Chapter 1
Chapter 1: Transmigrated to Another World, and I Became a Worthless Scumbag?
I, Qian Qi, transmigrated.
On the university’s Back Mountain ridge, a short-haired girl in a sleeveless T-shirt and baggy shorts squatted on a tiny wooden stool. One hand pinched an invisible cigarette butt. Somehow, she still blew out a perfect smoke ring—then made the exact face you made when life had just drop-kicked you off a cliff.
“What the hell is this?”
Qian Qi dragged her fingers through rough, messy hair. She’d spent the whole night grinding out her agriculture thesis. Then the world went black—just like that—and she woke up as this world’s “Qian Qi.”
And this world’s “Qian Qi” was nothing like her.
Back home, she’d been the “quiet and kind” type. Soft-spoken. Fragile-looking. She studied, worked the fields, and once upon a time she’d even been crowned the college’s top-student goddess.
But here?
Here, “Qian Qi” was a campus tumor everyone wanted to stomp out.
She was infamous across every major for being an absolute menace who loved fighting. She had a signature move, too: loudly demanding other people’s stuff because she was “poor,” then never returning a single thing.
As if that weren’t enough, she was dead last in her major. She skipped so many classes she might as well have been filing for forced expulsion.
A classic loser-scumbag setup.
Normally, Qian Qi would’ve shrugged. Image problems could be fixed. Personal charm. Work ethic. A smile that didn’t look like a threat. Easy.
Except—
She lifted her head and stared at the sky.
In the distance, black holes—big and small—hung like bruises torn into reality. At the foot of the mountain, enormous plants thrashed as if possessed, vines whipping and leaves snapping like blades.
Qian Qi swallowed. Suddenly she felt very, very aware of how breakable humans were.
Why did this world look like a death trap?
From the scattered memories she’d inherited, she pieced together the basics. This world was full of unstable “magic creature instances.” Dangerous magic beasts and magic plants lurked inside them, and every so often something crawled out and threatened human settlements.
Humans with talent could awaken skills to fight back.
The university she attended existed for that exact reason—training young awakeners to enter instances and hunt magic creatures. It even had a name that sounded like it belonged on a propaganda poster:
Awakeners University.
At first, Qian Qi had been thrilled. If the original owner got into Awakeners University, that meant she’d awakened a skill.
Then Qian Qi found out the original owner’s major, and her smile died in real time.
Magic Plant Studies.
Also known as: Magic—Unpopular—No Money Future—Plant Studies.
Years ago, an expert publicly declared that magic plants were useless to humanity, and studying them was a waste of time.
Other experts insisted the opposite—that magic plants could be used to develop drugs that strengthened the human body. They just hadn’t found the right method yet.
After the world’s loudest academic screaming match, humanity compromised by establishing the Magic Plant Research Institute. Unfortunately, it produced basically nothing for years, and the entire field became a public punching bag.
So almost nobody chose it.
And it wasn’t just unpopular—it was dangerous. One wrong move and a magic plant could kill you. Even if you graduated, your best option was the Magic Plant Research Institute, where the pay was so low you’d be better off fixing lightbrains.
Who in their right mind would choose Magic Plant Studies?
Not Qian Qi. Not ever.
But—
She covered her face.
This major didn’t require tuition. Even people without awakened skills could apply.
And she, Qian Qi, was exactly the kind of broke nobody with no awakened skills.
“Why me?!” she groaned.
She lifted the hoe in her hands and stabbed it toward the sky like she was personally accusing the heavens. “Come on! At least give me a cheat or something!”
[Ding!
System key action detected. Farming skill activated!
]
[Awakened Skill 1: Analysis Technique
Description: Analyzes knowledge related to magic plants
Refresh: three times a day]
[Awakened Skill 2: Miracle Hand
Description: Magic plants grown by an awakener have higher yield and a higher degree of magical mutation
Refresh: none]
Qian Qi: …!
A blue panel floated right in front of her face.
Her mouth fell open.
“The cheat… actually showed up?”
[^_^ Yes.]
“…You can even talk to me?”
[Can’t~]
Qian Qi stared. “You literally just—”
She clamped her mouth shut. Fine. The cheat was as rebellious as the original owner. Great. Perfect. Love that for her.
The sun climbed higher, spilling thin gold across the Back Mountain. Qian Qi looked toward the patchwork of magic plants the seniors had planted up here, and her expression turned grim.
She remembered how the original owner had died.
Last night, the original owner had snuck onto Back Mountain to steal a magic plant fruit. Before doing it, she’d asked her roommate about that magic plant’s weakness. The roommate—smart, top of the class—had given her the wrong answer.
And the original owner died in the magic plant’s mouth.
Near dawn, Qian Qi transmigrated into that same body. The original owner’s neck had been torn open, and even as her breath failed, one hand stayed clenched around the fruit like a death grip.
Qian Qi reached into the cloth pouch at her waist and felt the hard shape inside.
She’d only inherited fragments of memory. She still didn’t know why the original owner had risked everything for this.
“First things first,” she muttered. “Back to the dorm.”
