Transmigrated Into the Stand-In of the Tragic Novel’s Heroine - Chapter 1

The weather in Yu City (Chongqing) was capricious.

In March on Gantan Street, the plane trees on both sides could no longer completely block the scorching midday sun. Pedestrians hurried along, seemingly impatient with the sudden heat wave and perhaps trying to shake off the long-honking horns behind them.

The leisurely pace of Xie Qingtang made her particularly conspicuous among the busy crowd.

By now, three months had passed since she had been placed in this “retirement” world—it was clear that she had given up on contacting the authorities during these three months, as once a staff member decided to “retire,” they would sever all contact.

However, there was a noticeable discrepancy between what she considered “retirement” and what the Time-Space Bureau considered “retirement”—she thought it should be a naturally generated minor realm, not a world with established rules penned by someone else. The Time-Space Bureau, on the other hand, explained that “anything without gods, monsters, or supernatural abilities counts as retirement.” As for it being a world from a book—what did it matter? Just change it. Nothing was set in stone. Besides, this world from the book provided a ready-made identity, saving them the hassle of “borrowing a corpse to resurrect the soul” or “forcibly implanting world memories” and other complicated methods.

She should have known those guys were utterly unreliable.

Xie Qingtang turned into a bubble tea shop named “Sappho” on the street corner.

The person leaning against the counter, playing on their phone, looked up at her, smiled, and said, “The usual?”

Xie Qingtang nodded. She found a window seat, glanced briefly at the bustling street traffic, and then withdrew her gaze. “Still the usual,” she sighed. She came to this bubble tea shop at least once a week, and every time it was deserted, with hardly any customers. How did it survive on Gantan Street, where every inch of land was precious?

Soon, Xie Qingtang realized she was overthinking things. She didn’t know if the bubble tea shop lacked money, but she—Xie Qingtang—would soon not even be able to afford bubble tea. The book she was in was a yuri (girls’ love) tragedy. She was involved with both the female protagonist and the second female lead. She was the female protagonist’s stand-in—the female protagonist was the one to be tormented, and, of course, she, the stand-in who eventually turned into a wicked supporting character, wouldn’t have a good ending either.

At this moment, her destiny had not yet intersected with the second female lead, Chang Yishao. Should she let it pass, or follow the plot and continue to play the role?

Xie Qingtang had no answer.

In truth, she had no choice. Although she was in this world, she only had a rough understanding of the background story. It wasn’t work; why should she bother to understand the world’s governing rules in detail? Of course, she hadn’t expected those guys to throw her in here either.

“Sister, got something lined up?” Qi Milu’s voice, accompanied by the life-saving pearl milk tea, appeared before Xie Qingtang.

Xie Qingtang took a big gulp, and after a while, she said, “Go back to my old profession.” This “old profession,” of course, referred to the identity set in the book, not her own original line of work. She was a small-time streamer with over a thousand followers, usually singing and selling goods in her live streams. However, her singing was mediocre, and her fans were only there for her looks. When it came time for them to spend money, they immediately turned into stingy misers. Of course, she wouldn’t spend that money herself, either.

Qi Milu gave Xie Qingtang a thumbs-up and laughed, “Making a living with your looks.” She then feigned a distressed expression, sighed, and said, “I wish I could, but the heavens haven’t blessed me.”

Xie Qingtang looked at her and replied, “Didn’t it bless you with a good boss?” She came here often and had gradually become familiar with Qi Milu. She knew that the boss didn’t manage anything and only occasionally brought friends over.

Xie Qingtang thought this “occasional” occurrence had a probability of one in ten thousand.

After all, who would bring friends to hang out in a tiny bubble tea shop?

Perhaps due to the sultry weather, a few customers successively walked in, and Qi Milu was instantly caught up in a busy state.

Xie Qingtang was a little bored. She chewed on the straw, and her eyes fell once more on the clean, bright glass window, watching the passersby through the thin barrier.

The cup of bubble tea was empty.

Xie Qingtang stretched and moved to avoid the sunlight.

Just then, two people suddenly walked into the shop, and Xie Qingtang’s attention was naturally drawn to them.

“Boss?” Qi Milu’s voice held a note of surprise.

Xie Qingtang followed Qi Milu’s gaze, lingered for a moment on the young woman with short hair, and then turned to the other woman, who wore glasses and had a scholarly look. Perhaps Qi Milu had mentioned her boss and the friend, but Xie Qingtang couldn’t recall. She narrowed her eyes and reached out to brush the slightly curly strands of hair draped over her shoulder.

She had zero resistance to intellectual, bookish women. However, staring at others like this was simply impolite. She retracted her gaze, a trace of regret still lingering on her face.

The short-haired woman was named Lu Li, the owner of this bubble tea shop. Hearing Qi Milu’s voice, she smiled and said, “Xiao Lu, don’t worry about us, just make two teas as usual.” After speaking, she nudged the woman standing beside her with her elbow, frowned, and whispered, “Is that He Yanjin? When did she come back?”

