Xiaomai used to be an obscure online writer, barely known beyond the eighteenth tier.
During her university years, driven by her passion for novels and plenty of free time, she decided to try her hand at writing.
She chose her favorite literary haven—Green River Literature City—as the platform to publish her work.
To her surprise, after just a few days, she started receiving comments from readers. From that moment on, Xiaomai was hooked, pouring all her university hours into writing.
But after graduation, Xiaomai found herself with no time for creation.
The challenges were overwhelming—internships, job hunting, finding a place to live, dealing with landlords, and even the relentless pressure from her parents to get married.
As a result, Xiaomai had long lost the energy and motivation to write. After work every day, all she wanted was to collapse on the sofa and scroll through her phone to pass the time.
And so, the days slipped by one after another.
Sometimes, she felt her life was unbearably stagnant, like a sprouted potato lying on the sofa for years on end, its roots digging into the cushions, vines spreading wildly—perhaps one day, she would become one with the sofa itself.
Then, on what seemed like an ordinary, uneventful day, everything changed.
Following her usual routine, she headed out to work, only to notice that the shop signs downstairs had undergone a drastic transformation overnight.
Could it be the city management finally cracking down on the city’s appearance?
Xiaomai didn’t have time to ponder. She quickly bought breakfast and hurried to the bus stop.
Today, luck was on her side—the bus had empty seats, and even better, a window seat. She cracked the window open just a bit and carefully nibbled on her bread.
But as the cityscape outside shifted rapidly, Xiaomai began to notice something was off. Why had all the shops changed? And why did every sign display an address that read “K City, XX Street”?
What kind of bizarre fusion of Eastern and Western names was this?
It felt like some kind of joke.
Her mind filled with doubts, Xiaomai listened as the bus announced a familiar stop. She pushed through the crowd and got off, only to freeze in disbelief.
Before her stood a towering skyscraper, reaching into the clouds, its design sleek and modern. At the very top hung a sign that read “Universal Tower.”
The name sounded oddly familiar, but where was the office building she usually worked in?
Her company was located in a very ordinary mixed-use office building, occupying only a few small rooms.
Nothing about this made sense.
Xiaomai stood there stunned for a long moment before remembering to check the bus stop sign. But even that was correct.
Her daily commute had always been the same; she could leave the house with her eyes closed and never get it wrong.
Frantically, she pulled out her phone to see if any of her coworkers had encountered the same strange situation.
But when she opened the chat groups, they were completely empty. A cold sweat trickled down her forehead.
Could she be dreaming?
Though she didn’t love her job, waking up to find herself unemployed like this was just too eerie.
Xiaomai stared blankly at her phone. At this hour, the work group chats, project groups, and team chats should have been buzzing with activity—but now, the silence was chilling.
She didn’t even know what to do next—should she call the police? Or just go home?
Just then, Xiaomai suddenly heard the sharp honk of a car horn.
“Beep beep…”
She turned around and realized she had already stepped onto the driveway. Not far ahead, a black sedan was speeding toward her.
At first, Xiaomai wanted to dodge out of the way, but then she thought, if she got hit, maybe this nightmare would finally end.
So her movements slowed. But watching a steel beast charging straight at her was a terrifying test of her mental fortitude.
Instinctively, Xiaomai held her breath, her heartbeat pounding wildly in her chest.
The car was just about to hit her. The screech of tires against the pavement pierced the air. The car came to a screeching halt mere inches from her.
The driver, clearly shaken, didn’t bother to check if she was a girl; he rolled down the window and snapped angrily, “How do you even walk? Walking…”
He wanted to say more, but someone inside the car stopped him, and he fell silent.
Xiaomai’s mind echoed two words—“I’m doomed.”
She still hadn’t woken up. Wasn’t this supposed to be a dream?
The sudden upheaval left her unable to think. She kept apologizing mechanically, like a robot, not noticing the rear window slowly rolling down.
A gentle, melodious female voice came from inside the car: “Miss, are you okay? You look really pale.”
“I… I’m fine.”
“Are you sure? Do you want some water, or should I call 911 for you?”
After repeated offers, Xiaomai, still dazed, got into the car.
Only when she saw the interior—so different from an ordinary vehicle—did she realize she’d run into someone wealthy.
