Chapter 1: Bound to the Wrong System, the Beloved Becomes the Malicious Villainess

There was no coffin placed in the vast mourning hall. On the offering table sat only a memorial tablet and an incense burner, aromatic sandalwood smoke curling and thickening in the air. The white wax candles atop the altar were nearly spent; their flames leapt twice, plunging the room into alternating light and shadow. The dim glow cast the lone white banners in a more sinister, chilling light.

Jiang Lingyi rose sluggishly from her prayer mat, furtively glancing at Xie Lin, who knelt upright in the center of the hall.

The good news: she had transmigrated into the novel as the male protagonist Xie Lin’s beloved White Moonlight, and she had bound herself to a system.

The bad news: she had mistakenly bound herself to the villainous side character cultivation system—if she failed her tasks, she would be erased.

Even worse, the system couldn’t be unbound. She was forced to play the villainess, transforming from White Moonlight into the malicious supporting lady. Her new mission was to humiliate, oppress, and torment the male lead, becoming the stepping stone on his path to ascension.

But at least one thing was worth celebrating: Jiang Lingyi, as the White Moonlight, died early in the narrative. As long as she survived until her character’s death scene, she could complete the task and return to the real world.

But this task...

Jiang Lingyi looked at her first mission: Point at the male lead’s father’s memorial tablet, laugh three times arrogantly, and deliver the classic villainess line—

"The old fool is finally dead! Good riddance! This little bastard has lost his only support!"

Jiang Lingyi: ...

"System, his father just died. Isn’t this task a bit too outrageous?"

[...Oh, come on, it’s not his real father, just his adoptive one.]

Jiang Lingyi roared inwardly, "Adoptive or not, a father is still a father!"

If she recalled correctly, in the original story this scene happened after everyone had left; she stayed behind in the mourning hall to comfort Xie Lin—moonlit night, tender words, casting a gentle light in the turbulent, gloomy heart of Xie Lin...

Jiang Lingyi shut her eyes in despair, wishing she could smash her head against the altar.

[Only two hours until the mission ends, host! Hurry up, failure means erasure! You must embrace your villainess identity!]

Cursing inwardly, Jiang Lingyi opened her eyes reluctantly, surveying her surroundings with a lethargic gaze, growing ever more desperate.

Although Xie Lin’s father was merely a loose cultivator, his powers were formidable. He often slew demons and performed heroic deeds, forging bonds with various sects. Today’s mourners were all prominent figures in the cultivation world.

So many powerful people, such a solemn setting, such a tragic and beautiful male lead—and she, Jiang Lingyi, had to point at the memorial tablet, laugh wildly three times, and curse his father as an old fool dead and gone...

Just imagining it made Jiang Lingyi curl her toes in embarrassment.

Moreover, she would be offending the future protagonist, who could slaughter gods and immortals; even her neck felt cold.

The task must be done, but survival was key. Couldn’t she wear the villainess’s mask and still act as the White Moonlight?

Jiang Lingyi, you can do this!

As the mourners rose, lighting incense and comforting Xie Lin, their voices mingling in confusion, Jiang Lingyi carefully edged into an unnoticed corner. Trembling, she stretched out a finger and pointed at the memorial tablet on the offering table. Her voice was barely louder than a mosquito’s, stiff and halting.

"Ha, ha, ha..."

Though quiet, cultivators’ senses surpassed ordinary people; in this mournful, low atmosphere, her laughter sounded particularly jarring. All eyes turned to her, including Xie Lin’s.

Jiang Lingyi: ...

Her resolve to smash her head against the altar intensified.

[...Host, you’re still missing the line.]

---

Jiang Lingyi was on the verge of tears. The atmosphere was awkward and tense, and the countdown in her mind was painfully clear.

Ten seconds left. If she didn’t deliver the next line, the task would fail.

Jiang Lingyi: ?

Wait, why didn’t you tell me it had to be one after another?

She nearly choked on her own breath, but with the deadline looming, she could only force herself to smile weakly at the crowd. Her thoughts bounced frantically between erasure and survival; the words stuck in her throat, neither coming nor going.

Wait—maybe...

There was still a chance!

