Crazy Criticism of the Second Male Lead’s Rescue Plan

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Novel Info

Author:
月見雲舒
Status:Ongoing

Summary

In the thirty-second year of Yongkang, Jiang Xingzhou pinned Feng Yi against the window of a high tower, forcing her to watch as he set fire to everything she had built.

Leaning close to her ear, his domineering breath brushed against her skin.

“Come back with me, or stay here. Your choice.”

A choice? Did she really have one? This madman was even crazier than he had been three years ago.

Feng Yi wrapped her arms around his neck, her almond-shaped eyes curving into a smile, dimples blooming like sweet wine.

“I’ll go back with you. From now on… Cousin, please take good care of me.”

She offered him her lips, while hidden currents churned in her eyes.

Jiang Xingzhou… why did you have to force me?

If that’s the case… then let me consume you instead, shall I?

Five years earlier, Feng Yi transmigrated into her own novel.

The reason?

The readers’ resentment was so overwhelming that they literally kicked the author—who had mercilessly abused the second male lead—into her own story.

The system that dragged her there coldly declared:

“Save the obsessive second male lead, Jiang Xingzhou, and give him a happy ending. Otherwise, your consciousness as the author will be erased.”

Then it disappeared completely, leaving behind not even the slightest cheat ability.

Fortunately, she had become Jiang Xingzhou’s nominal cousin, giving her the perfect opportunity to get close to him.

To complete her mission and return home, she spared no effort trying to match Jiang Xingzhou with the original heroine.

But being a matchmaker costs money.

So she rolled up her sleeves and returned to her old profession.

Whatever made money, she wrote—including the kind of stories that would never pass censorship.

One day, while happily working on a manuscript in a pavilion, Feng Yi chuckled to herself…

A voice drifted up behind her.

“‘Soft as peach pastries and willow branches, entwined with my lover; flowers bloom, dewdrops glisten, spring breezes moisten the blossoms.'”

Jiang Xingzhou toyed with a strand of her hair, smiling elegantly.

“Cousin, what exactly does this poem mean? Perhaps tonight… you could explain it to your cousin in detail. Hmm?”

She was doomed.

Her identity had been exposed.

And of all things—it was *this* pen name.

Wasn’t she supposed to be helping him end up with his destined love?

The way this lunatic was looking at her…

Everyone believed that Jiang Xingzhou, heir to the Marquis of Jing’an, was a gentleman as pure as the moon, elegant as an orchid, gentle as jade, refined as bamboo—a flawless immortal among men.

What nonsense.

Feng Yi wished she could rip off his perfect mask.

He was clearly a shameless rogue!

A lecher! A scoundrel! A beast liable to go mad at any moment!

Behind the bed curtains, this wretched man coaxed her into reenacting all one hundred and eight romantic scenarios she’d written as inspiration, making her recite the steamy verses she’d penned over and over again.

Later, someone asked Jiang Xingzhou:

“What is Feng Yi to you?”

He smiled.

“She’s my retribution.”

Coincidentally, Feng Yi answered the same way.

“He’s my retribution.”

Jiang Xingzhou’s Perspective

He knew exactly why his stepmother had brought Feng Yi into the household.

She was simply another woman meant to be pushed into his arms—not worth a second thought.

One day, while he was playing the qin, his so-called cousin stood nearby staring at him in a daze.

He scoffed.

Just like every other woman.

Then, unexpectedly, she smacked the back of her own hand, hugged herself, and squatted into a tiny ball.

She reminded him of the cat he’d once raised years ago.

Or perhaps a soft, fluffy snow-skin mochi.

For some inexplicable reason…

His hands itched to pet her.

His teeth itched to bite her.

Who would have guessed that this little mochi would have the audacity to write erotic stories…

And then dare to run away?

Yet in the end, he was the one pleading in a low voice:

“Yiyi… love me one more time. Please.”

Novel Items

Malt Candy

Food

A sweet treat Cheng Youyou remembered her grandmother making. She wanted to try making it herself from the wheat she had, to balance the bitterness of her herbal medicine. Sweet things are as rare as gold in the beast world.

Lotus pastries

Food

A plate of six lotus pastries left at the pawnshop, of which four remain after Grandma Mei and Mei Qian leave. Chen Acai eats one and comments on their deliciousness while criticizing the family for being pretentious.

Brown Sugar Date Cakes

Food

Given freely by Sister Wu at the pastry shop for little Yangyang. They are soft enough for the two-year-old to eat.

Jade Thumb Ring

Equipment

A fine jade thumb ring with delicate green Furong variety color. Stats: Agility +8, Max HP +25. Gender Restriction: Male. Durability: 350/350, repairable. Dropped by a Stone Monster after a three-hour fight. Moke Moke could not use it due to gender restriction and gave it as a gift to Cheng Shijia.

Dough Figurine

Toy

A small toy belonging to Yangyang that Jiang Xingzhou casually toys with before crumpling it into powder in his palm, symbolizing how the family is now fragile and crushed.

Height-increasing boots

Item

Specially crafted boots made by Yunniang for Feng Yi to increase her height. She puts them on before going to teach.

