I am just an ordinary person.

Well, not exactly. My appearance and academic records might not be as dazzling as my oh-so-perfect older brother, but at least I have some talent in art and music. I've been playing the piano since I was eight, meaning I now have six years of experience under my belt. I also have a decent sense of pitch. As for drawing, I've been passionate about it since childhood, so my mother signed me up for art classes when I was in third grade. Oh, and I know a few self-defense moves too—thanks to my brother's training. All in all, wouldn't you say I'm somewhat "gifted"?

My family is well-off. My father runs a small company, and we rarely have to worry about financial struggles. We spend a lot of time together. This year, my brother entered university, so we don't go on outings as often as before, but during summer vacation, we always plan trips as a way to "make up for the tiring days."

I am a bookworm. Not exactly a "weeb" or "otaku" like today's youth often label, but I do spend an unreasonable amount of time buried in novels and manga. Time travel, horror, mystery, reincarnation, CEO romance, family feuds, strong female leads—name it, I've read it. I have a massive bookshelf at home, a digital library on my laptop, and I take great pride in this tiny achievement of mine.

Uh... I might have rambled on too much. My bad. I got a little carried away by my own pride.

Time-travel and reincarnation stories? I've read so many that I could predict every cliché twist before it even happens. But tell me, has anyone ever seriously believed they'd end up living the life of those protagonists?

If you've read this far, I assume you already know what situation I'm in. No need for me to spell it out.

Before my eyes lay an antique bed frame inside a grand, gold-adorned room that practically screamed luxury.

Ah. Of course.

As I mentioned earlier, I'm way too familiar with this type of cliché plot. There's no need for me to exclaim, "Huh? What? Is this a dream? Am I in heaven?"

Haha...

I am a dreamer. Many times, I've imagined myself waking up as some villainous noblewoman, stealing the heart of the male lead. Just imagine—a painful death, followed by waking up in an entirely new world, inside a new body, surrounded by unfamiliar faces.

Oh, don't lie. Anyone who's ever read these kinds of stories has fantasized about experiencing it at least once.

But come on, seriously? Who on earth actually grants this ridiculous wish of mine from my childish years?!

And what about my parents? My annoying brother? What happened to me back home? Did I die? Fall into a coma? Or did this girl's soul swap places with mine? But I literally just set my alarm, lay down on my bed, and dozed off.

Or—oh no. Did burglars break into my house last night? Did someone with a grudge against my father come after me? Did a storm destroy our home? Did my mom forget to turn off the gas? Or... did my dog Coco suddenly go rabid and bite me?

Ugh. Wrapping my head around this is nearly impossible.

At first, I didn't even dare to hope for a way back. My heart was consumed by fear, anxiety, and even despair. But then, my rational side kicked in. If I could time-travel or transmigrate into a book world, why not take advantage of it?

And then, my heart began to race. That was when I truly realized—I had actually transmigrated. And buried beneath the suffocating fear, there was also... excitement.

Following my instincts as an avid reader, I dashed toward the nearest mirror. I needed to see what kind of protagonist—me—I had become.

Oh. My. God.

You wouldn't believe it.

This girl was breathtaking. No—otherworldly.

Pale, almost ghostly skin stretched over a delicate yet sickly frame. She was tall, slender, and frail-looking. Yet, despite her fragile appearance, she radiated an ethereal beauty, her cherry blossom-colored hair cascading down her back in soft waves.

But her eyes—oh, her eyes!

A stunning shade of violet, gleaming with an unearthly glow. Deep and mesmerizing, they held a beauty so enchanting that if I were someone else, I'd probably drop dead on the spot just from looking into them. It was the kind of beauty that seemed like a divine gift.

I swear, if I walked down the streets in this body, the entire city—no, the entire world—would rush to take my picture.

Alright, alright. I'm fine. I'm totally fine.

For the sake of this stunning face, I will graciously tolerate whoever the hell dumped me into this godforsaken world.

But mark my words—no matter how long it takes, I will find a way to return to my beloved Vietnam.

And when that day comes, I am going to strangle the bastard responsible for this.