The moment I open my eyes, I find I’ve become the supporting female character in a period novel, the one who jumps into a river to chase after the male lead.
According to the plot, I’ll go mad with love and die miserably on the street.
Instead, I marry the male lead’s older brother, a rugged veteran.
In the original story, he never marries, yet rises to fame and success.
On our wedding night, he grips my chin and warns me, “Don’t play with fire.”
I smile and undo his shirt. “Funny, I love getting burned.”
