Transmigrated as The Best Female Character of the Year

Watching Evan Fairchild’s back, Melody Monroe thought she must be dreaming. Evan cooking for her, making her soup... he was pampering her like the heroine of a novel.

Ever since that unexpected encounter with Yasmine Scott, she had been filled with a constant sense of unease. Yasmine was a character who was supposed to appear in the main plot, but she had shown up in this world ahead of schedule.

Given Yasmine Scott’s hatred for the original owner of this body, there was no way she would let things go.

’I wonder if Evan has looked into the original owner’s past. Does he know about her history with the Scott Family?’

’And I don’t know if I should tell Evan the truth—that I’m not the original owner, but a lingering soul from another world.’

’If I told him that, would he think I’m crazy?’

...

The rain continued to fall in a soft drizzle. Melody Monroe and Ian were sitting on the balcony off the study with a small coffee table between them, on which a pot of rose tea was steeping.

Each held a book, reading intently.

When Evan Fairchild finished his work and looked up, he saw the heartwarming scene before him. He stood up and walked over to them.

The once-spacious window seat suddenly felt crowded.

Just as Melody was about to pick Ian up to make some room, an arm wrapped tightly around her waist. A second later, she was pulled into Evan Fairchild’s embrace.

”What are you reading?” Evan asked, holding her from behind.

”Some review materials.” Melody’s face flushed, and she squirmed uncomfortably.

’Ian is right here. Aren’t we being a little too intimate?’

Ian looked up at his parents, then suddenly darted out of the room.

Evan paused, stunned. ’Is the kid finally done being a pain? Does he actually know to give us some privacy?’

But to his surprise, Ian immediately ran back in, holding a small stool. ”Dad, you’re crowding Mom. She doesn’t have any room. You can sit on this little stool!”

Evan was left speechless.

’What a sweet, caring son,’ he thought.

”Your mother fits perfectly on my lap,” Evan said, refusing to budge.

’This little brat dares to make me sit on the sidelines? Is he not afraid I’ll teach him a lesson when his mother isn’t around?’

Melody looked at the two of them. ’On the surface, they look like a loving father and a devoted son, so why does the atmosphere feel so... off?’

Evan reached over and picked up the book Ian had set on the table.

”Come on, son. Dad will read to you. Reading aloud promotes a healthy parent-child relationship. It will surely make you feel my fatherly care and let you bask in the warmth of a spring breeze, even in the middle of late autumn.”

Ian: ...

Evan ignored his son’s pointed look and launched into reading the book.

Ian: ’Mr. Evan Fairchild, the emotionless reading machine.’

Listening to Evan’s deep, magnetic voice, Melody found herself putting down her book to listen intently. A sudden thought struck her. ’Am I a terrible mother?’

’I only knew that Ian had an incredible aptitude for math. And that he was exceptionally bright in other areas, already studying advanced material. But I had no idea he could already understand such advanced literature all by himself!’

Evan, thoroughly enjoying himself, kept reading, completely ignoring his son’s look of disdain.

’’Bask in the warmth of a spring breeze,’ my foot! This is just his way of getting back at me for accusing him of child abuse earlier.’

As Melody listened, her eyelids grew heavier and heavier. Before she knew it, she had leaned back into Evan’s arms and fallen fast asleep.

”Stop reading!” The moment Ian saw his mother was asleep, he cut his father off.