The car’s owner was a stylishly dressed young woman with a gentle demeanor. She kindly handed Xiaomai a bottle of water.
“Sit down and rest for a bit. You really don’t look well.”
Xiaomai didn’t get a chance to look in a mirror, but she knew her complexion couldn’t be good right now.
She thanked her repeatedly and felt a little better after drinking the water.
“It’s okay. What should I call you?”
“Just call me Xiaomai.”
The woman smiled warmly, her voice like a soothing spring that refreshed the soul: “My name is Cen Huan.”
“Huh?” Xiaomai looked up in disbelief. That name… why did it sound so familiar?
And the Universal Tower she’d just seen—Xiaomai grasped a few key points from her chaotic thoughts.
Cen Huan, Universal… Could it be that she had somehow slipped into the world of a novel she once wrote?
Back in college, she had written a book featuring Cen Huan as the protagonist—a contract-marriage romance with a CEO.
Because at that time, those tropes were all the rage, and Xiaomai had inevitably jumped on the bandwagon.
The story was simple: the female lead, Cen Huan, was a beautiful and kind-hearted girl burdened with heavy debts, yet she lived life with resilience. By a twist of fate, she became contractually married to the male lead, Ling Yu.
She needed to play the role of the male lead’s wife for five years. Cen Huan agreed to this arrangement to pay off her debts. Over those five years, the two of them went through a series of experiences, eventually turning their pretend relationship into something real.
Honestly, the story’s plot was nothing new—an overused trope. But even though it was a classic cliché, it remained very captivating, which is why it received a decent response back then.
However, as time went on, Xiaomai matured. Stories about a Cinderella in a wealthy family background no longer moved her.
But who would have thought—the author could travel through time too!
Xiaomai’s mind suddenly sparked with ideas. If she really had traveled into the story, what would her life be like from now on?
It seemed she’d lost her job, and maybe her savings too. Apart from Cen Huan, it seemed she had no better safety net.
If this really was the world of her novel *Drunken Weddings*, then as the author, maybe it wouldn’t hurt to cozy up to the protagonist a bit, right?
She quickly reviewed the plot, trying to recall as many details about Cen Huan as she could. Something suddenly clicked in her mind.
So she asked, “Did you also go to XX Middle School?”
Cen Huan’s eyes lit up instantly, and she asked excitedly, “Yes! I graduated from that school. Did you go there too?”
“Yes. No wonder your name sounded so familiar. We had a teacher who often mentioned you—said you were a very obedient and hardworking senior.”
“Teacher Yao?”
“Yes. She was our homeroom teacher.”
“What a coincidence! She was my homeroom teacher too.”
Could it really be a coincidence? Xiaomai thought to herself. When creating characters, authors tend to borrow from familiar experiences.
For example, the setting of this world was similar to her own life, but to avoid making readers feel too immersed, she used a fictional city name like K City.
And some parts of Cen Huan’s experiences were more or less drawn from her own life or those of her friends.
Only Cen Huan was lucky—her life had only a decade or so of hardships, and a bright future ahead.
Unlike her, whose life had been full of ups and downs.
When she graduated, she thought the future was limitless and bright. But after entering the workforce, she realized the happiest times were those years when she was still studying and writing novels.
Anyway, Xiaomai had successfully established a connection with Cen Huan.
Upon learning that Xiaomai was her direct junior at school, Cen Huan’s attitude grew even warmer.
Because the contract she had signed with Ling Yu explicitly forbade her from contacting friends or family, Cen Huan’s social circle had rapidly shrunk. Although her identity as Mrs. Ling would introduce her to new social circles, Cen Huan was still trying to adjust.
She also occasionally missed her old life, even though it hadn’t been wealthy.
After chatting for a while, Cen Huan invited Xiaomai to have lunch together.
“But I need to go see my husband first. Would you like to come with me?”
“Of course, I have nothing else to do anyway.”
Xiaomai’s emotions gradually steadied. After all, as an adult, she had some resilience to setbacks. Besides, having traveled into the world of her own novel was already an extraordinary experience. She was genuinely curious about what would happen next.
So, she followed Cen Huan into the Universal Tower, taking the elevator straight from the underground parking lot to the top floor.
She still remembered that, according to the story’s setting, the top floor was where the male lead, Ling Yu’s office, was located.
