[Slow Burn] [No Romance]
She dreamed of all the different ways she might die.
Lin Qing had gotten the script backward. She wasn't reborn, she hadn't been betrayed, and of course she wouldn't give anyone the chance to betray her.
Every bit of information she received came from her dreams.
But what kind of person has to suffer bizarre nightmares to get something good out of it? How many times has this happened now? How many different ways has she dreamed of dying?
The first time: her corpse was lying in the living room.
The second time: she was being served as food.
The third time: she seemed to have drowned.
What on earth was going on?!
Yet as the dreams continued, she gained a few abilities that seemed incredibly powerful.
Lin Qing looked over the post-apocalyptic script in her hands and found it packed with notes, none of them written by her.
Lin Qing: Huh?
Could a script really pass through so many hands? How many people had gotten it before her?
She opened the title page. Three words were completely obscured by mosaic blurring.
Was she really the protagonist?
Could she really survive to the end?
What was a protagonist supposed to do?
Was the protagonist supposed to bring the apocalypse to an end?
As Lin Qing survived one disaster after another, the name blurred out on the script's title page gradually came into focus.
Lin Qing had a feeling that when she learned the truth,
the story would reach its ending.
