Tragic Past
The protagonist has experienced extreme loss or a traumatic event in their past. Their past plays a significant role in their current personality, skills, or motivations.
Before the Descent of the Apocalyptic Game:
The world pitied Wang Jiu. Cheated on, divorced, and forced into a remote, backwater county town, she appeared to be the frailest, most miserable woman on earth.
After the Descent of the Apocalyptic Game:
Her ex-husband watched his former wife effortlessly thrash muscular men and annihilate the Boss, acting as the MVP of the entire battlefield. He wasn’t surprised in the least. After all, this was a woman who had silently drafted a plan to murder her husband and dispose of the body. He later learned the murder plan was a fabrication, but the fact that she had seduced his mistresses into betraying him for her was very real.
——Why do you come back to finish this half-cup of wine after the fight?
——To celebrate surviving.
——Then why drink half a cup before drawing your saber?
——In case I don’t return. One should enjoy life to the fullest before death.
As a despised, assault-type guide, Lin Yuan had a fiancé matched to her by the state. Her fiancé came from a distinguished family, was handsome, wealthy, and well-mannered, making him the envy of many.
“Why was such an excellent partner assigned to her? She can’t even pass tea ceremony, and her culinary skills only earned a ‘B’.”
“He’ll get tired of her sooner or later.”
“Exactly, they’re bound to break up.”
Hearing such words often, Lin Yuan also felt that she and Jiang Yangshuo were bound to break up. So, when her fiancé showed up with a gentle and lovely young woman, she didn’t hesitate. She took off her engagement ring and tossed it into the drain right in front of them.
From then on, Lin Yuan lived a free and unrestrained life, like a bird soaring in the sky and a fish leaping in the sea.
Who knew that after a few years of carefree wandering, at a certain royal banquet, her ex-fiancé cornered her, his eyes red, saying he regretted everything these past years and that he was consumed with longing for her.
No, no, no, thank you, please don’t. Lin Yuan, who had grown accustomed to her freedom, didn’t want to return to her old life at all.
Her ex-fiancé’s face turned livid, and he gritted his teeth, “I don’t mind your type, and I can try to tolerate your shortcomings as much as possible. You can’t find a sentinel who will indulge you more than I do.”
“Well, about that, I already have a new sentinel.” To get rid of the entanglement completely, Lin Yuan randomly blurted out a name as a shield. She quickly ran through the images of the sentinels she had met on the battlefield these past few years, and chose the name of a brother with whom she had shared life-and-death situations. She figured that he wouldn’t mind.
“He just happens to be the receptive type, which is perfect for me, and he really likes me. He doesn’t care about any of my flaws.”
As soon as she saw off her distraught ex-fiancé, Lin Yuan turned around and bumped into the man she had just fabricated a story about.
The man who had killed countless enemies on the battlefield and earned extraordinary merits had a faint blush on his handsome face, turned his head away, and whispered, “You… when did you know I liked you?”
Lin Yuan: “…”
In a stormy, rainy night, Banxia takes in a small, battered lizard that crawled into her house through the window. To care for it, she accidentally spends all her savings, nearly leaving herself without breakfast the next morning.
From then on, every morning, she is astonished to find her home spotless and a steaming hot breakfast waiting on the table.
One day, the magical little lizard suddenly disappears. Worried, Banxia ventures into the rain to search for it, only to find a drenched man in a bamboo grove, scales still visible on his ankles.
The man lies in pain among the bamboo leaves, covering his face with pale fingers, his voice low and trembling, “Don’t come near me. Don’t look at me…”
Banxia respects his words and stays by his side, shielding him from the storm all night with her umbrella.
She doesn’t want to see him weep in winter’s cold again. She cannot bear to let him flee, scarred and broken, into a lonely world. In a world where true understanding is rare, without him, no one else could stand by her side.
She returns consumed by hatred, scheming without restraint, using every means to get what she wants – climbing from one man’s bed to the next.
The female lead is neither a saint nor some fiercely independent heroine. Enter at your own risk.
Seven male leads. Not all of them come untouched.