SBCEJM -Chapter 97 An Immersive Experience of Being a Woman? If This Blessing Were Yours, Would You Want It?!

Feng Zexuan spent 20,000 gossip points upgrading the system.

At that moment, she was sprawled comfortably across her bed, a virtual screen visible only to her floating in front of her eyes.

She tore open a bag of chips with a crisp crunch, ready to enjoy the show.

“【First stop: Vice Minister of War Zhao Yong’s residence.】”

“【Script: Farm Girl Da Ya. Officially launching.】”

“System, connect me to Old Dog Zhao’s first-person view. High-definition uncensored version.”

Feng Zexuan stuffed a chip into her mouth, chewing noisily.

“【…Host, this system does not provide uncensored services.】”

“Tch. Boring.”

…

The night was dark as ink.

At the residence of Vice Minister of War Zhao Yong, the candlelight in the study had only just gone out.

Lying in bed, Zhao Yong tossed and turned restlessly.

Today in court, he and eleven other officials had jointly impeached the Northern King. He had thought victory was certain.

Who would’ve guessed the Emperor would simply wave it off with a casual, “I already knew,” and let the matter pass?

And on top of that, that woman had publicly exposed his humiliating “pig-fighting coward” incident.

It was utter disgrace!

The more he thought about it, the angrier he became, until a metallic sweetness rose in his throat.

Just as frustration consumed him, a violent wave of dizziness struck.

It felt as though an invisible giant hand had seized him and dragged him into a bottomless abyss.

His body plummeted rapidly downward.

“AHHH—!”

When he opened his eyes again—

The carved beams, luxurious curtains, and brocade blankets were gone.

In their place stood cracked mud walls.

Above him was a sparse thatched roof, through whose gaps he could even see several bleak stars.

A thick stench of mildew mixed with sour sweat assaulted his senses.

“Urgh…”

His stomach churned violently. The smell nearly made him vomit on the spot.

Where was this?

What poor relative’s broken shack was this?!

He tried to move.

Only to discover himself trapped inside a tiny, emaciated body.

Looking down—

A pair of little hands covered in dark red chilblains and calluses entered his sight.

These weren’t his hands!

His own hands were well-maintained, slender-fingered hands fit for holding a brush to govern the realm and stroking his beard while discussing history!

“You dead girl! The sun’s already up and you’re still lying there like a corpse?!”

A shrill female voice exploded beside his ears, making them ring.

“Even pigs get up earlier than you! Hurry up and get your ass out there to feed the pigs and start the fire!”

BANG!

The crude wooden door was kicked open.

A large, burly woman stormed in, her face full of viciousness.

The moment she saw the girl “playing dead” on the kang bed, her fury intensified.

A rough hand the size of a fan shot out and grabbed his hair.

“AHHH!”

It felt like his scalp was about to be ripped clean off. The pain pierced straight to his bones.

Zhao Yong was yanked off the freezing clay bed like a dead dog being dragged away.

He—Zhao Yong! A second-rank official! The dignified Vice Minister of War!

When had he ever suffered such humiliation?!

Raging fire burned through his chest.

He opened his mouth, ready to unleash the most vicious insults he had mastered in his lifetime and curse this shrew to hell—

But what emerged from his throat was only a weak, mosquito-like sob.

“Mother… I’m getting up…”

Buzz!

A flood of memories that did not belong to him crashed violently into his mind like a burst dam.

The short, bleak life of a peasant girl named Da Ya.

Born into a family that valued sons over daughters, she was the eldest daughter—and the least wanted child.

From the moment she could remember, her world had consisted only of endless labor, the worst food, patched-up clothes, and fists and kicks whenever she made the slightest mistake.

He, Zhao Yong, had been trapped inside this girl’s body.

He could think, see, and feel every bit of pain and humiliation.

But he alone could not control this body in the slightest.

Like a spectator locked inside a transparent cage, he could only watch helplessly as “he” lived through scene after maddening scene of tragedy.

“【Yo, Lord Zhao’s really getting immersed in the experience, huh?】”

Feng Zexuan munched on chips, her eyes curved into crescents from smiling.

“【System, zoom in on his face for me. I wanna see what expression he’s making right now.】”

“【As you command, Host.】”

On the screen, another twisted, savage face surfaced atop Da Ya’s sallow little face.

It was Zhao Yong’s soul.

