Just last night, she’d stayed up in her rented room reading an old-school, melodramatic romance full of suffering. The heroine was a sweet, naive girl who entered the palace in her sister’s place, and the story was over almost as soon as it began. The heroine was tormented and humiliated in every way by the emperor, the male lead, and finally jumped from the city wall. She cursed as she read and tore through eighty chapters before finally nodding off at three in the morning
When she woke up, she had become a character in the very book, and the story was already over before it had even begun.
What was more, judging by the situation, she was a character who had just slept with the male lead.
