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Synopsis:
Zhi Qiu transmigrated into a yuri ABO novel as a dashing and promiscuous Scum Alpha who had bedded countless Omegas. Her aloof personality and taciturn nature, coupled with her knowledge of the plot, were the only things preventing her from completely derailing the story.
In the novel, the Scum Alpha had captured the female lead’s heart with sweet words, only to cheat on her repeatedly. In the end, she married a wealthy socialite from a prominent family, abandoning her loyal, long-suffering wife.
Zhi Qiu had always eagerly anticipated the day the female lead would finally grow strong enough to deliver a crushing blow to the Scum Alpha’s face. Yet, even on her wedding day, the female lead hadn’t darkened. Instead, upon learning of Zhi Qiu’s impending marriage to another, she jumped into the sea to commit suicide.
After her rebirth, Zhi Qiu thought: What have I done to deserve such love? To hell with the plot! I’ll protect the world’s best female lead at all costs.
The Truth System, arriving late, retorted: You said it yourself.
At the national design competition, the female lead, facing deliberate sabotage from the judges, lowered her head in silent endurance.
Zhi Qiu: I’ve already summoned an international design master overnight! We’ll get her justice!
Truth System: Too slow.
Driven by the Truth System’s intervention, Zhi Qiu, unable to bear seeing his wife bullied, pointed at the domestic designer’s face and unleashed a torrent of abuse, spewing out every pent-up thought: “You provincial bumpkin! What do you even know about art? A nepotism hire like you dares to spout nonsense about fashion? Look at that gaudy red flower on your head—it’s so tacky it’s practically crumbling! Let me tell you, my wife is destined to become the world’s most renowned designer! Who do you think you are to sit here and blather on?”
The crowd, though enjoying the spectacle, couldn’t help but think: Even though we’re just here for the drama, she really loves her!
The designer being berated, despite the vintage Republic-era carvings on his work, dared not utter a word.
Amidst the storm of insults, there were onlookers relishing the drama, a designer too intimidated to speak, a jealous white moonlight, and Ruan Ye, who had gone from tears to laughter.
Years later, a reporter interviewed Ruan Ye, a national treasure-level designer. The gentle-natured woman and her quiet, reserved lover exchanged a deep, affectionate gaze. “I grew up in the depths of despair,” Ruan Ye said. “I owe everything to my wife. She gave me boundless strength and the courage to confront the pain of my past. I love her far more than life itself.”