His expression was filled with terror, fury, and a trace of incomprehensible confusion.

Meanwhile, Da Ya herself still wore that numb, resigned expression.

Silently, she climbed up, put on the thin shirt layered with patch upon patch, and began another endless day of labor like a soulless puppet.

Feeding pigs.

The smell of rotten swill in the pigsty was even worse than a latrine.

Chopping firewood.

The chipped axe numbed “his” hands with every swing.

Fetching water.

The shoulder pole nearly crushed “his” spine. The wooden buckets rubbed against the already thin flesh on “his” shoulders until they scraped directly against bone, every dull ache crystal clear.

Zhao Yong, a man who had studied military strategy and debated state affairs in court, could now only watch helplessly.

By midmorning—

The three so-called “little brothers” yawned as they finally crawled out of bed.

They swaggered to the table and waited for breakfast to be served.

After eating, they wiped their mouths, patted their backsides, and wandered off in groups to fool around.

And “he”…

Zhao Yong watched helplessly as Da Ya picked up her own bowl.

Inside was coarse black bread hard enough to chip teeth and watery rice soup so thin it reflected faces.

Yet in her brothers’ bowls sat fluffy white rice and golden scrambled eggs.

Zhao Yong’s soul roared in outrage!

Unfair!

Utterly outrageous!

But Da Ya merely silently transferred the few grains of rice from her own bowl into the youngest brother’s.

“【Host, Vice Minister Zhao’s mental threshold is dropping rapidly.】” the system reported dutifully.

“【This is only the beginning. The real show hasn’t even started yet.】”

Feng Zexuan sneered and shifted into a more comfortable position.

“【System, next one! Don’t let the others sit idle.】”

“【Rites Ministry Official Zhou—script: Courtesan Du Juan. Queue him up!】”

“【Let him properly experience what it feels like to be treated as a plaything!】”

The screen shifted.

Along the Qinhuai River, aboard a pleasure boat—

Music and dancing filled the air while the smell of alcohol lingered heavily.

Rites Ministry Official Zhou “awoke” amid splitting pain in his head.

He discovered himself dressed in a thin red gauze robe almost transparent as cicada wings, his long black hair pinned high and decorated with jingling jewels.

The air was thick with the cheap, cloying scent of powder.

In the bronze mirror reflected a face painted far too delicately seductive.

This wasn’t him!

Yet somehow, it was him!

“Little Du Juan, what are you spacing out for?”

A bloated, drunken man smelling heavily of alcohol pressed over like a mountain of flesh.

A thick arm wrapped around his waist forcefully.

“Come on, give your lord another kiss!”

An oily face greasy enough to scrape fat from, mixed with foul breath and liquor fumes, came straight toward him.

Official Zhou had always valued propriety above all else. He was obsessed with etiquette and even somewhat of a clean freak.

Yet now, his soul screamed wildly inside Du Juan’s body!

Get away!

Take your filthy hands off me!

Don’t touch me with that disgusting face!

He wanted to shove the man away, curse him out, smash his head against the pleasure boat and die.

And yet—

Du Juan’s body moved like a wind-up puppet.

She skillfully curved her lips into a seductive smile. Not only did she not push him away, she leaned even closer.

Slender fingers lifted a wine cup and gently brought it to the salt merchant’s lips.

Her red lips parted slightly, her voice sweet enough to drip honey.

“My lord, drink slowly now… don’t choke…”

That overwhelming humiliation and nausea made Official Zhou’s soul tremble violently.

He watched helplessly as that revolting mouth drew closer and closer to “him.”

Closer…

Closer…

He could smell the bits of meat still stuck between the man’s teeth.

He could even see the enlarged pores and blackheads on the man’s face.

“【Bleurgh…】”

The system played a dry-heaving sound effect.

“【Host, this one’s… kind of beyond the syllabus. Official Zhou’s mental contamination index is exploding off the charts.】”

“【Good. If it doesn’t explode, he won’t learn his lesson.】”

Feng Zexuan laughed gleefully.

“【Tsk tsk, Lord Zhou’s flirting glances are more practiced than the palace dancers’.】”

“【Let him enjoy himself properly. After all, in his eyes, women are just toys meant to please men, aren’t they?】”

Her fingertip lightly tapped the screen.

“【Alright, next one—Ministry of Revenue Officer Wang. Script: The Resentful Concubine of the Inner Manor!】”