A Pool of Autumn Water Reflects Cold Mist

After reading too many domineering romance stories, I often find myself thinking, “If only I were...”

I remember finishing Machine Cat’s A Love Hard to Win and letting out a howl at the sky. If I were Guan Mingxi, I’d never let myself faint at the banquet. That Qi guy? Let whoever wants him have him!

I remember reading Jing Shui’s Only Want to Hold Her Close and crying my eyes out. Then I got annoyed all over again. If I were Jie Fu, I’d never marry that damn young master. I’d leave the Guan household with Fourth Aunt no matter what, and never come back!

When I read Ming Xiaoxi’s The Trilogy of Ming Ruoxiaoxi, I kept thinking: if I were Ming Xiaoxi, I’d choose Bing without hesitation and want no one else!

Later I read Back to the Qing Dynasty, Transmigration and Counter-Transmigration, All Songs End with Peach Blossoms, The Fama Chronicles, The Phoenix Rules the World... I’ve lost count of how many books I’ve read, or how much I complained and daydreamed along the way...

Now I’m following The Humiliating Affairs of Wumen every week, and my regular daydreaming has started up again: Hmph! If I were Qing Qiao, I wouldn’t care for Brother Dangdang or Duan Yu. If I didn’t want them from the start, I’d keep it that way!

At last, I felt the urge to write something myself. Better to ruin my own hard work than someone else’s. (The authors Jinzi Da, Yao Da, and Yue Da say tearfully, “We couldn’t be happier!”)

And so this story, “The Naive Idealist,” was born.

Blurb:

I got drunk and transmigrated.

I became a mother?!

My heart was broken, then mended.

Then broken again!

I came to my senses and let go.

I set off alone into the world!

I fell in love, then ran away.

Where is home?

We held hands and made our promise.

Together, we’ll watch the sunset!