As soon as they entered the office, a sharply handsome man in a suit walked toward them.
Xiaomai couldn’t help but brighten up—could this be the male lead? He was even more handsome than she had imagined!
But the next moment, Cen Huan’s words dashed her hopes. “Secretary Xiao.”
“Mrs. Ling, hello. Mr. Ling is currently in a meeting and will be with you shortly.”
“That’s fine, I’ll wait for him.”
“Alright, please come this way.”
Xiaomai followed Cen Huan into a vacant conference room nearby, and only then did she recall who Secretary Xiao was.
In most CEO romance novels, the secretary is usually a tireless, self-sacrificing tool—often a stumbling block in the love story between the leads.
But Xiaomai always thought that made little sense. How could wealthy people be short of help? Besides, work is work, life is life—there’s no way a secretary could be on call 24/7. It just wasn’t realistic!
So in her own design, Secretary Xiao’s role was much smaller. Most of the trivial tasks were handled by the Ling family’s butler.
Naturally, Xiaomai didn’t have a deep impression of him.
However, Cen Huan seemed quite familiar with Secretary Xiao and even chatted with him for a bit, during which she mentioned another name—Zhuo Fei.
Who was that?
Xiaomai racked her brain but couldn’t remember this character at all. After all, she had written this book years ago, and most of the plot had faded from her memory.
She could only sit still, pretending to be uninterested in their conversation.
After a while, Cen Huan went to the office to speak with Ling Yu, leaving Xiaomai alone in the conference room.
She couldn’t sit still any longer and began to look around.
When she wrote this book, she was still a college student with no knowledge of corporate structures or workplace life. Everything she wrote was based on TV dramas, online research, or simply glossed over.
So, she was genuinely curious about what this world looked like from an angle she had never described.
Just as she was observing her surroundings, she suddenly heard a conversation outside the door—between a man and a woman. The man’s voice sounded like Secretary Xiao’s.
“Cen Huan is here? She just messaged me.”
“Mrs. Ling is talking with Mr. Ling.”
“Oh, are you busy now?”
“Not really, but there’s someone next door.”
“Who? Do I know them?”
“No idea. It’s a girl that Mrs. Ling brought along.”
“Then I definitely don’t know her. But why would Cen Huan bring someone here?”
Listening to the conversation, Xiaomai pondered the identity of the other person. Judging by the tone, the girl must be quite close to Cen Huan.
She only wanted the story to focus on the emotional entanglements between the male and female leads, so the other supporting characters remained inconspicuous. She did design a good friend for Cen Huan, but that character probably wouldn’t appear at the company just yet.
Xiaomai curiously walked to the door, wanting to sneak a peek inside.
But the conference room door was even more sensitive than she had imagined. She only lightly touched it, and the doorframe let out a loud creak, startling the three people inside.
“Sorry about that,” Xiaomai apologized awkwardly, taking the opportunity to finally get a clear look at the speaker’s face.
The other party was a girl with a somewhat cool and aloof aura. Dressed in professional attire, she looked neat and capable. Xiaomai glanced at her and drew a complete blank in her mind.
Because she wasn’t good at crafting workplace characters at the time, the plot involving Huan Yu had very little development from start to finish.
Could it be that when the world was being built, some characters were automatically filled in for the sake of plausibility?
Seeing Xiaomai’s embarrassment, the girl calmly and graciously helped her out, saying, “Don’t worry, this door is just like that. Anyone who touches it gets the same reaction—it’s especially prone to squeaking.”
Secretary Xiao then asked, “Hello, is there something you need?”
“Nothing much. I was just sitting for a bit and felt a little tired, so I wanted to walk around.”
The girl asked again, “Are you a friend of Cen Huan?”
Xiaomai felt a bit guilty and said, “Not really a friend, more like an acquaintance.”
“That’s quite a coincidence. I’m also an acquaintance of hers. Hi, I’m Zhou Zhuofei. I was her neighbor for several years.”
“Neighbor?” Xiaomai couldn’t help but repeat, a vague impression forming in her mind. “Cen Huan’s neighbor?”
“Yes, a former neighbor. She’s already moved out. You look a bit pale—are you okay?”
Xiaomai touched her cheek and explained, “Maybe I didn’t eat enough breakfast, feeling a little dizzy.”
