Chapter One: Transmigration to a World of Devaluation!

“Jiang Xian, don’t pay any attention to online comments. After all, life is about taking chances. The brave get to enjoy the world first—think about it: if you make it through alive, you’ll be a hundred-yuan household.”
Was that the latest joke of the year?
A hundred-yuan household? Did that mean a millionaire?
“But if you don’t make it, that’s alright too. I’ll burn you a one-yuan note in tribute—consider it a token of our working relationship.”
At these words, Jiang Xian finally realized the agent was trying to amuse her with some dark humor.
She retorted, “How about I give you a hundred and skip this show?”
She had just been reborn and had no desire to throw her life away again.
Who could understand her misery—winning the lottery only to suddenly drop dead? The memories she’d received from the body’s original owner told her all she needed: a fake heiress in the Jiang family, obsessed with handsome men, entered showbiz for their sake, flirting and chasing rumors every day. As a result, both celebrities and their fans resented her, keeping their distance for fear of association.
But in truth, when Tang Qionghua was pregnant with Jiang Ke, a fortune-teller had warned her: Jiang Ke was born under an unlucky star, and couldn’t be raised in the Jiang family. She must be sent away, and another child adopted in her place to absorb the misfortune, only to return at twenty-three.
Because Jiang Xian was there to shield their true daughter, the Jiangs barely cared for her, letting her grow wild and reckless. So when she saw the torrent of online abuse, she simply dropped dead on the spot.
“Jiang Xian, haven’t you realized who you are now? You’re no longer the Jiang family’s pampered daughter, but the fake heiress the whole internet wants to boot from showbiz. You’re talking big—one hundred? If you could scrape together ten yuan, you wouldn’t have to join this show.”
The agent seemed thoroughly exasperated by Jiang Xian’s words, letting loose a tirade.
Compared to the agent’s agitation, Jiang Xian remained cool. She thought, never mind a hundred, she now had a million!
“How did you know—”
She wanted to say more, but the agent cut her off. “Wake up, Jiang Xian. Drop the attitude. You can’t act like a princess anymore. The penalty fee for breach of contract is enormous—you can’t afford it. Get along with the other guests. If you run into trouble, maybe someone will help you. Anyway, I’ve got work to do. Don’t be late tomorrow.”
With that, the agent hung up, leaving Jiang Xian no chance to respond.
Staring at her abruptly disconnected phone, Jiang Xian collapsed bonelessly onto the couch. She had just been reborn!
From what she’d heard, “Extreme Escape” only invited people desperate for cash or minor celebrities looking for their big break. Contestants had to sign a life-and-death waiver; if anything happened, they’d be solely responsible—the production team bore no liability. Joining a show like that was practically signing your own death warrant.

“Xianxian.”
She suddenly heard someone call her. Sitting up, she saw Tang Qionghua—her mother in this life—watching her with a complicated expression. Beside her stood Jiang Cheng, her brother, looking at her with clear impatience.
“Xianxian, have you made up your mind? Are you really going to join that ‘Extreme Escape’ show?”
Though Jiang Xian wasn’t her biological daughter, after twenty years together, Tang Qionghua still hoped she’d stay safe.
“It’s not like I have a choice. I’d have to pay the penalty if I backed out.”
Knowing Tang Qionghua was still attached to Jiang Xian and might offer to pay the penalty for her, Jiang Cheng quickly interjected, “Since you’ve already decided, don’t go back on it. The penalty isn’t a trivial sum. Even if our Jiang family is rich, we can’t waste money like this—especially since we’re under no obligation to clean up your mess.”
Tang Qionghua frowned at the harshness of his words, unable to stop herself from rebuking him, “Cheng, how could you say that?”
“I’m not wrong. The Jiang family has done more than enough for her all these years. If she’s to blame, it’s for not cherishing what she was given.”
Jiang Xian let out a cold laugh. Such hypocrisy.
“Enough, that’s enough,” Tang Qionghua’s voice turned stern, her anger palpable.
Though she was known as a gentle mother, when she was angry, even the Jiang family patriarch, Jiang Tao, would tread carefully.
Jiang Cheng dared not speak further, only glaring at Jiang Xian.
She ignored his glare. He had never liked the original Jiang Xian, always feeling she’d stolen his real sister’s life and their parents’ attention.
“Xianxian, whatever happens, you’ve taken on misfortune for Xiao Ke. This is your mother’s way of thanking you. From now on, you’re on your own.”
With that, Tang Qionghua pressed some money into Jiang Xian’s hand.
She felt the paper, looked down, and saw two one-yuan notes. Her brow furrowed—she felt insulted yet again.
Seriously? Two yuan? Enough for a red bean bun, or a few packets of cheap spicy sticks?
Thinking of the “hundred-yuan household” and the one-yuan tribute the agent had mentioned, she felt increasingly uneasy.

“What, not enough for you?” Jiang Cheng saw her just staring at the two yuan in her palm, no doubt dissatisfied. The Jiang couple had spoiled her rotten, always at odds with him and disgracing the family. He’d long disliked her—for all he cared, she should have been thrown out after her first scandal if she weren’t still marginally useful.
“Keep your money. I’ve got plenty. I’m going to my room,” Jiang Xian said, stuffing the cash back into Tang Qionghua’s hand before hurrying upstairs and slamming her door.
“Mom, you shouldn’t have given her that money. She’s just spoiled,” Jiang Cheng muttered.
Tang Qionghua sighed. “I still have some feelings for her. Who knows if she’ll survive that show? Consider those two yuan my last gesture as her mother.”
Back in her room, Jiang Xian grabbed her phone.
After a crash course online, she learned that the currency here was nothing like her old world’s. One yuan here was equivalent to ten thousand in her old world; a hundred yuan was—she checked her bank balance—her money had crossed over with her.
Laughter like rolling thunder filled the room.
She was rich, truly rich this time! All her daydreams flashed before her eyes—surrounded by eighteen male models, traveling the world, living in a grand estate with dozens of servants and bodyguards. She couldn’t help but grin from ear to ear.
Wait, there was one thing she had to do first. The agent had said the penalty was ten yuan. She’d been given a second chance at life—no way would she risk it again.
She was about to call the agent when—
[Hello, host.]
For a few seconds she was certain she must be dreaming. Otherwise, how could she hear the voice of that legendary system?
With a system, everything would come with strings attached. Pretending not to hear it, she continued dialing.
She was destined to live as a wealthy woman—she wouldn’t let any system stand in her way.