Chapter 1: I Am Truly Cute!

“I am truly cute!”

Bai Linlin stood in a pure white cubic space.

She looked down.

The first thing she saw was a lock of hair dangling down to her chest.

The color was very light, white like freshly fallen snow, with unnatural slight curls at the ends.

“This hair quality… pretty good?”

She pushed the thought back as soon as it popped up.

The focus seemed wrong.

She slowly raised her hand.

Her fingers were slender, her skin fair enough to see the faint blue veins underneath, her nails a healthy light pink, round and small.

This was definitely not him.

Her hand slid down along her body’s curves, over her neck, stopping at her chest.

She pressed a little.

Soft.

Not large, but indeed soft, with an elastic feel.

She froze, retracting her hand as if burned, but couldn’t help touching lightly again to confirm.

“…”

Her mind was a bit chaotic.

She subconsciously wanted to touch her face, but halfway through raising her hand, she felt an inexplicable shame at the action.

Finally, her fingers hesitantly touched her cheek.

The skin was smooth and delicate, the chin’s arc small, the lips… they felt soft too.

Her height was all wrong.

Her line of sight was much lower, making the angle of viewing this white space seem a bit childish.

She tried jumping a little, her body feeling light and floaty; estimating, maybe… not even 1.4 meters?

“What is this…”

An utterly absurd conclusion formed in her chaotic mind.

“Turned into a white-haired little brat?”

Before the shockwave from this realization could fully ripple out, a semi-transparent blue panel popped up without warning right in the center of her vision.

The panel’s edges flickered with an ominous red glow.

[Countdown 00:59]

[About to enter the death game]

Below were a few lines of small text:

[Name: Bai Linlin]

[Age: Unknown]

[Height: 1m37]

[Overall Combat Power: 5]

[Evaluation: Besides being cute, good for nothing!]

[Current Game Count: Unknown]

Bai Linlin stared at the panel, blinking.

Blinking again.

“Ha?”

She finally found her voice, though it was crisp and childish, utterly lacking in presence.

“What is this? Death game?!”

The countdown numbers on the panel jumped coldly: 00:58, 00:57…

“Overall combat power 5?! This panel must be broken!”

She pointed at that line, shouting into the empty white space.

“You expect a 1.37-meter-tall midget with a combat power of only five to enter some death game? This is obviously a death sentence!”

“And this evaluation! ‘Besides being cute, good for nothing’—what’s that supposed to mean! This is a personal attack! I want to complain!”

The countdown remained unmoved, steadfastly marching toward the end.

00:05, 00:04, 00:03…

Bai Linlin’s voice grew smaller, turning into a mumble: “…At least the ‘cute’ part is objective.”

00:01.

00:00.

An irresistible wave of dizziness suddenly seized her.

The pure white space spun, twisted, and melted into darkness.

Touch was the first sense to return.

Beneath her was a hard, somewhat rough fabric texture.

Like a coarse linen sheet.

The air carried a faint scent of aged wood, mixed with a hint of sweet aroma like baked bread.

Bai Linlin opened her eyes.

What came into view was a low ceiling with wooden grains, a rough beam spanning across it.

Light streamed in from a small wooden window nearby, revealing fine dust particles floating in the air.

She was lying on a small wooden bed, covered by a plain thin blanket.

Propping herself up to sit, she looked down at herself.

She was wearing a white strap-style nightgown dress, the fabric soft but the style simple to the point of being crude.

The skirt hem reached just above her knees, exposing two thin, white legs.

Barefoot, she stepped onto the cold floor, the wood’s texture pressing against her soles.

At that moment, the familiar semi-transparent blue panel popped up again, claiming the prime spot in her vision.

[Welcome to the death game.]

[Current role: Little Red Riding Hood.]

Several new task descriptions emerged:

[Current stage task: Complete Mother’s instructions, head to Grandma’s house in the forest, and deliver the cake and wine.]

