What Happens When an Author Transmigrates?

His name was Nanshan, and my name was Qiu Yue. It wasn't until he died that I became him.

Still terrible at writing blurbs. I fall to my knees.

P.S. Every scene exists only to move the plot along. Nothing expresses any subjective or objective feelings, details aren't meant to be scrutinized, and none of this is based on reality. It's just a way to vent my literary frustration. In short, I made it all up.

It's free, the logic is a mess, and you're not supposed to think too hard. Just have a look and move on. To prevent any misunderstandings, I'll say it one last time: the whole thing is nonsense, pure nonsense, pure nonsense, pure nonsense!

A short first-person story. Please check the content warnings.

Theme: Dare to dream and dare to act