of the original plot, only vaguely remembering a few important settings. Ye Naitang didn’t dare assume the character of the Western Region residents—were they simple and kind? Or selfish and calculating? If it was the latter, her life was a tragedy; she might have been picked up just to be raised as a child bride.

“I’m back.” The door cracked open, and Er Bao entered the room holding two bowls the size of an adult’s fist. She closed the door, her cheeks likely red from the cold. “Are you hungry? Come, eat more…” The girl placed the bowl on the table by the bed and said sincerely, “You’re too thin and weak, and your injury… did your family treat you poorly?”

Realizing this might be an inappropriate thing to say, Er Bao quickly added, “Don’t worry, no one will bully you here! I guarantee we’ll raise you until you’re white and chubby.”

“Thank you.” The savory aroma of meat wafted to her nose; Ye Naitang was indeed hungry. She sat up and reached her right hand into her clothes to feel her back. It felt silky smooth; the beast grease had been completely absorbed, and her skin was as perfect as before. “And thank you for the medicine.”

From Er Bao’s perspective, the girl’s blue eyes still held a faint, somewhat cold color. After thanking her, the girl picked up the bowl, took a spoonful of soup, and lowered her head to take a careful sip.

Immediately, her ice-like eyes rippled as if melted by the winter sun. Her pink lips, moistened by the soup, parted slightly, revealing her pearly teeth and a tiny glimpse of her tongue.

Ye Naitang was stunned. The soup was as white as milk without a hint of gaminess. It was savory, rich but not overpowering, oily but not greasy. She took a piece of meat and marveled even more: This meat must belong to the heavens; how often can one find it in the mortal world?

“Sister Er Bao, what kind of meat is this?” Ye Naitang asked casually, shamelessly calling her “Sister” to bridge the gap. She would likely have to deal with her in the future, and being familiar would make things easier.

“The meat of a Five-Tailed Fox,” the girl replied.

Ye Naitang’s hand froze. her expression petrified as the bowl in her hand suddenly felt like it weighed a thousand pounds.

The Five-Tailed Fox—a Seventh-Rank Spirit Beast. Its bloodline was related to the ancient Phoenix race. If raised well, it could even evolve into a Semi-Divine Beast, capable of insta-killing other low-rank spirit beasts. They were rare, and cultivators flocked to them, dreaming of obtaining one.

In fact, the male lead had one as a mount, which later evolved into a true Divine Beast, making everyone green with envy. However, no one knew that its meat was so incredibly delicious.

…After all, who would ever be heartless enough to eat it?!