BambooFirefly

[WSA 2024 Entry]

[The Imperial Consort could have been so much more than what we were shown.]

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Genius Neurosurgeon Lǐ Xīnyuàn died while being held at the gunpoint to perform a surgery on a terrorist leader.

When he opened his eyes, he had transmigrated into a world similar to a Webnovel he'd been forced to read by a colleague.

Now you'd think Lǐ Xīnyuàn had transmigrated into that Webnovel. But did he?

No! Instead he'd been transmigrated into that webnovel's spin-off/"what-if" version of the story with nothing but the superficial knowledge of the plot thanks to reading the main novel.

Now tasked with the mission of avoiding plotholes, unnecessary dog-blood, death and following the storyline to ensure the male lead's ascension to the throne of Supreme Emperor, he didn't know whether to laugh or cry.

And why did no one tell him that his character had to be married into the Male Lead's harem??

What about the Female Lead?

Later:

Lǐ Xīnyuàn: Why doesn't Your Highness spend the night with concubine Yang?

ML: Don't want to.

Lǐ Xīnyuàn: ... Why?

ML: Are you pushing me away?

Lǐ Xīnyuàn: QAQ

Reborn To Be The Imperial Consort [BL]

This is what confused him to no end. This thoughtful gesture, this warm reassurance. The well-built body pressed behind his own.

Wow, Li Xinyuan's mind was turning into a real mess. The hands that cupped his ears were large, their touch searing Li Xinyuan's flesh, yet the surgeon made no move to get out of the Crown Prince's hold.

As he walked forward, eyes snapping shut. Briefly, he wondered if trusting Liu Mingyun to the point where he'd willingly walk into the heart of Smithy, the place that burnt with heat akin to a kiln, was a good idea.

But then he pushed the thought away, eyes moving under his eyelids as he pursed his lips, anxiety brewing in his heart as Liu Mingyun's presence anchored him.

He was going to live only once anyway, so might as well go through with it.

Li Xinyuan could hear nothing, the previously too loud sound of hammers became a muffled dull rhythm, the too bright light became mellow as he closed his eyes.

Budding Lotus — VI