I Regained My Memories and Became Rich After Getting Divorced - Chapter 567 - : All Fabricated

Transmigration is the total rage of novels nowadays, and if the main character isn’t careful, they get swept up into the bandwagon, so this is a story from another continent. Magic? —— of course the main character won’t know how to use it, but what about knowing how to use electricity? Dou Qi? —— the main character still doesn’t know, but is inner power more strong? Beautiful women? —— of course the main character has them, or else there wouldn’t be anything worth reading in this novel. How many? —— that question’s quite good, if I told you everything, what would you read for? An honest warning to the female readers and your tastes, it is a harem novel, don’t read it if you’re not interested. A stern warning to male readers and your tastes, um, it’s like a breath of fresh air.

- Description from Novelupdates

Shen Ziqiao woke up from her deep slumber to find herself transmigrated as the character of an ancient novel. To make matters even worse, she was written by the author to be the moronic daughter of the villain, merely a walking cannon fodder.

“Are the Gods punishing me because I left a bad review?!”

Yet it doesn’t end there; she has to strive against a reborn heroine’s revenge! And especially against the major death flag in the plot: getting married to the capital’s fool.

But why does she find this fool’s eyes to be too cunning?

- Description from Novelupdates

I once believed I was the heroine of a modern fairytale, blessed with beauty, wealth, intelligence, and a powerful legacy. Men adored me, women envied me, and I was engaged to the most desirable man, Cole Fay. My life seemed perfect, a dream where I held the starring role. But on my eighteenth birthday, that illusion crumbled. The truth hit me hard: I wasn’t the protagonist, nor even the villain or a side character. I was just cannon fodder, a disposable part of someone else’s story. But when fate recognized the cruel joke of my life, I was granted a second chance. This time, I’ll write my own story, living for myself. And this time . . . I will never love you again.