If you found a sickly, pitiful little guy, clutching your clothes with trembling fingers and looking at you timidly, what would you do?
One: Nurse him back to health.
Two: Teach him to read.
Three: Use him as a prop to play on people’s sympathy.
Liu Zhi chose number three.
Don’t ask why. She transmigrated into a book. She knows the poor little guy is called Xie Wei, and that he’s sick and won’t live much longer.
And the book has pointed her toward an easier path to riches: Chen Huan, a wealthy man in town, kindhearted and easy to fool. Marry him, and she’ll have more money than she can spend. So Liu picks up the dying little guy, feeds him half a steamed bun, teaches him to call her “big sister,” then runs to Chen Huan and sobs, “My parents died young. My little brother and I only have each other, and he’s so sick he’s about to die. I need money urgently to save him.”
Xie Wei: ?
Chen Huan: “How pitiful. I’ll marry you.”
Liu Zhi gets her wish and lives a lazy, pampered life. Chen Huan treats her wonderfully, and she happily prepares for their wedding, casually dumping the pitiful little guy she picked up at a clinic and never looking back.
On her wedding night, dressed in a bright red bridal gown, Liu Zhi sits on the edge of the bed, waiting for her husband to lift her veil.
Footsteps draw near. The veil is gently raised
But the face before her isn’t Chen Huan’s gentle one.
It’s a young general in silver armor, a sword at his waist.
Xie Wei bends down, pinches Liu Zhi’s chin, and smiles in a way that sends a chill through her:
“Big sister, don’t wait.”
“Your groom just ‘died suddenly.’”
Liu Zhi’s mind goes blank, but he continues:
“Now, open your eyes and take a good look, ”
In the flickering candlelight, his once-boyish features slowly overlap with the memory of those watery eyes.
“I’m the one marrying you tonight.”
*Goofy antics and cheesy lines ahead.
Theme: Love yourself before loving someone else
