[Vol. 1] Chapter 1 - Crimson Dynasty
In the dim office, a single cubicle was illuminated by the cold glow of a monitor. The frantic sound of typing cut through the heavy silence.
"Overtime again..." Yonchae grumbled, slumped in her chair. Her fingers stilled as her phone vibrated on the desk.
She picked it up. "Oh."
A notification: her rent was due. Ironically, her birthday had become the most stressful day of the month.
No messages.
No"Happy Birthday!" texts.
Nothing.
"How? How can I possibly make more money?" Her heavy-lidded eyes stared at the ceiling as if it held the answers.
Her one birthday wish wasn't for wealth or reconciliation, but for true immersion in Crimson Dynasty.
—to trade her monotonous life for the vibrant world of cultivation, a world that felt more real than her own.
With a trembling hand, she opened her favorite escape: an otome game, a comfort as necessary as cigarettes to a smoker.
Crimson Dynasty, an ABO otome set in an ancient Eastern empire. It was her bitter birthday solace.
The home screen loaded, revealing a serene riverside festival at night.
A stone arch bridge, lined with soft golden lamps, rose gracefully over a canal. Crimson lanterns hung densely from its rails and the eaves of nearby buildings, their warm reflections dancing on the water's surface.
The canal itself glimmered with floating lanterns, drifting like fallen stars.
On the right stood Qing Yao, the female lead, in simple white robes and ornate hairpieces. She held a parasol draped with yellow ribbons.
Beside her was a tall, slender man with an angular face and piercing eyes fixed solely on her—Lin Xiao, the third male lead. He wore a black hanfu over a white undershirt, his hand resting gently over hers.
A trail of translucent color swirled around them, representing their auras: a cool, grayish purple for him, and a soft, warm green for her.
A weary smile touched Yonchae's lips. Then, a pop-up appeared:
"Happy birthday, User «Chaebom»!"
A chibi version of the female lead held a cake. Behind her was a birthday letter.
Ironic, that the only thing celebrating her was a game. Still, it made her smile.
She read:
"May your worries be as fleeting as drifting lanterns,
your joys as bright as fireworks over the Imperial City,
and your path ahead lined with gentle warmth and unexpected blessings.
No matter where you are, or how you feel today…
please remember:
someone in this world is always waiting for you to return.
Happy Birthday, «Chaebom»."
Below the letter was a button labeled [Claim]. Yonchae clicked it.
[Obtained: 500 Spirit Stones]
[Obtained: Love-Filled Cake]
Then, another pop-up appeared...a rectangular, luxuriously designed interface in an oriental style. Five banners materialized, each featuring one of the male leads.
The first banner showed Crown Prince Shen Yu. His dark crimson court robes, embroidered with golden dragons.
The second banner featured Wen Ruhai, an inner disciple and physician of a prestigious Immortal sect.
The third banner displayed Lin Xiao, the straightforward young lord of the Azure Lin-Lao-Chen Clan. His voice was flat,
"With all your schemes and calculations didn't account for the one variable that would ruin everything—me falling for you."
Yonchae cringed as if she had bitten into a lemon, but she endured. Endure, endure, endure!
She ignored the other two leads, quickly scrolled past, and slid further left. More banners appeared, featuring female leads and even villains.
Humming, she clicked on the last one: [Feng Yue].
"You have invited [Feng Yue]."
"Loading CG..." The ellipses stuttered, disappeared, and reappeared.
A languid, cold voice cut through the digital silence, sharp enough to freeze the air.
"Speak."
Empress Feng Yue leaned close, as if examining an insect. Her regal features were rendered in impossibly high definition.
"I'm thinking of treating myself to steam buns for my birthday. Do you want to come with?" Qing Yao answered, warmth and determination flowing from her eyes.
One of Feng Yue's perfectly sculpted eyebrows arched a fraction. A silence stretched, so heavy Yonchae could hear the frantic beat of her own heart through the screen.
"So you're here now… to announce your birthday." A hint of cold amusement finally colored her voice.
"Do you come for a favor? A blessing?" She leaned forward slightly, the scent of frost and spider lilies thickening in the air. "Or…"
Feng Yue's gaze drifted from Qing Yao's face directly toward the screen. Her expression was striking. The sound of rustling scrolls filled the silence.
"...perhaps you merely expect me to be the one person who remembered."
Her eyes snapped back, pinning Qing Yao in place. They held no pity, only a terrifying clarity.
"Loneliness is a very common ailment."
Yonchae's heart hammered, the only sound drumming in her quiet cubicle.
"Oh my god!!! Feng Yue! Aaaahhhh!" Yonchae's whole face flushed crimson. That's right… she was a frantic supporter of the ways of Yuri.
She gazed longingly at Feng Yue, then at Qing Yao, her mind racing as she shipped them.
Though Crimson Dynasty focused mainly on male leads, it didn't stop her, this eccentric, from shipping lilies!
