If life offered a do-over, what would she choose? She knew in her bones she’d choose the same path, even if the ending shifted like sand.

The question of leaving the Clan Head had tugged at her for years; in the end, walking away was a clean cut, not a careless slip.

To trace how it all frayed into today, you’d have to wind the thread back through dust and years.

Back then, she wasn’t a Witch yet.

Afternoon light spilled like warm silk across the grass. Specks of sun slipped through leaf-gaps, colliding with shade, painting dappled coins on the earth.

Hoo— She breathed out, a tide easing from shore. Then she lifted her head to the target pinned to the tree, eyes kindling like flint catching.

Black hair bound in a ponytail streamed like a banner in wind. A white training gi hugged a young body still green as spring shoots. The cute face wore a too-serious set, the kind of solemn that made you smile—like a little adult playing at weight.

She let her nerves slacken, willow-brows lifting, feet biting the ground. In a snap she left her mark behind. Jaw-dropping, yet real as stone and bark; this girl did have that kind of force.

Crack!

The target on the tree shattered in an instant. No one caught the moment her hand moved. She flowed, feet whispering from branch to branch, and wherever she passed, twigs popped free like rain—force bleeding off her like a halo.

Not a heartbeat of slack in the forest’s weave. Her sole skimmed a trunk’s skin. She drew a few throwing darts, flicked—swish, swish, swish—and every dart kissed a far bull’s-eye beyond layered cover. She twisted in the air, head down, sight full of straw men hung with targets, and she didn’t bother with mercy; the darts fell like a brief shower.

She rolled and landed. Figures poured toward her like a dark tide. A blink later, gunshots cracked the air. She threaded through bullets with the calm of a leaf around stones; her hidden weapons slipped out just right. Each shooter’s suit took a white scar, then the dart rang on gravel.

It didn’t take long to make them yield. Her strength was iron, not rumor.

“Congratulations, miss, you’ve hit this month’s training metrics again.”

The young man who’d led the rush spoke with polite distance, cold as lacquer. She snorted at it.

“Got it. Can I go?”

She had no love for this clan regimen, but after almost ten years, habit sat on her shoulders like a worn coat.

“Of course.”

He knew better than to block her path. The knot in her chest loosened by a thread.

She walked past the heap of them—who knows the nth time she’d wiped the floor with the lot. She could feel the sour set of their faces like vinegar in air. Some from defeat, more from her—resentment aimed like pins.

They were the same brand of face no matter where she met them.

Training was done anyway. Leave them to stew, Four Pupils Yun Shi thought, drifting like smoke.

The Four Pupils Clan carried old bones—no, all seven Clan Heads did. To outsiders, a birth inside those halls was blessing, a kiss from fate. Yun Shi didn’t buy it.

In the Clan Head’s house your rank sat high and your medals shone, but the load on your back weighed heavier, and your sweat fell thicker.

As blood kin, Four Pupils Yun Shi had no excuse not to win honor for her clan. She had to get stronger for them. She knew the climb was steep, and still she climbed. From birth the script was inked; she had no right to refuse.

Back at the main house, Yun Shi gathered clothes. A round of training left her sticky as syrup; she wanted the bath’s steam to unspool the day’s knots.

The baths were vast; the Four Pupils Clan did nothing halfway. Best of all, it was an open-air onsen, steam rising into night—classic island style. She’d soaked here for years; her bones knew the stones.

Men and women had their own sides, a panel between. Yun Shi, of course, took the women’s. She had long ordered that no extra attendants come in when she bathed. As the clan’s young lady, her word was law; the maids also figured she didn’t like people in her space, so no one was foolish enough to barge in.

The truth was otherwise.

Could she say it was because she didn’t dare see girls laid bare, skin to air?

Her sweat-wet gi peeled to the tiles with a soft hiss. Cloth whispered. Underthings followed like fallen leaves.

Bare as a newborn, Yun Shi stood in steam. Snow-pale skin kissed cool air; her heat-shadow blurred and cleared in the mist. Warm water cupped her like a lake’s hands.

She breathed, slow as a tide, and scrubbed with unhurried care. Comfort lapped in waves; a small sound slipped from her throat before she could catch it.

No matter how many times, only in the bath did true ease find her. This hour was the day’s one soft shore.

She dipped a ladle and let a sheet of water fall over her crown. Sight smeared to watercolor, then gathered sharp again. She sat on the pool’s edge and worked through her hair.

Habit, maybe—Yun Shi loved bathing. Twice a day felt normal as sunrise.

It wasn’t because of memories from a past life, not exactly. Even when she’d been a boy, he’d had a streak of clean-freak, gleaming neat among the guys. Now, in a girl’s body, it was worse; a day without washing felt like ants under skin.

Yes. That’s right. Yun Shi wasn’t entirely a girl—she still carried a boy’s memories.

