I'll Raise Pigs to Support You - Chapter 1

The sunlight outside the door shimmered faintly as Song Yugui opened her eyes, her head splitting with pain. For some reason, she smelled the fresh, earthy fragrance of soil. Clutching her head, she groaned and sat up, cursing inwardly—Next time, I’m never staying up late to read novels again. Not only can’t I wake up properly, but even when I do, I feel exhausted and ache all over.

As she thought this, she instinctively swung her legs off the bed to get dressed for work. But the moment her feet touched the ground, she froze.

Huh?

Why was it so uneven? And why were her shoes so prickly?

She lowered the hand clutching her head, her mind snapping halfway to alertness. When she looked down, she nearly fainted from shock.

What the—?

Song Yugui stood dumbfounded. Where’s my smooth tile floor? My fancy, high-end bunny slippers?

Why had they turned into dirt ground and straw sandals?

And not just any straw sandals—these were tattered, barely held together by a few strands of grass.

Dizziness washed over Song Yugui. She couldn’t believe what she was seeing. Trembling, she thought, Am I dreaming? Maybe if I go back to sleep… Yeah, just sleep a little longer…

Shivering, she retreated back onto the bed, convinced this nightmare was too horrifying to endure. Just as she was about to lie stiffly back down, the curtain was lifted, and a strange, delicate-looking woman appeared before her.

Song Yugui’s words—Who are you?—died in her throat as she met the woman’s timid gaze.

The woman had a strikingly alluring face, but her demeanor was skittish and fearful. Her exposed fair skin was covered in bruises, a terrifying sight.

“Y-You’re awake…”

The moment the woman saw her, she seemed even more uneasy, instinctively taking half a step back—a clear sign of resistance.

Finally sensing something was off, Song Yugui’s mind raced through one absurd possibility after another.

The most plausible one?

Had she… transmigrated?

……

“I want to go back to sleep.”

A flat, emotionless voice rang out in the room.

Song Yugui had lost all conviction, her eyes vacant. Part of her wanted to know who this bruised woman was, but another part was terrified of uncovering the truth. She had a sinking feeling that today would overturn everything she’d known in her over twenty years of life.

Forget it. Let me escape for a bit. Maybe if I sleep again, everything will go back to normal when I wake up.

Maybe this woman only exists in my dream.

With that thought, Song Yugui resolutely lay down, shut her eyes, stretched out her legs, and fell asleep.

Shen Xizhi only dared to reveal a sliver of emotion once her eyes were closed. The room instantly grew colder, but no one spoke. Only the faint sound of retreating footsteps grew farther and farther away.

When she woke again, the sky was dim. The first thing Song Yugui saw upon opening her eyes was a decaying roof beam, dilapidated beyond belief—as if she’d stumbled into some impoverished hovel.

Looking down at the unfamiliar clothes on her body, Song Yugui squeezed her eyes shut, then opened them again. Unable to resist, she pinched herself hard—

“Ow!”

The pain made her yelp.

Now she had no choice but to accept the truth: she really had transmigrated.

And into a poor household, no less.

Her spacious apartment, her phone, computer, air conditioning, fridge—all gone.

Despair washed over Song Yugui. Her body slumped backward lifelessly onto the bed.

The door creaked open, letting in a slant of sunset light. A slender woman stepped inside, backlit by the glow, her expression timid and cautious.

“W-Wife… dinner’s ready. I… I made vegetable porridge.”

Huh?

What?

She jerked her head up, forgetting to hide her shock. Instinctively, she blurted, “What did you call me?”

Shen Xizhi flinched, taking half a step back in fright. Her right hand nervously dug into the back of her left, her round eyes shimmering with unshed tears. The fear that instinctively rose in her heart nearly choked her.

She thought she’d used the wrong term again, her voice trembling faintly with timidity.

“W-Wife… you told me to call you that…”

There was even a hint of barely concealed grievance in her tone.