Latest Release

Date	Group	Release
2026-08-11	shanghai fantasy	c25
2026-08-11	shanghai fantasy	c24
2026-08-11	shanghai fantasy	c23
2026-08-11	shanghai fantasy	c22
2026-08-11	shanghai fantasy	c21
2026-08-11	shanghai fantasy	c20
2026-08-11	shanghai fantasy	c19
2026-08-11	shanghai fantasy	c18
2026-08-11	shanghai fantasy	c17
2026-08-11	shanghai fantasy	c16
2026-08-11	shanghai fantasy	c15
2026-08-11	shanghai fantasy	c14

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Popular reviews

yourrealDadRJf Review ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ November 12,2025

Let's talk about the imagery in this opening because it is STUNNING. The tung trees—'never counted among the famous flowers'—blooming at their finest, 'white petals traced with delicate crimson veins, as though stained with blood.' Right there in the first paragraph, the author is telling you everything you need to know about this story. Something beautiful hiding something violent. Ordinary life concealing something dark. And then the little girl with the twin buns, the overripe blossom landing on her head, her brother stomping it into the pavement. 'Such carefree childhoods,' Feng Qingyang thinks. This is the life he built. This is the peace he found. And the author makes you fall in love with it before destroying it. The contrast is brutal. One moment he's catching a tung blossom, twirling its stem between his fingers, inhaling its fragrance. The next moment, 'the familiar fragrance of flowers mixed with medicinal herbs had been replaced by an atmosphere of cold menace.' Twenty uniformed guards with sabers in a courtyard that used to hold roses. The roses! 'roses spilled over the courtyard wall in pink, white, orange, and crimson. He and Yunniang both loved flowers, and they had spent a long time collecting every color.' This detail matters. This is a home built with love, color, intention. And then it's invaded. The bath scene is also incredibly visual. 'Her long black hair floated freely. The disguise had been washed from her face and neck, revealing skin as fair and luminous as jade.' The water, the steam, the moonlight through the window, the jade thumb ring that's 'so cold it made her shiver.' There's a whole film score playing in my head for this scene. And the ending image—'Near the end of the fifth watch, dawn's first light streamed through the window. Sparrows chirped outside in search of food.' Life goes on. The sun rises. But everything has changed. The ordinary world continues while their private world has been shattered. The author uses setting like a weapon. Spring blossoms. A gentle breeze. A festival day. All of it makes the violence feel more violating because it's happening in a world that should be peaceful.

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Aiden453nk Review ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ April 30,2025

There's so much going on beneath the surface here and I'm obsessed. The central metaphor is light—Feng Yi is described as having a "pure and bright soul," like light itself, transparent and filled with every color. Jiang Xingzhou wants to gather that light and hide it away. That's not just romantic possession; it's the tension between enlightenment and control. Then there's the motif of writing and fate. She wrote this world, but the characters seem to have lives beyond her authorship. The system appeared out of nowhere. Moon's letter arrives with impossible timing. Is she still the author, or has she become text? The contraceptive herbs are a brilliant symbol too—she's trying to prevent consequences in a world where consequences are inescapable. Every choice she makes ripples. And Wang Lan's arc is the thematic heart: Feng Yi teaches her to see the chains, but seeing them doesn't break them. "Was it kindness or cruelty to let her see?" This question hangs over everything. The students' dreams are another layer—Ji Yinghe wants to serve the people, Zhuang Qiushi wants to feed them, Wang Lan has no dream because her future is already decided. Three paths, three fates, and Feng Yi is trying to rewrite them all while being trapped in her own story. The recurring image of the creaky bed, the small courtyard, the limited space—all of it speaks to confinement. She created this world, but it's smaller than she remembered.

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LaloVazquez Review ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ September 2,2025

I need a minute. The name. The name broke me. 'Linyuan, if we ever have a daughter, how about calling her 'Weiyang'?' 'Why Weiyang?' 'Changle Weiyang. May she live in everlasting joy and peace, blessed with a long and happy life.' He had this name ready. For a daughter they would never have. And she gave it to another man's child. That single detail—just three lines of dialogue from their past—carries more emotional weight than anything else in this entire chapter. It's not about the affair or the betrayal or the faked death. It's about a name. A name that was supposed to be theirs, now belonging to someone else's daughter. And the way Jiang Xingzhou delivers it—'You actually gave the name we'd picked for our daughter... to someone else's child?'—there's this childlike hurt underneath all the menace. He's not just angry she left. He's angry that she moved on so completely that even the words they shared together now belong to someone else. Then there's the bath scene where she whispers 'Linyuan'—his old nickname, the one she used when they were intimate—and it's the first time his 'rigid chill' softens. Three years of building himself into this cold, powerful marquis, and one word from her voice unravels it all. And his internal monologue: 'I'm afraid... I'll forgive you. I'm supposed to hate you, Feng Yi.' He's actively fighting his own heart. He wants to punish her but he can't because part of him still loves her. That's the tragedy of this whole thing—they're both trapped. She's trapped by guilt and fear, he's trapped by love he won't admit to. The physical intimacy between them is so complicated. It's supposed to be punishment, but it isn't. 'She wasn't dry.' 'They reached their peak together.' 'Just a little over fifteen minutes. Exactly like their first time.' He notices these things. He remembers these things. Of course he remembers. I'm not crying, you're crying.