She tugged at the blood-soaked sleeveless T-shirt, glanced down at the oversized shorts and battered flip-flops, and felt a wave of exhaustion at the original owner’s fashion choices.
…
Following the original owner’s memory, Qian Qi shouldered the hoe and headed down the mountain.
The dorm was quiet at this hour. Her roommates were asleep. Qian Qi pushed the door open and immediately locked onto Chen Miao Miao’s bed.
This was the roommate who’d fed the original owner the wrong information.
Qian Qi set the hoe down, touched her shredded neck, and smiled—slow and nasty.
The wound looked horrifying, but it didn’t hurt. Better yet, she could feel it knitting itself back together.
“Don’t tell me my cheat comes with infinite healing too?” she asked, hopeful, turning toward the System like it might be hiding bonus features.
[^_^ Beginner benefits. Don’t get ideas.]
Qian Qi: …
That smiley face was begging to be punched.
She yanked open Chen Miao Miao’s bed curtain and shoved her awake.
Chen Miao Miao bolted up, half-asleep and furious—until her eyes landed on Qian Qi’s blood-smeared face, the raw hate in her stare, and the torn flesh at her neck.
“Miao Miao,” Qian Qi crooned, sweet as poison, “I died so miserably—”
“Ahhh!”
Chen Miao Miao screamed like her soul was trying to evacuate. The whole dorm snapped awake.
“A ghost!”
“Holy shit—what happened?!”
“Chen Miao Miao, why are you shrieking?”
“Who’s yelling?”
Qian Qi enjoyed the horror on Chen Miao Miao’s face for one full, delicious second. Then she let the curtain fall and walked back to her own bed like she hadn’t just committed emotional arson.
Oh. That felt amazing.
[I didn’t expect your personality to be much better than the original owner’s.]
Qian Qi waved both hands. “Don’t slander me. I’m super gentle and kind, okay?”
She was a civilized person.
A really, really good person.
If it were the original owner, Chen Miao Miao would’ve been slapped into next week.
The dorm stayed chaotic for a while before Chen Miao Miao finally clawed her way back from panic. She glared at Qian Qi—who was now sitting there acting innocent—and snapped, “Qian Qi! Why did you scare me just now?!”
Her gaze flicked over Qian Qi’s neck, and her heartbeat spiked. Did Qian Qi know? Did she realize last night’s answer had been wrong on purpose?
Chen Miao Miao had been sure Qian Qi would die. Instead, she came back alive.
But… so what? Chen Miao Miao had only “accidentally” gotten it wrong. It wasn’t like she’d known Qian Qi was going to steal the fire qilin lotus fruit!
Right. She didn’t know. Not her problem.
And just like that, the bastard heroine Qian Qi officially went live—System’s favorite in a beast-taming world.
Who could possibly stand in her way?
Chapter 1 of Dog-Petting Guide: “How to Make Your Beloved Dog More Flexible?”
It began with a story.
Dog Three was a dog who’d been single for ten thousand years—alone, miserable, guarding an empty home. One day, his master brought back a female dog, and the two of them started living a shamelessly sweet life together.
Then, suddenly, the couple went cold. Especially Dog Three, who grew gloomy and stopped eating.
The master, desperate for puppies, tried everything. Nothing worked. Finally, he dragged them to the pet hospital.
After the doctor’s diagnosis, the master learned the truth: Dog Three had been rejected for being too stiff—he couldn’t deliver the “positions” his wife wanted. He’d shut down from shame.
So the doctor performed a “joint-release massage,” restoring Dog Three’s flexibility. The couple reconciled and returned to their shamelessly sweet life.
And then the book teased: So what exactly was this “bone-opening massage method”? First—
Qian Qi: …
This book felt… wildly unhealthy.
She looked again and noticed a tiny 18+ warning in the corner.
Qian Qi: …
Damn it.
Now she wanted to read it even more.
“Where’s chapter two?”
She poked the book.
The page flipped.
“To unlock Chapter 2, scan the QR code below and pay 500,000.”
Qian Qi’s smile died.
Right as she started reaching for the System with murder in her eyes, the System fled at top speed.
It reappeared at a safe distance, cackling like it had won a war.
Haha! Didn’t expect that, did you?
You have your tricks, I have mine.
Try to fight this System? You’re still too green.
Qian Qi was so angry she almost spat blood.
It sold chapters separately?
Fine.
She would remember this.
Her gaze snapped to A Tu.
A Tu, sensing doom, shivered.
It opened its eyes just in time to see Qian Qi reach out and grab the throat of its fate.
A Tu: ???
Again?!
“Where is it…” Qian Qi murmured, fingers searching along its neck.
When she found two specific points, the “joint-release massage” section in her head rose like a ghost taking over her hands.
With perfect precision, she twisted.
Crack.
The sound was crisp.
A Tu didn’t even have time to react.
It tilted its head, blinking.
Huh?
What just cracked?
Qian Qi grabbed its front paw and twisted again.
Crack.
A Tu: ?????????
What was that?
Why did that feel… good?
Why did it feel like its whole soul had been scrubbed clean?