Quick Transmigration Conquering the Yandere Supporting Female Character - Chapter 2

Wait a sec, Master, let me check it out for you, Guobaorou said, thrilled that Mu Mian was interested. But as soon as it finished speaking, it froze up, emitting a continuous BEEP— sound.

It’s probably crashed.

Tap, tap, tap. Mu Mian reached out and patted Guobaorou’s floating, translucent shell, trying to reboot it.

Slap! Her palm struck Guobaorou, and the pork dish jolted as if electrocuted, flashing with a zzt!

Zzzzt! Zzzzt! The crackling electrical sound proved effective. Seeing this, Mu Mian prepared to continue, but just as she raised her hand again, Guobaorou interjected

Master, your role this time is Wang Jia’s younger sister, and you’re the true heiress. Wang Jia is the fake heiress, you know.

In the blink of an eye, Guobaorou, having narrowly escaped, retrieved the identity card. Yet Mu Mian remained cautious. Do I have a character persona? If I break character, will I get shocked? Or punished?

Master, we’re completely free to act as we please for now! Guobaorou declared proudly. Just get Su He’s affection for you to 100%!

Then show me Su He’s current affection level for me! Mu Mian demanded eagerly, her eyes sparkling with anticipation.

But Guobaorou replied sheepishly, Master, I can’t check that right now. I’ll only notify you when it reaches 100%.

Mu Mian exploded.

What?! Are you kidding me? Nothing at all? You want me to run around naked? she roared. What good are you then? Can’t you at least give me some cheat codes? Like pain immunity or martial arts manuals?

Master, I don’t have that authority yet, Guobaorou squeaked, overwhelmed by her barrage of questions. It watched helplessly as the sweet and sour pork dish fled back to the Space Station like a rocket.

Mu Mian, beyond her breaking point, unleashed a torrent of profanity. Fvck you, you little sh1t! Come out here and argue with me, you bastard!

No cursing, Master! Guobaorou lectured from the safety of the system station, trying to maintain civility. Mu Mian seethed, wishing she could drag the little pork dish out by its ears.

Bang! She kicked the chair, her voice dripping with fury. Then give me some benefits, or I’m quitting!

Like a pufferfish pulled from the river, bristling with spikes, she puffed up with rage. Transmigrating without any advantages? That’s like going to war without a gun or leaving the house naked!

Mu Mian bombarded Guobaorou with metaphors, desperately trying to make it understand how impossible her situation was. But Guobaorou, newly assigned to the Quick Transmigration Department, only half-grasped her plight, circling in confusion.

Then this humble one shall present Master with a beginner’s gift. Please use it sparingly, Master. Since Mu Mian was its first host, Guobaorou retrieved the only Leg-Stretching, Eye-Popping Pill from its private stash.

Holding up the mud pill, it declared, This Leg-Stretching, Eye-Popping Pill has been refined in the Supreme Lord Lao’s alchemical furnace for forty-nine days. It can resurrect the dead and restore flesh to bones. Don’t underestimate it, Master! This is a rare and precious elixir.

Guobaorou carefully placed the pill in Mu Mian’s hand, acting like a little dog proudly returning a bone to its owner.

Ew Mu Mian’s face twisted in disgust as she stared at the black mud pill, which resembled a malted milk ball. She nearly tossed it away instinctively.

Alright, you hold onto it for now, she said casually, pausing as she tried to hand the pill to Guobaorou. The System, of course, had no hands to receive it.

Thud, thud, thud. Mu Mian dropped the pill onto Guobaorou’s body. Having grasped the general plot outline, she slipped on her slippers and hurried into the bathroom.

With a long exhale, she gazed at her reflection in the mirror—her face unchanged from before she transmigrated. Only then did she slowly relax.

Tap, tap. A knock echoed at the door.

Second Young Miss, are you in there? The elderly nanny’s voice called from outside.

Mu Mian tugged at her slightly tight cotton gauze dress and emerged from the bathroom. Yes, come in.

The door creaked open, and a woman in her fifties entered carrying a tray of food. Mu Mian glanced up and saw a balanced meal with meat and vegetables.

Second Young Miss, please eat something. Your body can’t handle going without food for so long, the nanny said earnestly as she set the tray firmly on the table. Little did she know that the young lady’s soul had already been replaced.

Unlike the original owner’s anorexia, Mu Mian had to exert all her self-control to resist devouring the food immediately.

I won’t eat, she said stubbornly, her expression like a small white flower in the cold wind. Knowing she couldn’t change too quickly after her transmigration, she maintained a defiant facade.

In reality, her legs had already moved to the table, waiting for the nanny to urge her again so she could snatch the tray and start eating.

Very well, Second Young Miss. I’ll leave you to it then. Contrary to Mu Mian’s expectations, the nanny simply obeyed, neatly picking up the tray and leaving. The fragrant, colorful meal began to recede from Mu Mian’s reach.

Just as the rich aroma of the food was about to dissipate, Mu Mian, realizing the nanny wasn’t going to relent, rushed to block the doorway. Stop! If you won’t let me eat, I’ll eat anyway! Put the food down!

Mu Mian paused, her foot poised to step out the door. The nanny turned back and placed the meal back on the table. Then, Second Young Miss, please eat while it’s hot.

