Survival Story of a Sword King in a Fantasy World - Chapter 12

Nine harmonic zither chords shook the universe, who dared to not acknowledge the lord?

In a romance novel called “The Secret Lovers of the Academy” the male lead would often torment his fiancée–but wait, why did she cross into this world to become his fiancée, the villainess, instead of the heroine?

Yu Yi found herself transmigrated into a female protagonist in a xianxia novel, destined to suffer both physically and emotionally.The entire novel was 800,000 words long. For 700,000 words, she endured extreme torment. In the remaining 100,000 words, the heroine reconciled with her past, found true love without regrets, and achieved a happy ending with the male lead.Yu Yi absolutely refused to be this pitiful scapegoat.To avoid the main plot, she adhered to the basic principle of “where he is, I am not; where I am, he is not.” She laid low in her sect, dodging every opportunity to encounter the male lead.Five years passed, and she finally severed this ill-fated connection.The male lead married someone else. Yu Yi let out three wild laughs as she stepped out of the sect gates, happily rushing towards the colorful world outside.However, she didn’t expect that in her excessive joy, she would accidentally stumble upon the mu*der scene of the main villain.Yu Yi hid in the bushes, watching Xue Chenjing, dressed in white robes now stained with blood, slowly crushing someone’s skull. She was so terrified she didn’t dare to breathe.In the dead silence, a noisy voice suddenly rang out: [Master, look quick! It’s your wife! Your wife has finally come online. Isn’t she adorable, curled up and hiding in the bushes like that?]Yu Yi was shocked: Surely it can’t be referring to me?[She’s even wearing a red dress, matching couple outfits with you.]Yu Yi clutched her pomegranate-red skirt tightly, glancing at the hem of Xue Chenjing’s robe. What couple outfit? Isn’t that just stained red with blood?Xue Chenjing flicked the blood from his fingertips, his gaze sweeping towards the bushes. He asked in bewilderment, “Whose wife?”The system pulled out a masterpiece of literature, tapping the cover and asserting confidently: [Your wife.]

She, the prime minister’s daughter, was timid and cowardly. Because her engagement fell through, and her reputation was ruined, she was pressured to spill her own blood in the palace hall! Once again opening her eyes, the cowardice had vanished, replaced by coldness, causing others to be intimidated at first glance. Yet no one realized, she was not her.