Xiaomi returned home from school, dropped her bag, and plopped onto her bed with her favorite comic novel, The Entangled Fates. She had always loved this story, not because it was a masterpiece, but because one of the characters—a rich, spoiled villain named Xiaomi—shared her name.

Though the character was a brat who met a tragic end, Xiaomi couldn’t help but laugh at her dramatic antics. But as she reached the climax of the story, her laughter turned into frustration. The male lead, Lu Zihan, killed the fictional Xiaomi after blaming her for harming Mingyue, the female lead.

“That’s so unfair!” Xiaomi grumbled. “She wasn’t even the one who pushed Mingyue! This plot is garbage!”

Still fuming, she eventually fell asleep with the book by her side.

When she woke up, Xiaomi was no longer in her small, messy room. Instead, she was lying on a soft, canopied bed surrounded by pink walls, lace curtains, and plush toys. It looked like a scene straight out of a princess dream.

“What is this place?” she mumbled, rubbing her eyes.

Before she could process what was happening, the door creaked open, and a maid in a neat uniform walked in. She bowed respectfully.

“Miss Xiaomi, the young master has instructed that you must apologize to Miss Mingyue. Only then will you be allowed to eat breakfast.”

Xiaomi stared at the maid, her mouth agape. “What did you just say?”

“Miss Mingyue is still upset after the incident on the stairs,” the maid explained nervously. “The young master insists you make amends.”

The words sent a chill down Xiaomi’s spine. “The stairs… Mingyue… Apologize?” she repeated in disbelief.

Her eyes darted to the ornate mirror across the room, and she gasped at her reflection. It wasn’t her usual self staring back—it was the Xiaomi from The Entangled Fates!

“I… I transmigrated into the novel?” she whispered, her heart racing.

The scene the maid referred to was all too familiar. In the novel, Xiaomi was accused of pushing Mingyue down the stairs, which escalated the hatred of her brothers and set the stage for her downfall.

“But I didn’t push her! I remember clearly—it was all a misunderstanding!” Xiaomi exclaimed, clutching her head.

The realization dawned on her like a bolt of lightning. She wasn’t just in the novel—she was living the exact moment that led to the fictional Xiaomi’s tragic downfall.

Her stomach churned. If she didn’t fix things, her fate would be sealed. “I can’t let this happen,” she muttered under her breath.

Summoning her courage, Xiaomi stood up. “Fine. I’ll apologize. But I’m not going down the same path as the original Xiaomi.”

Determined to rewrite her story, she headed out of the room, ready to face her new reality.

Xiaomi stood in front of the mirror in her overly pink room, staring at her reflection. Her face was caked with makeup—a style that screamed tacky and overdone. It wasn’t her fault, really. The original Xiaomi had listened too much to her so-called friends, who only wanted to mock her behind her back.

“Enough of this nonsense,” she muttered, grabbing a cloth and wiping her face clean. As she removed the layers of foundation, mascara, and lipstick, her natural beauty shone through. She couldn’t believe how lovely her face looked without all the theatrics. “From now on, I’m going to be myself.”

Feeling slightly more confident, she took a deep breath and headed downstairs.

In the grand living room, her eldest brother, Yichen, and her third brother, Haoran, sat on the sofa discussing something serious. As soon as Xiaomi walked in, their conversation stopped. Both brothers turned to look at her, and their expressions changed.

Yichen raised an eyebrow. “What’s with the sudden change?”

Haoran, on the other hand, narrowed his eyes suspiciously. “Why do you look so… simple today?”

Before Xiaomi could answer, Haoran slammed his hand on the table and stood up, his face contorted with anger. “Don’t think I’ve forgotten what you did, Xiaomi! Mingyue is in the hospital because of you!”

“What?” Xiaomi gasped. She knew the plot of the novel, but hearing it said out loud still startled her. “I didn’t—”

“Enough!” Haoran’s voice thundered as he marched toward her. Without warning, he raised his hand and slapped her across the face. The impact sent Xiaomi sprawling to the floor, her cheek stinging from the force of the blow.

