I Woke Up as the Male Lead of a Tragedy
I woke up transmigrated as the male lead of a short drama, a boy unloved by both his father and mother.
A bowl of spoiled rice porridge sat on the table, with a note tucked beneath it:
“Finish eating, then kneel in the ancestral hall. Don't get in your brother's way on his birthday.”
I picked up the bowl and gave a cold laugh.
In my previous life, I only learned just before I died that I was born to my mother and her first love. My father had known all along but kept quiet, because he also had an illegitimate child of his own.
Everyone in the family had their own schemes. I was the only honest one.
Fine, then. Whoever wants to play the dutiful child can have the job.
I dumped the spoiled porridge onto the ancestral altar and walked away.
Later, they realized that the legitimate son who had always done all the work was gone.
In his place was a madman who could act better than any of them.
