I Snatched the Male Lead’s "Cool Novel" Script - Chapter 17

Yan Yu purposely took the long way around, entering the side room through the side door. She wanted to make sure the person inside didn’t hear her movement, lest she trigger another “explosion.”

Once inside with the door shut, she pulled over a stool and took out the pharmacopeia she had hidden in her sleeve, tucking it onto the top shelf of the bookcase.

This bookcase was one Yin Beiqing had moved in to create a temporary study. It held quite a few books; the maids had intended to clear them out, but Yan Yu had kept them. She had organized the books by category and size, even smoothing out the bent covers before shelving them. It was a small habit of hers—seeing a tidy bookshelf always improved her mood.

“I’m going into the Soul Domain for a bit. You two stay here and keep watch. If anyone comes looking, say I’m tired and resting,” Yan Yu said, taking off her shoes and lying on the bed.

“Okay.” Though Lu Jia didn’t know what Yan Yu was up to, it always obeyed its master’s orders without question.

Yan Yu entered the Soul Domain because Yin Beiqing’s earlier words had made her realize something was off.

When she first awakened the Soul Domain, things were too chaotic for her to dig deep. Thinking back now, the Soul Domain of Guo Lu (the original protagonist) was indeed special because of its soil—anything planted there grew rapidly and with superior quality. But that was it.

Yan Yu’s was different. That mysterious “Slime” hut was something outside her understanding. It stood there perfectly natural yet had helped her immensely—like providing that pharmacopeia. This was no mere “handwritten copy”; every page had the author’s handwritten notes and corrections, and the first page even had a signature.

If it were a copy, the scribe would prioritize the content to save time, rather than duplicating “flaws” like strike-throughs and margin notes. There was only one possibility: this was the original manuscript.

As Yan Yu circled the exterior of the hut pondering this, she stopped directly behind the building. On the wall was a long string of golden characters, uneven to the touch as if carved with a knife.

Looking at the words, Yan Yu felt pulled by an invisible force, her lips moving unconsciously to recite them. They were in Polaic, a language she could read but whose meaning she couldn’t grasp; the words seemed randomly strung together.

The moment she finished the last word, the entire Soul Domain shook violently. She looked toward the distance and saw the horizon being “peeled back” by an invisible hand. In an instant, the scenery transformed completely.

Everything was white—white sky, white ground. Her feet felt like they were treading on invisible glass; with every step, a block beneath her lit up. Around her was a vast, endless void. The hut had vanished.

A Soul Domain is a projection of the owner’s subconscious. For some, it is a perilous forest; for others, a blue ocean. For most, it is a peaceful home—a spiritual sanctuary. When Yan Yu first arrived, her mind was still attached to her old world, so the hut looked like her modern home because that was where she felt most familiar.

But now, it was gone.

Yan Yu squinted but couldn’t see the end of the glowing glass tiles. After two steps, she remembered this was her domain; she didn’t need to do this the hard way. With a thought, she teleported to the far end.

There stood a tree.

It was a towering tree with every leaf glowing golden. Its foliage was as dense as a mushroom cloud, supported by a massive, sturdy trunk. Surrounding it were the Soul-Gathering Grass and Lotus Beads she had planted earlier. The tree was encased in a dome-shaped glass shield with no visible entrance. Yan Yu pressed her palm against it to find a mechanism, but her hand passed right through.

Stunned, she walked toward the tree, only to be tripped by a protruding root. She tumbled to the ground, her palms pressing into soft soil and the bag of seeds from Yin Beiqing spilling out.

Several Amber Grass seeds rolled into the dirt. Before she could pick them up, the earth seemed to come alive, opening up to swallow them. Yan Yu watched, agape, as the massive tree began to tremble, its leaves rustling loudly. Suddenly, a golden leaf clattered down, landing right by her hand.

As Yan Yu hesitated, a branch extended, scooped up the golden leaf, and offered it to her. This “feeding” style felt incredibly familiar. She took it and saw a line of small text on the leaf:

“The sun rises in the west, the Demon Blade descends; the Goddess holds the blade to dispel the Nightmares.”

For several days, Yan Yu didn’t see Ji Wu. According to news Panpan scouted, Ji Wu had been punished by Yin Beiqing for the ruined rockery and sent out on a mission. Things were peaceful.