Chang Yishao sensed a strange woman staring at her. The moment she clearly saw the woman’s face, she came back to her senses. It wasn’t He Yanjin. “No,” her tone was somewhat indifferent. Lu Li shrugged. Seeing her reluctant expression, she decided not to delve into the topic, as the name He Yanjin was a sort of “scar” for her.

Xie Qingtang did not hear their whispers. Fearing that her uncontrollable gaze would offend them, she gracefully stood up, preparing to leave. But at the moment she walked out the door, she still couldn’t resist glancing back—and her eyes met Chang Yishao’s.

A beauty, but alas, irrelevant to me. Xie Qingtang sighed inwardly.

This encounter was like a pebble thrown into a lake; aside from the ripple it caused at the time, there was no further movement.

Faced with a more severe struggle for survival, Xie Qingtang naturally had to put the beauty out of her mind—but fate made their paths cross again. This beautiful scene, which others might consider a serendipitous encounter, Xie Qingtang preferred to call “the effect of the plot.”

Drinking had stripped away some of her intellectuality, yet added a certain charm.

Xie Qingtang jumped down from the stage and took a few steps toward Chang Yishao’s direction, but maintained a slight distance from her.

She pulled out a tissue to wipe the sweat from her forehead, her eyes constantly darting towards Chang Yishao.

Perhaps the alcohol had dulled her senses, as Xie Qingtang couldn’t recall who spoke first. In any case, when she came to her senses, she realized she was no longer at the bar where she had a part-time job, but in Chang Yishao’s home. What was placed before her was not a fleeting romantic encounter that made one abandon all pretense, but a contract.

Xie Qingtang entered her “work mode.” Sometimes, when traveling through certain worlds, she inevitably had to play a role.

After signing the name “Xie Qingtang” on the paper, she finally looked up, fixing her gaze on Chang Yishao, and asked, “Because I look seven-tenths like your ex-girlfriend? You miss her?” In this bizarre, maddeningly complex tragic romance, she had still become a participant.

Chang Yishao glanced at Xie Qingtang and gave a faint smile. She slowly put away the contract without saying anything more.

Chang Yishao’s main profession was that of a glorious people’s teacher—but as the second female lead in a book, how could she only have one identity?

The agreement, which was essentially an employment contract—the salary was better than many other jobs.

Under the influence of alcohol, beauty, and the plot, Xie Qingtang decided to accept this unique “job.” Of course, she did not want to have the same tragic ending as the supporting character with the same name in the plot. Once Chang Yishao and her ex-girlfriend got back together in sweet harmony, she would naturally take her abundant wealth and transition into a genuine “retirement life.”

Xie Qingtang rubbed her knuckles. She chuckled softly, turned her head to look at Chang Yishao, and asked again, “Miss Chang, what do I need to do next?” The agreement certainly recorded some things, but much more was left unwritten. Xie Qingtang’s tone was airy and gentle, mixed with a hint of cheerfulness. Chang Yishao’s demeanor involuntarily relaxed, and she replied, “First, you need to move in.” Given Chang Yishao’s background, finding someone’s information in Yu City was naturally easy. Piecing together fragments from Qi Milu’s words, coupled with the streaming platform’s evaluation, she believed she understood Xie Qingtang about three-tenths.

Xie Qingtang said, “Oh,” and then asked, “And then?” Seeing Chang Yishao remain silent, she smiled happily and pressed further, “What was your ex-girlfriend like? Do I need to impersonate her?” Even if that were the case, she was skilled at it.

Chang Yishao’s eyes cooled. She leaned back on the sofa. The frames of her glasses flickered with points of scattered cold light under the bright illumination. Her voice rang out, “You don’t need to do anything, just be cold and malicious enough toward me.”

This answer was surprising.

Xie Qingtang met Chang Yishao’s gaze, her mind currently filled with “question marks.”

She quickly deduced what she believed was a perfect conclusion based on her experience in previous worlds—this was a tragic romance, Chang Yishao liked finding stand-ins, and once she found a stand-in, she didn’t need them to serve her but rather to cause her distress. Chang Yishao might have some psychological disorder.

Xie Qingtang quickly weighed the situation in her mind.

In the eyes of a professional, as long as the money was right, nothing was a problem.

“Alright, Miss Chang.” Xie Qingtang maintained her warmth and politeness, as the terms of the agreement hadn’t officially begun yet. She looked at Chang Yishao for a moment, then suddenly extended her hand, smiling brilliantly, “Miss Chang, please guide me in the future.”

Chang Yishao was taken aback by these words. It took her a moment to reach out—it barely counted as a handshake, the movement as swift as a gust of wind blowing across the eaves. She uttered an “Mhm,” and the room immediately fell into a frightening silence.

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