“Haoran, stop!” Yichen shouted, rushing to pull his younger brother away.

Xiaomi barely registered what was happening. Her head throbbed, and the sharp edge of a flower pot she fell against made contact with her temple, leaving her bleeding.

Yichen knelt beside her, his usually calm expression replaced with worry. “Xiaomi, can you hear me?”

She tried to respond, but her vision blurred, and she felt herself slipping into unconsciousness.

Haoran stood nearby, his arms crossed and his face twisted in anger. “If you don’t apologize to Mingyue, I’ll cut off your cards and make sure you live alone, away from the family. Don’t think you can keep living off our parents’ indulgence!”

“Haoran, enough!” Yichen barked. “You’ve already done enough damage!”

Turning to the maids, Yichen ordered, “Get the first aid kit and call a doctor immediately!”

The maids rushed to follow his instructions, while Yichen carefully lifted Xiaomi onto the sofa. As he dabbed at the wound on her head, his mind raced. Something about Xiaomi seemed different lately. She hadn’t retaliated, hadn’t screamed, hadn’t caused a scene.

Yichen sighed, his tone softer now. “Rest, Xiaomi. We’ll deal with everything later.”

Haoran scoffed but said nothing more, storming out of the room.

As Xiaomi lay motionless, her mind swirled with thoughts.

As Xiaomi lay on the plush sofa, her head pounding and cheek stinging, her thoughts turned cunning. She realized that in this cruel and chaotic dog-blood novel, survival wasn’t just about avoiding trouble—it was about playing the game.

She closed her eyes, letting out a weak sigh. Of course, I have to rest. My head hurts so much… she thought to herself. I might as well be weak and innocent. If they want a white lotus, I’ll give them one.

Opening her eyes slowly, she made her expression soft and pained, like a delicate flower swaying in a storm. She shifted slightly, catching her eldest brother Yichen’s worried gaze.

“elder brother… my head hurts so much…” she whispered weakly, her voice trembling.

Yichen’s frown deepened as he gently dabbed at the cut on her head. “Don’t move. The doctor is on the way,” he said, his tone unusually kind.

Xiaomi let out a small, pitiful cough. “I didn’t push Mingyue… I swear I didn’t. I was just passing by. She slipped, and now everyone hates me.”

Yichen paused, his hand stilling. Her words didn’t seem like the usual excuses she used to make. They sounded genuine, even heart-wrenching.

“I believe you,” he said after a moment, his voice low.

Xiaomi’s heart skipped a beat. Was she actually getting through to him?

Just then, Haoran re-entered the room, his face still cold and unforgiving. “Believing her? Are you kidding, brother ? She’s always been a troublemaker! You’re too soft on her!”

Xiaomi took a deep breath, blinking rapidly as if tears were threatening to spill. She turned her gaze to Haoran, her voice barely above a whisper. “Third Brother… I’m sorry for being a disappointment. But I really didn’t push Mingyue. You can punish me if it makes you feel better…”

Her fragile words, combined with her pale, injured face, struck a nerve in Yichen. He glared at Haoran. “She’s bleeding, and you’re still yelling? Enough!”

Haoran looked at Xiaomi, a flicker of doubt crossing his face before he scoffed and turned away. “I’ll believe her when Mingyue wakes up and confirms it.”

As Haoran stormed off, Xiaomi sighed inwardly. One step at a time, Xiaomi. Play the role of the poor, misunderstood girl.

Yichen stayed by her side until the doctor arrived, and Xiaomi made sure to maintain her innocent, pitiful demeanor. Inside, she was plotting her next move. The doctor arrived promptly, a middle-aged man with a calm demeanor. He examined Xiaomi carefully, cleaning the cut on her temple and checking her vitals. After ensuring that the injury wasn’t severe, he applied a bandage and prescribed rest.