Though Yan Yu’s room shared a wall with Yin Beiqing’s, the latter didn’t use the proximity to invade her privacy. In fact, Yin Beiqing rarely even returned to her own room. She was elusive, often disappearing to places even the maids couldn’t find. Because she didn’t need sleep, she often left at three or four in the morning. Though she was quiet, Yan Yu—burdened by her weak constitution—often woke up in cold sweats and would occasionally hear Yin Beiqing’s movements.

One day, it rained all day and the wind picked up at night. The damp smell in the room was unbearable, so Yan Yu left the window cracked open. Since her soul power had improved, her senses were sharper; she could overhear the maids whispering as they passed.

“It’s a Blue Moon tonight.” Two maids with lanterns passed her door. Langdie Valley was patrolled 24/7 by Grade B or higher maids in pairs.

“What about the Blue Moon?” the other asked.

Since the rain made sleep impossible, Yan Yu propped her head on her arm and listened.

“Legend says the Blue Moon is when Evil Spirits come out in mass to feed. Their soul power is strongest then. Remember the market case? A Grade A spirit killed seven people; the whole street was covered in blood.”

“For real? I’m getting goosebumps…”

As they drifted away, Yan Yu’s sleepiness vanished. Rain, a Blue Moon, and the hours after midnight… the conditions felt strangely familiar. She remembered a similar description in the original book. But where?

Creak. A door somewhere swung open in the wind, then softly shut.

The rain grew heavier, but Yan Yu finally remembered! The day a young Yin Beiqing was hunted down looked exactly like this—midnight, pouring rain. It was after witnessing her old servant die protecting her that Yin Beiqing awakened Ji Wu’s power.

The original text mentioned that this night was a hidden trauma for Yin Beiqing. As an adult, every rainy night with a Blue Moon caused her to “sleepwalk” uncontrollably. Connecting this to Yin Beiqing’s recent nocturnal behavior…

Yan Yu sat up, throwing off the covers. She knocked on the small connecting door. “Yin Beiqing, are you there?”

No answer.

Bolstering her courage, she pushed the door open. The bed was empty. A faint scent of incense lingered, looking as if it had only just been extinguished. She hadn’t gone far.

Yan Yu grabbed an oil-paper umbrella and ran toward the back mountain. Yin Beiqing’s childhood home had a similar mountain; she used to pick herbs there and knew the complex paths well. On the night she was hunted, she had instinctively led the old servant there. If she was “sleepwalking,” the back mountain was the most likely destination.

The path was slick and muddy. Yan Yu, worried Yin Beiqing would do something reckless without supervision, didn’t slow down even after splashing mud all over her clothes.

“Yin Beiqing! Are you here?”

Rain hammered against the umbrella as if trying to punch through the paper. Yan Yu wiped her face and spotted a scrap of white cloth caught on a bush. Only one person in Langdie Valley wore such expensive, silver-threaded fabric.

Following a trail of intermittent footprints, she finally found the white-clad figure. Yin Beiqing stood stiffly, walking in slow, repetitive circles around a tree, muttering under her breath.

Calling it “sleepwalking” wasn’t entirely accurate. She wasn’t asleep; she was conscious but lost in a delirium of obsession. Unless awakened by an outsider or the conditions changed, she wouldn’t regain her senses.

Yan Yu approached, keeping a safe distance. “Yin Beiqing?”

No response.

Yan Yu remembered Yin Beiqing’s family used to call her by a pet name. She tried again: “Qing’er?”

The figure circling the tree finally reacted, peering toward Yan Yu. She tilted her head, her eyes dull, but she answered. “Hm?”

“It’s raining, Qing’er.”

“Yes.” Yin Beiqing nodded once, then again, more violently. “It’s raining… raining… raining!” She suddenly began to panic, trembling and staring at the void. “They’re here! They’ve come to kill me!”

“No, no one is going to kill you,” Yan Yu said, stepping closer.

Yin Beiqing couldn’t hear her. She grabbed Yan Yu’s hand. “Run!”

“No one is hunting us!” Yan Yu stabilized herself and pulled her back. “Can you hear me?”

Yin Beiqing continued her unintelligible muttering, beginning to gnaw on her fingernails—crunch, crunch—even as they began to bleed.

“Yin Beiqing!” Yan Yu cupped the woman’s face, forcing eye contact. “Look at me.”

The umbrella was lost in the struggle. The freezing rain pelted their faces, but Yan Yu forced her eyes open to convey her sincerity.