Wife.

That term sounded so familiar.

Song Yugui froze. She’d only ever heard that term in one place—a novel she’d read last night. But… was that even possible?

Transmigrating into a novel—wasn’t that just something people wrote about for fun?

So staying up late to read really could make you transmigrate?

Song Yugui’s expression grew increasingly horrified. But she still couldn’t believe it. Her heart pounded as she whipped her head around, scanning the room. Everywhere she looked was worse than the last—so shabby it scared her into averting her gaze.

Her panicked eyes eventually landed back on the woman. Tentatively, she asked, “W-What’s your name?”

Shen Xizhi’s beautiful eyes were hollow, filled with lifeless despair.

She must be looking for an excuse to hit me again. No matter what I say, it’ll be wrong.

When the woman didn’t answer, Song Yugui instinctively straightened her posture, trying to appear more confident. She fought the urge to let her eyes dart around, afraid of giving herself away.

After a long silence, she finally heard the other’s voice. The woman who had seemed so pitiful and timid just moments ago now carried an air of desolation—like a soul already extinguished.

“Shen Xizhi. Has Wife forgotten even this?”

She thought this probably wasn’t the answer Song Yugui wanted. Who does she want me to pretend to be today?

With no hints, she couldn’t even begin to guess. Lost and helpless, she assumed this was just Song Yugui’s prelude to abuse—asking her name, then laughing and saying she was wrong, beating her, and finally telling her who she was supposed to be imitating this time.

The young woman was terrified but powerless to resist. Just the thought of past beatings made her face instantly pale. Her slender frame trembled faintly where she stood.

But she didn’t realize that the person across from her had widened her eyes in shock upon hearing her name—her face now paler than a corpse’s after three days.

Wh-What? Shen Xizhi?!

Of course she remembered that name. It was the trashy novel she’d read before bed!

If not for her lingering rationality, Song Yugui would’ve started pinching her philtrum to calm down.

So the stories about transmigrating into a novel because of sharing a name with a character were real!

She never should’ve stayed up late reading just because a cannon fodder shared her name. If she hadn’t read so much, if she hadn’t picked this book, maybe she wouldn’t have transmigrated—no, transmigrated into a novel.

Song Yugui’s eyes glazed over. What a disastrous start. Other people transmigrate as princesses, noblewomen, or heiresses—and I end up as the poorest, most lecherous rogue in the village.

Damn you, heavens—what kind of gods are you?!

And that wasn’t all. She also had a wife who’d been chronically abused and was this close to murdering her.

Shen Xizhi.

If Song Yugui’s name in the novel was inconspicuous, barely worth a mention, Shen Xizhi was the complete opposite. With her stunning beauty and gentle, graceful demeanor, she was the story’s biggest villain—the sole obstacle to the main couple’s happy ending.

Born into the mud, she killed her wife—who took pleasure in torturing women—to protect herself. As a widow living alone in Song Village, she repeatedly schemed to “coincidentally” meet the male lead, ensnaring his favor. If not for her widow status and her ruthlessly cunning methods, Song Yugui suspected the male lead might’ve actually chosen her in the end.

Her hand clenched around something in her grip, as if to vent the storm raging inside her. But it prickled sharply against her palm. Looking down—oh great, it was straw. Her soft, plush blanket was gone too, replaced by straw.

The heavens want me dead.

Song Yugui stared at the ceiling, her face blank for a long moment. Life was just too cruel. All those years of hard work, the house she’d just bought—

Shen Xizhi braced for punishment, but it never came. Finally daring to glance up, she saw Song Yugui’s expression—as if the sky had fallen—and frowned slightly.

What does this mean?

Song Yugui’s gaze slowly dropped, meeting hers. Like a frightened rabbit, Shen Xizhi immediately lowered her eyes and quickly hopped another step back, putting as much distance between them as possible. Clearly, she’d already suffered plenty of inhuman treatment at “her” hands.