"If only GL otome games were popular, there would be more of it…" Yonchae muttered, feeling a pang of depression.
On screen, the CG continued.
Feng Yue lounged in a lazy, languid pose, as if Qing Yao were utterly beneath her notice.
The scene shifted to a back view of Qing Yao, a blurry vase in the foreground. For just a second, Feng Yue's eyes darted toward the vase before returning.
Roar, roar, roar! Buy! Must buy! Yonchae's mind screamed. Feng Yue was engraved in her heart.
Swiftly, she tried to order a custom Feng Yue figurine from a trusted site on her work computer.
A pop-up informed her she didn't have enough funds.
Then, another notification appeared:
"Daily Server Maintenance Check! We have encountered a game issue with the reported character: [Feng Yue], leading to corrupted files in most game folders. No cloud saves can restore game progress."
Only then did Yonchae realize her phone screen had frozen. A loading icon spun.
Pah! Hateful!
A wave of extreme stress, anger, and a piercing pain in her chest overwhelmed her. Yonchae fell backward in her chair and lost consciousness.
The world turned black, a void… numb and empty.
Drifting in a cold, dark, unfamiliar nothingness, she was immobile. It felt like being plunged into the ocean's depths, a heavy weight pulling her down.
Suddenly, she lurched forward, coughing violently.
Cough, cough! Yonchae's eyes widened in shock as she took in her unfamiliar surroundings.
The last things she remembered: a dizzy spell, her rent due, and that stupid maintenance notice.
She blinked. Dark wood panels. Silk sheets. The room was far from neat.
The low wooden bed by the window was half-made, its thin quilt kicked aside. A bamboo practice staff, weighted wristbands, and a rolled-up training mat were piled at the foot.
"No. Way." She sat up and pinched her arm.
"It worked? My wish? I actually isekai'd? Or transmigrated? On my birthday? This is the best-worst birthday present ever!"
The immersion was absolute. Her wish was granted. Here, she would live well. She would be happy.
"Am I still Yonchae, or…" she muttered, her heart thumping.
But she had no time to think! The game was a romance, but it had RPG and cultivation elements, too!
She panted, so excited she could faint. Forcing herself to be still, she breathed in and out. She wanted to kiss the Lady of Fate for bringing her here.
Sure, she'd died in the real world...but would anyone really care? Here, she could start anew.
She looked down at her hands, clenching and unclenching them.
"If I'm really in Crimson Dynasty…" Truthfully, she was unsure.
But it could be proven. Mimicking the lotus position from the game, she took deep breaths.
A warm feeling seeped into her navel, a gentle heat that pulsed through her bloodstream.
A strange, thrumming energy, like a second heartbeat made of light. With every cycle of breath, the warmth spread, carving paths through her meridians.
"It's… real." Yonchae's eyes snapped open. She had felt qi. "It's real!"
Unknowingly, tears had begun to fall. Everything was surreal. She confirmed, again and again, that she was in Crimson Dynasty. Her mind raced with lively prospects.
Her life as Yonchae had taught her to avoid hope, it made disappointment too painful. Yet, for the first time in her pathetic life, she dared to hope.
She stood and found a round bronze disc on a table.
The face in the reflection was unfamiliar yet familiar, certainly not one from the game. No longer a woman in her twenties with tired lines, this face was new.
"A new face model! And… not bad!" she mused, her eyes crinkling into mischievous crescents as she examined her new, androgynous features. She looked like a teenager.
Squeezing her own cheeks and then winking, the only word she had was: "This face… is deadly."
She gave herself a pat-down. "Phew. Female avatar. Good. The GL route is still open for business." The thought of possessing a male body sent shivers down her spine; owning that would be too awkward.
Next: the UI. She squinted at the air. Transmigrations like this often came with a system…
"Okay, system? Inventory? Status screen? Golden finger? Come on, don't be shy. 'Open' or 'Customer Support'? Anything?"
Nothing. Lazy game developers.
She thought back. This face was unfamiliar. She'd first wondered if she was a young Feng Yue, but the future Empress would not keep scabbards lying around.
"Yep, definitely not Feng Yue." The Empress would never tolerate this mess.
And then it hit her. The full, magnificent, horrifying implication.
Oh.
Oh, no.
She had spent hours shipping Feng Yue with the female lead from the safety of her cubicle. She had cheered for Feng Yue's cutting remarks, adored her psychotic grace.
But that was when "psycho" was a tag on a fan wiki, and "blood-soaked" was a palette choice for a digital artist.
The real Feng Yue was an apex predator. The image of her blood-spattered white robes flashed again, no longer beautifully stylized, but wet, and real.
A terrified, exhilarated laugh bubbled in her throat. "I'm an idiot. I isekai'd into my favorite horror movie."
She shivered. The romanticized bloom of red spider lilies was now replaced by a simple, awful truth: blood was just blood.