Five seconds left. Jiang Lingyi quickly took a deep breath, raised her hand to her mouth, and deliberately lowered her voice, reciting the line at lightning speed in a muffled, rapid-fire bass rap—

"The old fool is finally dead good riddance this little bastard has lost his only support."

The crowd: ...

Silence was the bridge of tonight.

From the confused expressions around her, Jiang Lingyi was sure no one had understood her rushed rap!

What a clever trick.

Seizing the opportunity, she immediately collapsed to the ground, wailing loudly, "Uncle Xie! How could you leave us like this! Forcing the young to bury the old, oh, woe is us..."

[Ding—congratulations, host, task complete!]

That was close—Jiang Lingyi breathed a sigh of relief.

But before she could exhale, murmurs of confusion rose from the crowd.

"Old fool?"

"Good riddance?"

"Little bastard?"

In the midst of her immersive mourning, Jiang Lingyi raised her head. "Huh?"

No—impossible, not logical! How could they have understood that muddled rap, as if she were mumbling with a carrot in her mouth?!

Were cultivators’ hearing so sharp they could automatically generate subtitles?

Terrifying.

Frightened and embarrassed, Jiang Lingyi’s face turned pale as she unconsciously clenched her sleeves.

Was there any hope left?

None—it was time to bury herself.

Seeing her silent, the onlookers ignored their incense offerings, casting probing gazes her way.

"This young lady’s attire seems to be from the Rising Sun Sect."

---

"Could there be some grudge with Xie Xuan?"

"But even so, she shouldn’t insult Xie Lin. His father just passed, and ‘little bastard’ is too much..."

Jiang Lingyi could feel the cold, murderous gaze from Xie Lin at the back of the crowd.

The opening had collapsed—catastrophe, utter ruin.

Save me, save me, save me.

In a flash of inspiration, as if her energy meridians were suddenly unblocked, Jiang Lingyi had an idea—

She took a deep breath, waving her hands and rambling desperately, "No, no, it wasn’t ‘little bastard,’ it was ‘what do we do now?’ My accent is just a bit off!"

The crowd: ...

Any time, any place—a homophonic pun is always king!

Sniffing, biting her lip, furrowing her brow, she executed a full suite of pitiful expressions, her eyes teary and voice plaintive, "Honored seniors, what I meant was, how did the old immortal die so miserably? What do we do now? Ah Lin has lost his only support, oh woe is us..."

As she finished, a wave of goosebumps swept over her; Jiang Lingyi was deeply ashamed, but at least she managed to patch things up.

Surviving was so hard.

The crowd pondered her explanation, sensing something odd in every detail, yet it had a certain plausibility.

No one had ever heard of a grudge between Xie Xuan and any girl from the Rising Sun Sect; she had no reason to curse his memorial tablet.

So they merely observed her for a while before turning back to their incense and conversations.

Jiang Lingyi, frightened nearly out of her wits, finally regained her composure.

In the unnoticed corner, committed to playing her role to the very end, she continued her mournful wailing, "Old immortal, now that you’re gone, how is Ah Lin supposed to survive all alone, oh woe is us..."

Her grief surpassed even that of Xie Lin himself.

After the incense was offered and the mourners filed out of the hall, Jiang Lingyi wiped her tears, stood up, and was about to leave when she suddenly met Xie Lin’s expressionless face.

The dim candlelight stretched the shadows of the banners, casting a dark, monstrous silhouette upon the floor. Paired with Xie Lin’s unspeakably cold face...

Jiang Lingyi was unsure whether to be stunned by the male lead’s beauty or terrified by the murderous intent in his eyes.

The written descriptions in the novel paled in comparison to reality—Xie Lin’s skin was unnaturally pale, not the healthy fairness of careful maintenance but a lifeless, deathly pallor, making his lips appear strikingly red. His upturned phoenix eyes gleamed with cold light, and his gaze was like claws hooked into dying prey, sending chills through Jiang Lingyi.

A face both exquisite and bordering on demonic, yet it inspired only dread and inexplicable fear.

He seemed more a villain than a protagonist. Shouldn’t the male lead in a cultivation novel be noble, righteous, and radiant with golden light?

Jiang Lingyi hesitated, unsure whether to follow the original plot and comfort him, nurture a pure friendship—but Xie Lin spoke first, his voice chilling:

"The old fool is finally dead. Good riddance. This little bastard has lost his only support."