When I opened my eyes, I was dressed as the female supporting character in a period novel who jumped into a river and chased the male protagonist.
According to the plot, I will be crazy about love and eventually die miserably on the street.
I backhandedly married the male lead's rough-and-tumble veteran brother.
In the original work, he never married, but became famous.
On our wedding night, he held my chin and warned: "Don't play with fire."
I smiled and unbuttoned his clothes: "What a coincidence, I like to get myself fired up."