“Didn’t notice it happening, but I’ve gotten used to it…”

Frustration pricked as she eyed her pale, delicate hands. She sighed, fingers combing suds through hair.

By now, her own body felt normal; nothing felt strange anymore. What was there to say? A normal man—once—had become this. Where was the justice in that?

Once, she’d been a guy. More than that—a regular college student in China. He had parents and a home; only a car and a wife were missing from the set. He wasn’t bitter. Ordinary tasted sweet enough. With family and friends, who could call that unhappy?

Then the universe punked him—reborn, transmigrated, and into a girl’s skin, of all things.

After her first wails, they gave her the name “Four Pupils Yun Shi,” a name that screamed genre flag to anyone like her.

Growing up, the pieces clicked. This wasn’t some webnovel otherworld, but a parallel run to her old Earth. Here, the stage belonged to those with power, locked in shadow wars across the Underworld.

Four Pupils Yun Shi belonged to one of that Underworld’s three great powers, blood kin of the Four Pupils Clan under the Clan Head.

It sounded badass on a scroll. She didn’t feel that way. Truth be told, she’d rather live out an ordinary life than this gilded maze.

After her bath, she dug out clean clothes. She wasn’t fussy; grooming ranked low unless the event demanded it. Day to day, she didn’t care.

So she threw on simple loungewear—sleeveless tank and shorts—no trace of a clan princess.

“Ehh! Miss, why are you dressed like that again? Not cute at all!”

The moment she stepped out, a girl about her age trotted over, voice bright with disapproval.

“Yo, Mia.”

Yun Shi towel-dried her hair, breezing by.

“Please wait, miss!”

Mia darted in front to block her, arms spread like a gate.

“Don’t fuss, Mia. I’m going to blow-dry.”

“T-Then… let me do it! I’ll blow it dry and help comb it, okay?”

“…Fine.”

Mia handled Yun Shi’s day-to-day like hair and combs, so Yun Shi let it be.

Back in Yun Shi’s room, Mia lifted the dryer with practiced hands. Black hair, glossy as ink, streamed in warm wind. A faint fragrance rose, tickling the air.

Serving a girl like this felt like luck to Mia. When she took the post, she’d worried about a spoiled princess. Turned out she’d worried for nothing.

“Miss, your hair is so nice. I’m jealous~”

“Uh… it’s okay.”

“But you’re really pretty. Look, your hair’s great without care, your skin too—and you don’t even use skincare. It’s not fair, my heart’s not balanced~”

“M-Maybe…”

“Why won’t a perfect miss like you dress up a bit? You’re a girl, but you don’t like dressing pretty. So weird~”

Yun Shi had no reply to that. Not liking makeup was baked in. With a boy’s memories stacked for years, how could she switch to a girl’s world overnight?

It needed time. That was all Yun Shi could say.

“Mia.”

“What is it, miss?”

Mia paused the dryer, smiling soft as a lamp. They were the same age, but in some ways, Mia took care of Yun Shi more.

“Do I… seem like a girl to you?”

The question had gnawed without answer since the day she became one. With a boy’s memories beating in her chest, did she count as a normal girl at all?

She didn’t know.

In the fog, who would point the way?

“Of course you do. Miss is a cute girl~”

“Mm. Right.”

No one could answer her. She’d known that from the start, and still—

It hurt anyway.

Which name fit her soul? In the end, no one could say.

“All done. That’s it for today, Mia. I’m heading out.”

Hair finished, Yun Shi moved to leave.

“Wait, miss—where are you going?”

“I’m going for a walk.”

“Hey, miss, stay and hang out a bit…”

Yun Shi didn’t bite. She walked straight for the door. Mia hurried to catch and tug her sleeve.

“Mia, let go.”

“No. Friends get to be clingy, right~”

“Idiot—I don’t have friends.”

Yun Shi sprang like a rabbit, clearing Mia with ease. Years of drills had tuned her body past anything Mia could match, and she slipped free like water.

Watching her vanish, Mia could only sigh.

“Come to think of it, the young master’s supposed to be back today…”

Yun Shi walked alone in cold wind. It was late; there was nowhere to be but the night, so she wandered with her shadow.

Tonight’s moon was thin, not full. The sight irked her, a tiny stone in her shoe. Walking alone without a round moon couldn’t soak her mood right.

Yun Shi did have a taste for melancholy.

“Yo. What are you doing out at night?”

A voice, familiar as a heartbeat, cut the dark. Yun Shi spun on her heel.

A black-haired boy stood before her, smiling gentle. Warmth glowed in his eyes like a hearth.

Shock flared, then cooled. Her face settled into practiced impatience.

Even if her heart held a garden of thorns for most, a few were different—the few she let see her real sky.

“You’re back, you dumb big brother.”