Great!

  I’m in a damn novel!

  Just what I needed, - I muttered to myself, standing in the middle of a dense, foggy forest.

  I looked around at the epic landscape of towering trees and glowing mushrooms.

  Oh, how glorious.

  Except, well, I wasn’t supposed to be here.

  I had transmigrated.

  Yes, yes, I know—it’s a classic setup.

  One moment I was a swordmaster of the Stormglass Sect, top ten warrior of the Eastern Peaks.

  Next thing I knew, I was waking up in some third-rate cultivation novel.

  And not even the fun kind.

  No, this was that kind of story.

  The ones with overpowered, completely unrealistic female leads who are always too perfect.

  The “Innocent Yet Strong Heroine” trope, to be specific.

  You know the one—

  Blessed with unimaginable strength, pure of heart, and totally unaware that every male character is falling over themselves for her.

  Even the Demon Lords.

  Ugh, I hate it already - I groaned, pacing in a circle.

  Why do I have to be her?

  For context, I, an actual legendary warrior from a well-known cultivation sect, just got stuck inside this...this...cliched, flat character.

  If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

  Shu Lian, the perfectly innocent, so pure she could be on a magazine cover, girl next door.

  But okay, fine - I grumbled.

  I’m stuck with this role, but why doesn’t it come with some actual power and independence?

  Why am I stuck being weak, clueless, and perfect?

  Why does everyone think I'm some sort of goddess?

  All I want to do is get through this without throwing up all over my flying sword.

  It’s not even a real sword! Just some overdesigned, glittering prop fit for a beauty pageant.

  The crowd blinked, confused.

  But that didn’t stop them from following me around like a pack of lost puppies.

  - Shu Lian - one of the disciples began, his voice trembling with awe: Please, can I—can I just carry your sword for you?

  You deserve to rest while we serve you!

  - NO!

  I can carry my own sword, I snapped, clutching the dull, ornate weapon that I would never in a million years know how to use.

  Another boy rushed forward, holding a basket of “fruit”—from the most expensive and rare trees, I assumed.

  - You deserve the finest food, my lady!

  Would you like this fruit? It’s mystic.

  - Please, stop - I said, my voice becoming a strangled squeak.

  I don't even eat fruit.

  I eat actual food—not whatever this weird, magical nonsense is!

  Meanwhile, my new "self" was being a good girl, smiling, nodding, and accepting everything like she had no real opinions. She was so perfect I could have died from the sheer irritation of it.

  - Why can't I just be myself? - I shouted to the sky.

  Why did I have to be the embodiment of the most cliched female lead ever?

  Who even wrote this? The author clearly hates me!

  Of course, no answer came from the heavens, but I was sure that if I tried hard enough, I could get some kind of answer by yelling at a random tree or a bird or something.

  But first, I had to get rid of this embarrassing, nauseating image that was my new self.

  And then, something you’d never expect happened: a mechanical voice greeted me.

  The system... ah, never mind. It was just my alarm clock!

  Fortunately, it was just a dream.

  Unfortunately, I now know what transmigrating into a trash-tier heroine feels like.

  Note to self: read fewer cultivation novels. Or at least stop binge-reading them at 2AM.

  Right after I finish the next one….