Xiao Zhi hunched over her laptop, her spine curled like a shrimp after hours of staring at the screen. Her desk lamp buzzed softly, mixing with the faint rumble of traffic outside. Somewhere down the street, a neighbor's dog barked loudly, as if it too couldn't stand the melodrama spilling from the glowing screen in front of her.
Her apartment smelled faintly of burnt coffee. Three mugs sat by her laptop: one chipped, one stained, and one sticky. Piles of manuscripts stack dangerously from the desk to the floor, ready to collapse at the slightest touch.
Xiao Zhi scowled.
"Princess Lian Zhi, concubine-born, not favored… elegant but easily dismissed…" she muttered, reading aloud in the kind of mocking tone one might use when describing a particularly boring dish on a menu.
Her fingers hovered over the keyboard, twitching with the urge to unleash her editorial wrath right this instant. She could practically feel the words forming: cliché, predictable, uninspired. But she stopped herself. Not yet. She had to finish reading this mess before tearing the poor author apart.
Scrolling down, her eyes narrowed.
"Marries off to a vicious prince… mother dies tragically… abused by the prince… dies anyway…"
She dropped her forehead onto the keyboard with a dramatic groan
"Seriously? Again? Another girl whose only role is to suffer, so the male lead can flex his righteous anger later? Predictable much?"
Her voice grew louder with each word until she was practically giving a TED talk to her empty apartment. She pushed back from the desk and stood, pacing, her socks sliding across the wooden floor.
"I swear, if I have to read one more story where the heroine is born only to be bullied, married off, and then die tragically—!" She threw her hands up in the air as if she'd given up on the world. "Doesn't anyone believe in letting a woman live happily?"
A small meow interrupted her rant.
Xiao Zhi turned to find Mocha, her plump gray cat, sitting on the desk like a little emperor. Mocha tapped at the mouse with his paw, sending the cursor sliding across the tragic manuscript.
"Not helping, Mocha," she muttered, scooping the cat into her arms. She pressed her face into the soft fur, inhaling the scent of cat shampoo and faint dust. "You're cute, but you can't fix bad writing."
Mocha blinked at her with the calm, judgmental look only cats possessed.
Setting the cat back down, Xiao Zhi slumped into her chair again. She resumed scrolling, her editor's eyes twitching with each passing line.
Marriage to the vicious prince. Check.
Mother dies tragically. Check.
Abuse by the prince. Check.
Her own death. Check, check, check.
Xiao Zhi slapped the table. "Unbelievable. It's like the author took the Tragic Female Lead Template, filled in the blanks, and called it a day. Every chapter, a new misery. Is this supposed to be art? No. It's just depressing. And lazy!"
Her editor's instinct kicked in, and the sarcasm flowed freely. "Maybe—just maybe—this so-called heroine could survive if she had two brain cells to rub together. Or, wild idea, ran away like any rational person would. But no. Let's keep her alive just long enough for maximum suffering points. Fantastic. Bravo. Ten out of ten for originality."
Then she moved the mouse to open a new tab, her fingers flying across the keyboard.
To: Lin Rui
Subject: Fix this story
Body:
Dear Mr. Lin,
Do you really expect readers to be interested in a story about a princess dying in predictable and brutal ways? Are you really that masochist? Stop killing her every chapter. Fix it.
Editor
Xiao Zhi
She hovered her mouse over the Send button. For a fleeting second, she hesitated a bit.
What if he hates me forever? What if I'm being too blunt?
Then she shrugged. "Eh. He'll live. Probably."
Click. Sent.
"Finally," she exhaled, collapsing into her chair as though she had just conquered Mount Everest. "Maybe now he'll get the hint and write something worth reading."
Her eyes wandered around the apartment. Manuscripts in chaotic towers. Coffee stains on her desk. A half-eaten cup of instant noodles sat on the desk. I need to burn this place down
Her phone buzzed once, face down on the desk. She didn't even look
The city lights twinkled outside her window, indifferent to her nightly routine: coffee, critique, collapse.
Then the lights flickered.
Xiao Zhi froze.
"Not again," she muttered. Her building, ancient and barely holding itself together, was famous for two things: thin walls that let her hear the couple next door fight every Thursday, and constant blackouts thanks to a fuse box that belonged in a museum.
She groaned and shoved herself up. Mocha meowed nervously, her tail twitching.
"Stay there, Mocha," Xiao Zhi said, wagging a finger. "This is a human disaster. You'd just make it worse."
Crossing the small apartment, she flipped open the dusty metal panel of the fuse box. A tangle of wires greeted her, looking more like spaghetti thrown together instead of a functioning electrical system. The faint smell of burnt insulation made her nose twitched
"Ugh. Perfect."
She reached for the main switch. Then, a spark snapped across her fingers.
"Ah! Damn it!" she yelped, jerking her hand back. The static fizz made her hair stick out in every direction, like a wild halo
"Old wiring," she hissed, shaking out her hand. "Of course it's a death trap. Why wouldn't it be?"
Still, she wasn't one to back down. Taking a deep breath, she reached again. Her fingers brushed cold metal. Then,
ZAP.
A sharp jolt shot up her arm, muscles freezing as if her body had been turned to stone. Pain spread through her nerves, shooting from her fingers to her shoulders, while her vision blurred with flashes of white. Her heart thudded fast in her chest, and though she wanted to pull back, her body wouldn't respond. A mix of tingling and burning clung to her skin, and for a moment, it felt like she was stuck in place, unable to move..
And then—silence.
Blank.
When Xiao Zhi opened her eyes, the world was no longer her apartment