Ninghai City sits on China’s coast, a first-tier metropolis where glass towers gleam like sails along a bright harbor.

Trade flows in like the tide, so global companies nest here like seabirds on warm rocks.

People live well; famous brands glitter like constellations across its skyline.

Ninghai City has a famed enclave of the rich, Jinxiu Garden, a gated grove trimmed like jade.

Those not tucked away in private villas settle here, their lives smooth as lacquered wood.

Inside one lavish villa, two girls were play-fighting, laughter scattering like beads across polished marble.

The short-haired one, Li Muyan, had a nimble, carved face and a figure like flowing curves; mischief flickered between her brows.

She pinned the other to the floor, her hips steady as a cat on a windowsill.

The girl beneath, Ye Yiyi, had long hair fanning like silk on the tile, a small lovely face flushed with shy anger.

Her bright eyes glared like twin stars at the girl holding her down.

Both were among the four campus beauties of Ninghai University, names passed like petals on spring wind.

Their families tied them together since childhood; in those grand houses, life was a pale corridor.

They grew side by side like twin vines, sharing seasons and shade.

"Heh, little miss, gonna listen to your big sis?"

Li Muyan sat on Ye Yiyi’s stomach, pinning her arms, pride curling like a cat’s tail.

"In your dreams. I’m not wearing that. Let go, or I won’t let this drop."

Ye Yiyi’s gaze darted to the sofa, where a pink kitten pajama lay like cotton candy.

It even had little ears and a tail, fake but playful as festival trinkets.

Li Muyan had spotted it while shopping today, a surprise pounce like a street cat.

Ye Yiyi tried to stop her buying it, yet it still slipped home in a shiny bag.

Dinner barely ended when Li wanted Ye to try it on; resistance rose like a small storm.

Ye fought, but ended pinned to the floor; gentleness is soft water, and Li is a Taekwondo black belt.

In a scrap, soft water meets iron; the iron wins.

"Oh? Not done how? Think you can beat me?" Her tone danced like a teasing breeze.

Li caught both wrists in one hand, the other reaching for fabric like a fox pawing at a ribbon.

At home they dressed light; Ye wore a thin camisole dress, a tug away from falling like petals.

She saw those fingers coming and panic fluttered like a trapped bird.

"Stop, stop! If you touch me, I’ll... I’ll skip the Sunday gathering."

Li’s hand halted midair, a blade of pause hanging inches from the dress.

She met Ye’s eyes; Ye met hers, stubborn sparks crackling like flint.

After ten heartbeats, Li bowed to the moment with a sigh.

"Fine. For the party, I’ll spare you. There won’t be a next time." Her smile carried a warning like a sheathed knife.

Li rose and let Ye go. Ye sat up, smoothing her rumpled dress like ripples settling.

She seized a chance, snatched the pink pajama, and sprinted to her room.

The door slammed, then clicked shut, a quick lock like a snapped fan.

Li watched Ye’s fluster and laughed, the sound light as windbells; none of this was new between them.

She strolled to Ye’s door and called through the wood, voice warm as tea:

"Don’t sleep in tomorrow. Up early—we’ve got stuff to do."

From inside came Ye’s defiant reply, a spark popping from the brazier:

"Got it. I’ll be up before you."

Li smiled and headed to the room next door. She didn’t truly live in this villa, but the one across the lane.

Both girls lived alone, so they often stayed together, two lanterns sharing one pool of light.

For Ye, there was one downside: Li bullied her now and then, a playful tiger pawing a soft rabbit.

And Ye could never really beat her.

Back in her room, Ye hid the pajama like contraband sugar.

She took a quick shower, steam folding like silk, then slipped into sleep.

Night fell over the east of Ninghai City, where Red Sun Mountain loomed like a dark altar.

Beside it, a beach lay in shadow, waves breathing like slow beasts.

On the sand, a figure in coarse cloth lay facedown, like flotsam tossed ashore.

"Mm..." A sound leaked out, faint as foam.

Pale fingers twitched, a small motion against the cold sand.

Tang Ke felt awareness trickle back, like light under eyelids; his body existed, but wouldn’t obey.

"What’s going on? Wasn’t I dead? Why can I feel my body?" Thought came like stones breaking water.

"Why do I hear water? Did I really survive?" He stilled his heart, lining thoughts like pebbles.

He seemed to be lying somewhere, strength sucked out like marrow.

He rested a moment, then pried his eyes open; a world of sand filled his gaze like gold grains.

He closed them again, a brief retreat into darkness.

"Looks like I’m not dead. Hurt badly, though; even moving is a battle."

"Why didn’t I burn out? Heaven’s favor? Saw me too handsome to waste and tossed me a second chance?"

He tested his body, small motions threading into control.

He forced himself upright, lifting his head from the sand like a tired swimmer.

First sight: his hand—slender and snow-pale, like scallion shoots in spring.

"Huh? Why are my hands so thin? Did the Anomalous Energy wring me dry?"

The thought shattered when he noticed hair spilling over his shoulder, long as a river, nearly to his waist.

And as he stared at that hair, he also saw his chest, a soft curve under the coarse cloth.

"What... is that?" He reached out, then squeezed, curiosity rash as fire.

"It... it’s really... there... it’s... popped out..."

"Ah!" The cry rang out, a silver bell in the dark.

He clamped a hand over his mouth; the voice was a girl’s, light as rain.

"What’s happening? Even the voice..." His thoughts skittered like crabs.

He crawled to the water’s edge, knees dragging like anchors, and peered into the black mirror.

In the ripples, bright eyes looked back, flecked with pale blue like ice in spring streams.

The features were delicate to the point of perfection, the prettiest he’d ever seen in his life.

Hair fell straight and smooth, and skin glowed like porcelain you fear to touch.

A fairy stared up from the dark water—and Tang Ke did not feel joy.

Shock beat in his chest like a drum.

"How can this be! What the hell—who’s messing with me?" The beach swallowed his curse like salt.

After ten minutes of heavy silence, Tang Ke forced himself calm, thoughts stacking like tiles.

"First, I’m alive. Not just alive—I’m a girl."

"Heaven, you’re playing me. How do I face Xin’er and Yuting? Pervert, right? My comrades too. Pervert."

He laughed at himself, a bitter sound like sand in the teeth.

He lay back, head touching ground, and pain pounced like a stone.

"Ow! What’s so hard?" He turned and saw a watch, dull metal glinting like a small moon.

His pupils tightened; he knew this watch. It was his father’s.

His hands trembled as he lifted it, cradling it like an ember.

"Father... is that you? Did you save me?"

Tears came without permission, falling like warm rain on cold sand.

After a short, ragged cry, he wiped his face, leaving salt trails like faded ink.

"I’ll avenge you. That organization still stands. I’ll kill them myself."

For a moment, the Asura in him stirred; killing intent steamed off him like heat from a blade.

"First, I need to know where I am. Find shelter. And this body..."

"Why did it change like this? And why... this pretty?"

As a former man, she knew exactly how lethal this face would be to men—like a peach blossom in spring, every bee drunk.

Tang Ke stared at his reflection, the water’s girl too alluring, and found himself lost.

Then he remembered the girl was him, sighed, and shook his head, as if shedding petals.

He stood and left the shore, footsteps soft as brushstrokes on sand.