“She needs to avoid stress for a while,” the doctor advised Yichen. “And make sure she eats properly. She seems quite weak.”

Yichen nodded, his brows furrowed in concern. “Thank you, Doctor. I’ll make sure she’s taken care of.”

Xiaomi, half-conscious during the treatment, let out a soft sigh as the doctor finished. Yichen carried her back to her room, laying her gently on the bed.

“She doesn’t look like the troublemaker we all know,” the doctor murmured before leaving, glancing at Yichen meaningfully.

Once the door to her room was closed, Xiaomi let herself drift into a light sleep. But even in rest, her mind raced.

Good. The doctor’s diagnosis will keep them from bothering me for a while, she thought. I need time to figure out how to navigate this mess.

She woke later that evening to the soft glow of her bedside lamp. A tray of food was placed on the side table—light soup, bread, and a small cup of tea. Her maid stood nearby, watching her with a mix of worry and pity.

“Miss Xiaomi, Young Master Yichen said you need to eat. Shall I help you?”

Xiaomi blinked sleepily, then nodded, keeping her movements slow and delicate. “Thank you… I’m feeling a little dizzy still.”

Xiaomi sat on the bed, the tray of food untouched beside her. Her maid stood nearby, wringing her hands nervously, glancing between the food and Xiaomi’s pale, fragile face.

“Miss Xiaomi,” the maid said softly, her voice tinged with sympathy, “you haven’t eaten anything all day. Please, just take a few bites.”

Xiaomi shook her head slowly, her voice trembling as she replied, “How can I eat… when Third Brother said I’m not allowed to unless I apologize to Mingyue?” She lowered her gaze, her eyelashes trembling like dew-covered petals. “I didn’t push her… I swear I didn’t… but no one believes me.”

The maid’s heart ached as she looked at Xiaomi’s pitiful state. This wasn’t the spoiled, bratty girl she’d served before. This was someone who seemed genuinely hurt and fragile.

“Miss Xiaomi, I believe you,” the maid said, her voice breaking slightly. “Please, just eat something. You need your strength.”

Unbeknownst to them, Yichen had been standing at the door, observing the scene. His sharp eyes softened as he took in Xiaomi’s words and her frail demeanor. This wasn’t the sister he remembered—loud, demanding, and manipulative.

Her quiet despair struck a chord in him. She didn’t even seem angry or defensive about Haoran’s cruel ultimatum. Instead, she appeared resigned, as though she truly believed she was powerless to defend herself.

“Xiaomi,” Yichen’s voice broke the silence as he stepped into the room.

Xiaomi’s head snapped up, her eyes widening slightly. “E-Elder Brother…”

Yichen approached her, his tall frame towering over the bed. For a moment, he simply looked at her, his gaze scanning her pale face, bandaged temple, and trembling hands.

“You haven’t eaten,” he said, his tone gentler than she’d ever heard before.

“I… I can’t,” Xiaomi whispered, her voice barely audible. “Third Brother said—”

“Forget what Haoran said,” Yichen interrupted firmly. “You’re injured and weak. You need to eat.”

Tears welled in Xiaomi’s eyes as she looked down at her hands. “I just want you all to believe me… that I didn’t hurt Mingyue. I didn’t push her… I wouldn’t…”

Yichen’s chest tightened at her words. He had always been the most logical and composed of the siblings, but seeing Xiaomi like this—so broken and vulnerable—made something stir inside him.

He gently picked up the bowl of soup from the tray and held it out to her. “Here. Eat. I’ll talk to Haoran.”

Xiaomi looked up at him with wide, watery eyes, her expression filled with surprise and gratitude. Slowly, she reached out and took the bowl.

“Thank you, Elder Brother…” she murmured, her voice soft and sincere.

Yichen stood by her side as she ate, his mind racing. For the first time, he wondered if they had all been too harsh on Xiaomi. Could she really be changing?

As Xiaomi took slow sips of the soup, she hid a small, triumphant smile. Elder Brother’s starting to trust me. One down… two to go.