“Who… are you?” The usually sharp eyes were now filled with confusion.

Yan Yu realized that without her sharp thorns, Yin Beiqing was just a girl lacking a sense of security.

“I am Yan Yu.” She stared into Yin Beiqing’s eyes, speaking clearly. “Only I am real. Everything else is a hallucination. Remember, you only need to believe in me.”

“Believe in you…”

“Yes. Believe in me.” Yan Yu rested Yin Beiqing’s head on her shoulder and patted her back. “It’s all fake. I say it’s fake, so it’s fake.”

“Fake?” Buried in the crook of Yan Yu’s neck, Yin Beiqing chewed on the word. Suddenly, she recoiled, her face twisting in rejection. She grabbed Yan Yu’s slender neck. “Liar! You’re lying! You’re the one who’s fake!”

“I… won’t… lie to you.” Yan Yu struggled to breathe but gritted her teeth. “I am the Goddess. The Goddess does not lie. As long as I am here, I will never let anyone hurt you.”

Yan Yu felt that if there was a reason she had traveled into this book, it was for Yin Beiqing—the heroine she empathized with most.

“Goddess.” Yin Beiqing repeated the word, her vacant eyes slowly regaining color.

Right. The Goddess. The Goddess had appeared, so there was hope for her, the “thousand-year scourge.”

“Are you okay?”

“I…” Yin Beiqing’s gaze focused. Her memory reconnected, and she shook her head to clear it. Knowing her own condition, she wasn’t surprised by her surroundings; she felt a sense of “as expected.”

She rubbed her aching temples and frowned at the soaked Yan Yu. “Why are you here?”

“…”

Yin Beiqing noticed the umbrella on the ground. With a flick of her finger, she summoned it through the air to hold over Yan Yu. “Are you that confident in your health?”

Yan Yu thought she was being caring and was about to say thanks, but the woman added snidely, “If you catch a cold again, it’s my medicine you’ll be wasting.”

“Don’t worry, if I catch a cold, I won’t take a single drop of your medicine!” Yan Yu was almost laughed with anger.

Yin Beiqing noticed Yan Yu shivering. She snapped her fingers, using spirit arts to dry Yan Yu’s clothes instantly. “Go back.”

“I was planning to go back without you telling me!” Yan Yu reached for the umbrella, but Yin Beiqing moved it away. “When a short person holds the umbrella, neither of us is comfortable.”

You’re so powerful, you probably don’t even need an umbrella to stay dry, right? Yan Yu thought, but didn’t dare say it.

“Walk forward. Why are you looking at me?” Yin Beiqing gestured. “Next time, don’t run to the back mountain. Don’t you know this place—”

Listening to the voice beside her, Yan Yu noticed it suddenly stop. She looked up curiously. “What about this place?”

She followed Yin Beiqing’s gaze. In the ink-black night, a green-eyed “creature” had emerged. Its fur was sparse, revealing patches of skin. Its open mouth displayed rows of bone-white teeth, saliva dripping onto the grass as it panted. It looked like an oversized hound.

Yan Yu quickly identified it as an Evil Spirit—a human or beast that lost its mind after soul power backlashed during cultivation. A cloud of black fog, known as “Miasma,” surrounded it. The thicker the miasma, the higher the grade of the spirit. The miasma from high-grade spirits could drive ordinary people mad or cause them to self-harm just by inhaling it.

However, the miasma on this one wasn’t thick; it seemed to have only recently turned.

Something is wrong. Why was Yin Beiqing’s expression so solemn?

The answer came quickly. The creature let out a low bark, but before it could charge, its green eyes lost focus and it collapsed.

Then, a strange sound came from inside its body.

Skritch, skritch, skritch… Like thousands of ants crawling on a skull. It was skin-crawling.

Suddenly, a centipede as thick as an arm burst from the body, twisting its long frame arrogantly in the air, its countless legs enough to make anyone’s hair stand on end. Simultaneously, a nauseating stench spread with terrifying speed.

It was Miasma, at a concentration far higher than normal.

A mask, still warm from Yin Beiqing’s skin, was placed over Yan Yu’s face, covering her nose and mouth.

Yan Yu instinctively looked up to find Yin Beiqing’s gaze, but the woman covered her eyes. “Close your eyes. Don’t open them until I tell you to.”