[Final goal: Kill the Big Bad Wolf.]

[Task failure penalty: Death.]

[Clear reward: Little Red Riding Hood’s Basket (special item, automatically refreshes one cake and one bottle of water every 24 hours).]

The panel flickered once, slowly fading but not vanishing completely—it could be summoned at will with a thought.

Bai Linlin stared at the words “Little Red Riding Hood” and “Kill the Big Bad Wolf,” silent for a full ten seconds.

“…”

“Me? Little Red Riding Hood?”

She lifted her thin arms, waving them weakly in the air without stirring even a breeze.

“You want someone like me—a pitiful, powerless, combat-power-five little kid—to go kill a big bad wolf?”

She imagined the scene.

A fluffy, drooling, green-eyed beast that might stand taller than her current height, facing off against her in this nightgown, a 1.37-meter bean sprout.

Then the big bad wolf pounces.

The outcome didn’t need imagining.

“This game’s balance got eaten by a dog or what!”

She couldn’t help venting at the air.

“Where’s the newbie protection period? The starting god-tier weapon? Even if there’s no dragon-slaying blade, a slingshot would do!”

Complaints aside, the words “Task failure penalty: Death” on the panel glowed a piercing red.

She sighed, her shoulders slumping.

Things had come to this; just standing around cursing wouldn’t help.

Based on her years of gaming experience (though now she was the game character herself), the first step was usually…

She surveyed the room.

It was very small: besides the bed, an old small wardrobe, a wooden table, and a chair, there was almost nothing else.

An empty wooden bowl sat on the table.

Bai Linlin walked over to the only wardrobe.

The door wasn’t fully closed, leaving a slight gap.

She extended her small hand, gripping the cold wooden handle, and pulled hard.

The old hinges let out a groan.

There wasn’t much inside.

A few folded plain coarse cloth garments in drab gray tones.

But the most eye-catching was a cloak hanging there.

Bright red.

The color as vivid as if dyed with the most intense sunset.

Hooded style, with a soft, slightly darker trim around the hood’s edge.

The fabric looked thick and warm.

Without a doubt, this was that famous “red velvet cap,” or rather, Little Red Riding Hood’s iconic attire.

Bai Linlin took the red cloak out.

It was lighter than she’d imagined.

Clumsily (mainly due to unfamiliarity with this body and the garment), she draped the cloak over her nightgown and tied the neck strings.

Then, she walked to the room’s only somewhat blurry copper mirror.

The mirror reflected a small figure.

White long hair scattered messily over her shoulders and the red cloak, the tips curling up.

The red hood sat on her head, making the small face beneath it appear even paler.

Her eyes were large, pupils light-colored, gaze a bit dazed, lips slightly parted.

The white nightgown’s collar peeked out a little from the red cloak, and below the skirt were slender ankles and small bare feet.

The whole image indeed matched the “adorable little girl everyone loves” from fairy tale illustrations.

Facing the mirror, Bai Linlin raised her hand and poked her cheek.

The little girl in the mirror did the same.

She made a funny face.

The girl in the mirror stuck out her tongue.

“…Okay.”

She lowered her hand, speaking resignedly to her reflection.

“Pretty cute.”

“I am truly cute!”

She declared in an exaggerated, dramatic tone, trying to psych herself up.

But paired with this childish voice and appearance, it only came off as more comical and feeble.

Just then, a gentle female voice came from outside the door.

“Little Red Riding Hood? Are you up? It’s time to set off.”

It was “Mother’s” voice.

Following the fairy tale’s flow, next would be Mother’s instructions, then receiving the cake and wine, and heading out on the path to Grandma’s house in the forest.

Bai Linlin took a deep breath, then slowly exhaled.

In the mirror, the little girl in the red cloak had her eyes’ confusion and silliness gradually fade away.

Though still full of childishness, there was something else now.

Resignation, and the determination to push forward no matter what.

“Coming.”