“Do you want some chocolate?” Zhou Zhuofei nudged Secretary Xiao with her elbow. The gesture seemed casual but clearly showed a special relationship between them.
“The chocolate we bought last time—do you still have some in the office?”
“Yes, I’ll go get it.”
“Quick, go.”
Secretary Xiao turned and left, while Zhou Zhuofei reassured Xiaomai, “Low blood sugar is tough. We’ll get you some chocolate to eat.”
“Okay, thank you.”
Cen Huan’s kindness was expected, but Xiaomai didn’t expect that even a minor, seemingly insignificant character she bumped into would be so kind.
Sure enough, there are still more good people in this world!
Zhou Zhuofei was incredibly approachable, and with Xiaomai’s inexplicable maternal instinct toward everyone, she couldn’t help but start chatting.
The more they talked, the clearer Xiaomai’s memories became. At the very moment Secretary Xiao brought the chocolate, she remembered everything.
The name Zhou Zhuofei was hers!
Back in college, she loved pondering over names that sounded beautiful and meaningful. So even the smallest, most minor characters were given carefully chosen names by her.
Zhou Zhuofei was one of them, and her role was simply to add a finishing touch.
To be precise, this was a sudden inspiration that struck Xiaomai like a bolt from the blue.
Wanting to write a plot that made everyone envy Cen Huan, she came up with the idea of having a character appear to spark some conversation.
Thinking it over, Xiaomai felt a bit guilty—she had no real concept for Zhou Zhuofei’s character and had even created her just for the sake of another character, who had kindly given her some chocolate.
Secretary Xiao brought chocolate from the office, and Zhou Zhuofei handed it to Xiaomai. “This is caramel-filled with hazelnuts. Try it.”
“Thank you, you’re so kind.”
Zhou Zhuofei smiled brightly and replied, “You’re welcome. I like helping cute young ladies.”
“I’m not cute anymore, haha.”
“Nonsense. Girls are always the cutest. You should eat the chocolate first; you really don’t look well.”
While they chatted, Cen Huan walked out of the office. Seeing Zhou Zhuofei, she warmly greeted her.
“Zhuofei! It’s been so long since I last saw you!”
“Can’t help it, you’re just too busy, boss lady.”
“Why do you still call me that? It feels so weird.”
Xiaomai quietly listened to their conversation. She remembered that she hadn’t planned for the two of them to be so close. Clearly, reality wasn’t unfolding the way she had written it.
But then again, she had only crafted a story, while these people were living their lives seriously. Zhou Zhuofei was no longer just a character who appeared for a minute in the story.
It felt as if she had accidentally planted a seed, and now it had taken root and grown into a towering tree.
Even though Xiaomai hadn’t done much, the other person had made it happen on her own.
She didn’t need the author’s design or direction to live a good life. From Zhou Zhuofei, Xiaomai sensed an endless flow of vitality and passion for life.
This contrast made her start to wonder if she herself was the real paper doll.
Xiaomai pondered deeply. She had lunch with Cen Huan and chatted with her, learning quite a bit of what she already knew.
Cen Huan saw her home and even made plans to meet up again next time.
It was then that Xiaomai realized her own shortcomings—she had only designed Cen Huan’s romantic storyline, but her personal life was barely fleshed out, and what little there was served only to push the main plot forward.
So, Cen Huan’s life might not be as happy as Xiaomai imagined.
Back when Xiaomai was in college, a happy life probably just meant marrying a handsome, wealthy, and devoted CEO.
She had never seriously thought about where her writing might have gone wrong—until now.
Feeling mentally exhausted, she lay down on the sofa, planning to take a quick nap, until her phone’s ringing jolted her awake.
The phone buzzed persistently. Xiaomai picked it up and saw that it was her work group chat ringing off the hook. It was just past seven in the evening, and some colleagues were still working overtime, reporting their progress to the boss.
Had she... fallen asleep?
Xiaomai looked around in confusion. This was indeed her home, and then she recalled what she had been doing before falling asleep.
She had been watching a popular variety show, but found it boring halfway through and had dozed off.
The date was still yesterday, which meant she hadn't actually traveled to K City after all?
Xiaomai couldn't tell what was real anymore. She stared blankly at her computer for a while before finally deciding to open a document.
Maybe she could write another story?
