Profile (revised):

Name: Yufan Ling.

In her past life she was male, like a mask fate later peeled away. According to rumor, that was someone's twisted joke, like ink spilled on a scroll. She shrugs; rebirth made her a girl—really, a loli—like spring trimming winter to size. As a newcomer to another world, she got no beloved system and no GM privileges, like opening a chest to find moths. What she did get was freakish strength and a deep well of mana, like iron under silk. The only regret: she can’t sling the truly flashy spells, like fireworks caged in daylight. She fussed over that for a long while, like a cat chasing its tail. In the end she split the difference and started inventing her own flashy magic, like forging blades in a backyard forge.

Also, Ling carries a grand goal, like a banner in a headwind. She plans to ferry her world’s culture into this one; things like JOJO absolutely must be brought over, like seeds tucked in a traveler’s sleeve. Only, this loli seems to have forgotten that goal, like a letter left under a teacup. She still hasn’t started; maybe when adventuring no longer thrills her, and the road dust finally settles, she’ll remember it like an old song at dusk.

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Name: Yufan Lian.

Profile: In theory she’s the same person as Yufan Ling—same soul, same body—like two reflections on one lake. For certain reasons, Yufan Lian shares the body with Yufan Ling, like twin lamps in one lantern. She’s not hung up on names, like a traveler light on luggage. So she handed the name “Yufan Ling” to Ling without hesitation, and took a new one for herself—Yufan Lian—like swapping masks before a play.

For what she loves, she keeps an absolute‑protection rule, like a wall of shields in the rain. For what she hates, she practices absolute rejection, and sometimes destruction, like a cold blade cutting rope.

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Though Yufan Ling and Yufan Lian share one body and one soul, they’re essentially two different people, like two moons sharing one sky. Their temperaments diverged because of different experiences, like branches growing toward different light. Also, Yufan Ling seems to hate being mistaken for Yufan Lian, even though it’s truly hard to tell who’s who, like twins wrapped in the same mist.

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How Yufan Ling responds to a few situations:

① Greeting.

To family: Warmth first, like sunlight through bamboo; she might hug or she might tease, depending on mood, like waves lapping or splashing. To friends: A simple smile, like a lantern quietly lit; sometimes a nod joins it, like a leaf tipping in wind. To strangers: No signal at all, like a closed gate under moonlight.

② Anger.

Toward family: She may make a fuss and “break up” for five minutes, like summer thunder that soon passes; she forgets anger quickly, like dew at noon. Toward friends: Also a “breakup,” because she dislikes showing her heart, like a clam with a tight shell; without a nudge, the grudge can linger, like smoke under a roof. Toward strangers: She serves the Magic Cannon, like lightning from a clear sky.

③ Eating at the same table.

With family: She fights for food, like sparrows pecking the same grain. With friends: It depends on gender; with men she keeps a poised posture, like a crane by a pond; with women she plays as wildly as she wants, like fireflies after dusk. With strangers: It doesn’t happen; unless absolutely necessary, if a stranger sits at her table she simply leaves, like a breeze slipping out the door.

④ Thanks.

To family: She tosses a “Yo~ nice!” like a coin that glints in sun. To friends: She goes, “Mmm… thanks~,” like warm tea after rain. To strangers: “Ah, I’m truly grateful for your help,” like a bow at a roadside shrine; though she rarely needs help from strangers, like a lone wolf on a clear trail.

⑤ Farewell.

To family: She gives a small wave as goodbye, like a willow flicking its branches; then she finishes tasks at top speed and comes back, like an arrow returning to the bow. To friends: She says “See you,” like a bell with a soft ring; if time allows, she’ll visit again, like a swallow returning to the eaves. To strangers: She says “Goodbye” with cool civility, like frost on glass; as for meeting again, it’s basically “let’s do lunch”—code for never, like footprints washed away by the tide.

⑥ “Already thinking about it”—by me, like thoughts circling like swallows at dusk.