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nironrik Review ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ August 5,2025

I have to appreciate the dialogue here because it's doing SO much work with very few words. Look at how Jiang Xingzhou speaks. Short. Sharp. Almost never a complete sentence when he's emotional. 'Good? Of course it was good!' 'Such a wonderful life...' 'That bastard child.' 'Serve this marquis well first. Then we'll discuss terms.' He's always performing power, even when he's falling apart. The fact that he refers to himself as 'this marquis' instead of 'I' when he's most vulnerable—that's character work right there. And Feng Yi's dialogue is equally telling. When she's in disguise as Feng Qingyang, her speech is formal, polite, measured. 'This humble scholar, Feng Qingyang, greets the Marquis of Jing'an.' But the moment the disguise comes off, her voice changes. 'Linyuan...' 'Please... don't touch her.' 'I'll do it. I will...' The softness returns. The desperation. The real her. The most powerful line in the entire text is probably the simplest: 'Have you married?' '...No.' 'Why?' That's it. Three lines. No elaboration. No explanation. And it contains an entire novel's worth of unspoken history. The author also uses dialogue to create dramatic irony. When Feng Qingyang tells Yunniang 'I'll be fine' and sends her away, we know he's lying. When Jiang Xingzhou says 'It's been a long time' with 'every syllable edged with frost,' we know this isn't a reunion—it's a reckoning. And the internal monologues! 'I'm afraid... I'll forgive you. I'm supposed to hate you, Feng Yi.' That's not dialogue between characters—that's dialogue between Jiang Xingzhou and himself. The author lets us hear the thoughts that the characters can't say out loud, and that's where the real emotional truth lives. The dialogue never feels expository. Nobody explains things directly. Everything is subtext, implication, the space between words. That's skilled writing.

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AH15 Review ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ October 10,2025

Just. The tung oil scene. Let me just sit with that for a moment. "If anyone had a fragile spirit, it was she—an unknown soul from somewhere else." Jiang Xingzhou doesn't know she's a transmigrator, obviously, but he somehow understands that she doesn't belong here in a way that goes deeper than he can articulate. So he does this small, superstitious thing—puts a drop of tung oil between her eyebrows to ward off evil. And in that gesture, you can see everything about how he loves her: possessive, protective, but also genuinely tender in his own flawed way. The carriage scene right after is where it gets complicated though. He's hungry for her, physically, and she's still angry with him about... well, everything. The manipulation, the deception, the fact that he tricked her into that first intimate moment. She says no, and he doesn't force it. He says "Later tonight then? I will be very gentle." And she says yes, but with that mischievous glint in her eye—she's plotting something. She's not a passive character in this relationship, even when she's being physically overpowered. What really gets me is the line: "Just as she knew he would never marry her, she also knew that he loved her." This is the central tragedy of their relationship. He loves her in the only way he knows how—through control, through possession, through condescending protection. And she accepts it because it's the most love she's going to get, even though she knows it will never be enough. She knows his respect will always be reserved for a proper wife. She knows she doesn't belong in his world. And yet here they are, cooking egg-fried rice together at a remote relay station like some ordinary couple. The moment he catches her cooking and says "Dear cousin, what fine dish have you made?"—that casual intimacy, that gentle smile—after everything we've seen between them, it's almost devastating. He's playing along with this domestic fantasy, and she lets him, even as she knows it can't last.

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KangGalonUWT Review ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ November 11,2025

Let me just say: the Ziyuan Temple scene is one of the most cinematic pieces of writing I have ever read and I need the author to slow down and let me live in this atmosphere for longer. The opening image of it — a thin mist hanging over the land, the sky overcast and dim, the party continuing north — it sets this entire mood of something sacred and slightly mournful. Then we follow Jiang Xingzhou up Big Foot Mountain, and the description of those stone steps is everything: worn smooth by centuries of footsteps, cracks between the stones lined with patches of green moss. You can feel the weight of every person who ever climbed this path on their knees, praying for something they couldn't control. And the temple itself — small, only a single main hall, one elderly priest whose age no one can guess, two young disciples. One sweeping the courtyard, one running about flying a kite. This is a place outside of time. The world below has wars and political marriages and death, but up here there is just stone and moss and an old man playing go and a child with a kite. The visual of Feng Yi three years ago arriving there is haunting: deathly pale, skin of her forehead torn and crusted with blood, barely able to stand, crawling on her knees into the main hall and collapsing unconscious right before the statue. The author doesn't show us this directly — we only hear it secondhand from Master Hebai — but it's more powerful because of that. It's like a memory that exists in the space between words. And then the final image: the white stone slipping from Jiang Xingzhou's fingers, bouncing across the board, coming to rest in a dead-end position. The game board becomes this tiny stage for his entire emotional collapse. One small object, one movement, and everything changes. The author knows exactly when to zoom in and when to pull back, and it's masterful.

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