Mei Lian had always believed she was born under an unlucky star.
The type of girl who'd miss her bus and drop her coffee and step in gum—all before breakfast.
But apparently, the universe had decided to outdo itself today.
It started when she bumped into an old woman on her way home from work—literally. Mei Lian was half-jogging through the crowded night market, dodging between food stalls and motorbikes, when her bag strap caught on something. She spun, tripped, and nearly headbutted a tiny wrinkled grandma.
"Oh my god, I'm so sorry!" Mei Lian scrambled to steady her. "I swear, I'm not usually this clumsy—okay, that's a lie, I am, but still!"
The old woman just smiled, her cloudy eyes oddly sharp. "You look like someone who's lost something important."
Mei Lian blinked. "Uh. Yeah. My dignity, mostly."
The woman chuckled, rummaged in her sleeve, and pulled out a small velvet box. "Then take this. It might help you find what you've lost."
Inside was a ring. Simple gold, set with a strange red-blue gem that shimmered like fire trapped in ice.
"Whoa. Pretty." Mei Lian tilted it toward the streetlight. "You're just giving this away? Is this cursed? Please tell me it's not cursed."
The old woman just patted her hand. "Fate gives what it must."
Before Mei Lian could ask what that meant, someone's scooter zoomed past, splashing water. When she looked back—the old woman was gone.
She glanced at the empty air, then down at the ring. "Okay… that's not creepy at all."
She slipped the box into her pocket. "If I wake up tomorrow possessed, I'm haunting that grandma back."
Back in her tiny apartment, Mei Lian changed into pajamas, grabbed instant noodles, and collapsed on her couch.
On the TV, a melodramatic voice-over boomed:
"Previously, on—Death by My Cold Dragon Husband!"
Mei Lian groaned but hit play anyway. It was her guilty pleasure: an over-the-top fantasy drama where a human princess was forced to marry a dragon king, only to fall in love while plotting his murder.
She'd found it hilarious. Until she got too invested.
"Ugh, why are you crying again, girl?" Mei muttered, slurping noodles. "He insulted your entire family five minutes ago."
But when the male lead appeared—tall, regal, eyes like molten gold—she sighed. "Okay, fine, he's hot. But still toxic. 11/10 red flag."
The Dragon King, Long Xuan, stood on screen in all his icy glory, glaring at his wife as flames danced around him.
"You dared betray me, Lin Lian?"
"Oh, here we go again." Mei Lian pointed her chopsticks at the TV. "Just talk about your feelings, you emotionally constipated lizard!"
The dramatic music swelled. The ring in her pocket began to hum.
Mei froze. "...Wait. What was that?"
The gem glowed faintly—red and blue, pulsing in rhythm with the background music.
Her noodle cup slipped from her hand. "No way. No, no, no—don't you dare be syncing with the soundtrack!"
But it was. Every time the Dragon King raised his hand, fire sparking in anger, the ring glowed brighter.
"Okay," she said shakily, "either my apartment's haunted, or this is the world's weirdest Bluetooth connection."
On screen, Long Xuan turned to his kneeling wife, fury in his eyes.
"You will pay for your treachery."
The ring burned hot against her leg.
"Whoa—hot—ouch!" She pulled it out, shaking her fingers. "Stop doing that!"
The gem's colors twisted faster, swirling like a tiny storm.
Then—without thinking—she picked it up.
Big mistake.
Light exploded from the screen.
Her living room shuddered, noodles flew, her cat hissed and vanished under the couch. Mei Lian tried to throw the ring away, but it was stuck to her finger, burning brighter and brighter until she couldn't see anything at all.
"Hey! Somebody pause the episode!" she yelled. "Or call tech support for reality!"
A whoosh of wind hit her. Then—silence.
When she opened her eyes, the TV was gone.
The couch, the noodles, her entire apartment—gone.
Instead, she was kneeling on cold, gleaming marble.
Torchlight flickered across towering stone pillars carved with dragons, their eyes glowing faint gold. The air smelled faintly of smoke and magic.
And right in front of her…
The Dragon King himself.
Exactly as he looked on screen—only realer. Taller. Scarier. And way, way more intimidating.
He sat on a throne of obsidian and fire, draped in black robes embroidered with silver scales. His golden eyes burned straight into her soul.
Around them, armored guards knelt on one knee. At the center of the hall, a woman in crimson robes—who looked exactly like Mei Lian—was chained to the floor, trembling.
Mei blinked.
Then blinked again.
Then whispered, "Oh my god. I'm inside Death by My Cold Dragon Husband."
No one answered.
"...This has got to be a dream. Or food poisoning."
On the throne, Long Xuan's voice rolled through the hall. "You dare raise your hand against me again, Lin Lian?"
Lin Lian.
Mei's heart stopped.
Wait—wasn't that… the name of the evil wife in the drama? The one who tried to poison him? The one about to be executed this very scene?
"Uh, hi, I think there's been some mistake—" she started.
But before she could finish, the chained woman screamed as light exploded around her—then vanished.
Pain ripped through Mei's body. She gasped, clutching her chest as crimson silk replaced her pajamas. Her hair spilled down in waves heavy with jeweled pins.
She looked down.
She was wearing the wife's outfit.
Her reflection shimmered faintly in the marble floor—same face, same body—but somehow different. Softer. Sharper. Regal.
"Oh, no," she whispered. "I've been body-snatched by a TV character."
Long Xuan stood, his shadow falling over her. "So," he said coldly, "you dare appear before me after your betrayal?"
"Uh… hi?" Mei offered a weak wave. "Nice… throne you've got there."
The hall went silent.
Guards exchanged nervous glances.
Mei's smile trembled. "You know what, I think I'll just—go back through the screen, yeah? Enjoy your royal tantrum, bye!"
She spun—tried to run—tripped over her robe, and crashed to the floor face-first.
A collective gasp echoed through the court.
The Dragon King descended the steps slowly, each footstep echoing like thunder.
"Still as clumsy as your lies," he said.
"I'm not lying! I swear! I'm not even supposed to be here!" she blurted, half-panicked. "I was just watching Netflix—I mean, uh, divine visions!"
He froze. "Net… what?"
"Never mind!" She flailed. "Just… I think you've got the wrong girl. Big misunderstanding!"
His golden gaze burned hotter, as if trying to peel away her soul.
"You feel… different," he murmured. "What trick is this?"
Mei gulped. "It's called anxiety!"
Before she could say more, he grabbed her wrist.
The heat of his skin nearly made her flinch—it was like touching living fire. He leaned closer, eyes narrowing, as if testing something.
She tried not to stare back, but wow, he really did have perfect cheekbones.
"Oh great," she muttered. "Even your pores are flawless. Are dragons genetically modified?"
He blinked, clearly not understanding a single word.
Then, slowly, he released her hand. "Enough. Guards, confine her to her quarters until I decide what to do."
Mei gasped. "Wait—quarters? Like, dungeon quarters or bedroom quarters? Because I have allergies."
The king's face stayed utterly expressionless. "You talk too much."
"That's accurate," she admitted.