Perplexed by Mu Mian’s sudden change of heart, the nanny remained respectfully attentive, while Mu Mian’s gaze remained fixed on the food. I understand. You may leave now.

Yes, ma’am. As soon as the nanny closed the door behind her, Mu Mian, as if possessed by a starving ghost, immediately began to devour the meal.

She ate without restraint, alternating between bites of vegetables, meat, and soup. Despite her speed, she ate neatly, not a single drop of sauce staining her clothes, nor did she make any smacking sounds.

Tap. Mu Mian cracked an egg against the table, peeled off the shell, and swallowed it whole. When the yolk threatened to choke her, she grabbed the nearby glass of milk and gulped it down in one go.

After finishing, she smacked her lips contentedly, her crimson tongue sweeping up the last drop of milk from her lips. Mu Mian marveled inwardly.

This rich people’s milk is a thousand times better than that watered-down Certain Cow back in my old world. Certain Cow was a dairy brand specifically created for people with milk allergies.

Every product from Certain Cow tasted watery, making it suitable for those allergic to regular milk. Combined with its low price, Certain Cow was immensely popular in Mu Mian’s original world.

When writing her stories, Mu Mian often paired instant noodles with expiring Certain Cow milk. She hadn’t had a proper home-cooked meal in ages.

Now, having transmigrated into The Script as the true heiress, she was waited on by a horde of servants daily.

Her days of petty triumph were about to begin.

Guobaorou, come out here, Mu Mian called out after finishing her meal, rubbing her belly as if to aid digestion. Yet her stomach remained perfectly flat, showing no sign of her recent feast.

What is it, Master? I was just falling asleep, Guobaorou whined, its flight erratic and nearly plummeting from being disturbed.

Fortunately, Mu Mian caught it in time. Hey, hurry up and tell me more about the plot. I’m going out to crush some scum.

She cupped Guobaorou in her hands like a clamshell, gently rocking it. But Guobaorou simply nestled into a comfortable position and continued sleeping. The Script contains the entire plot. I don’t know anything beyond that.

Go back to sleep then, Mu Mian said, tossing it back into the Space Station. She had finally accepted the fact that Guobaorou was a completely useless System.

No mission, no script, no character setting, and absolutely no moral compass.

Realizing she couldn’t count on getting any Guobaorou, Mu Mian had no choice but to venture out herself to assess the situation.

Stealthily, like a dog thief, she tiptoed out, even closing the door with utmost care. Her intention was to avoid being noticed, but she hadn’t anticipated that her every move had already been observed by dozens of servants.

Good day, Second Young Miss! The servants bowed in unison, their voices booming so loudly that Mu Mian froze in shock.

Whew… Patting her startled heart, Mu Mian waved her hand at the servants. You can all disperse now. I’ll take a look around myself.

Yes, Second Young Miss. The servants scattered, resuming their duties wiping tables, sweeping floors, arranging flowers. Having been discovered, Mu Mian abandoned her furtive behavior.

She began to survey the villa—ostentatiously luxurious yet cluttered and disorganized, its style a peculiar blend of Eastern and Western influences.

She settled onto the black leather sofa in the living room, next to a gilded flower stand. On the coffee table sat an exquisitely simple blue-and-white porcelain vase. Instead of delicate, light-colored blossoms, it held several vibrant red peonies—a subtle hint of nouveau riche taste, where wealth had outpaced aesthetic refinement.

Xiao Xiao, our Second Son is back. Why haven’t you taken him out for a walk? A wheat-skinned woman teased from the garden.

The Second Son himself happened to overhear this while strolling nearby. Mu Mian immediately crouched down, hiding behind a flower bush to eavesdrop. Knowing the wheat-skinned woman was talking about her, Mu Mian cursed inwardly, Get lost with your ‘walk’! Am I a dog? You b1tch.

Chao Chao! Don’t talk like that. Mian Mian may be back now, but it’s still because Wang Jia isn’t close to us. Seated across from Chao Chao, Xiao Xiao appeared to be over forty, yet time seemed to have treated her with extraordinary kindness.

Perhaps it was the aura of wealth, but she looked much younger than her peers, her eyes retaining a childlike clarity, as if untouched by the harshness of society. Her voice was always soft and gentle, radiating a maternal warmth.

It’s getting hot. Would you like a cup of tea? Yue Guo asked, her snow-white wrist peeking from beneath her chiffon sleeve as she reached across the steaming tea. Her waist-length hair, with strands of golden strands clinging to her wrist, framed her face like a halo in the bright midday sun.

She lifted the teapot with delicate, jade-like fingers, her gaze sharp and scrutinizing as she turned to Chao Chao. Mu Mian, though unsure of their exact ages, guessed they were roughly the same age.

Chao Chao’s healthy, wheat-toned skin and natural contouring gave her features a striking definition, especially her nose, which was so perfectly sculpted it could serve as a cosmetic surgery template. Her bright, piercing eyes and choppy, barely ear-length hair immediately marked her as an impatient and difficult person to deal with.

Xiao Xiao, if you ask me, you should cut ties with Wang Jia immediately. What kind of person is she? She’s been squatting in your company for over twenty years, and now she’s still clinging on, refusing to leave!