“Do I even still have my head?”

I remembered—right before losing consciousness, I’d been staring death in the face. That stunningly beautiful girl, the one who felt like a dream, had pressed the gun barrel firmly against my forehead.

So… am I dead? If not, did she… not pull the trigger?

My limbs tingled with numbness; my head felt heavy and foggy. With immense effort, I slowly opened my eyes.

To my shock, I was staring at the ceiling I knew best. Cracked but spotless—thanks to my weekend cleaning routine. Bathed in Saturday’s crisp morning light, my tiny, tidy room felt strangely warm.

Yes. This was home. I was alive—I’d made it back!

“This is amazing! Being alive feels so… wait, huh?”

The moment the words left my mouth, something felt wrong. The voice echoing in my ears was soft, gentle, and utterly cute—a little girl’s voice.

I’d studied physics. I knew bone conduction usually gave my own voice a polished, premium-audio-card kind of warmth.

But no sound card on earth could turn a teenage boy’s voice into this soft, sweet, doll-like chirp!

My throat must be damaged, I thought. After all, that vampire-like beauty had bitten my neck hard. But when I touched it… double strangeness hit me.

My fingers felt a slender, silky-smooth neck. Meanwhile, my neck sensed hands that were soft, delicate… and tiny.

“What’s going on?!”

Panicked, I groped the wall to stand, stumbled into the bathroom, and faced the mirror—the only one in my apartment. One glance, and I froze.

A doll-like silver-haired little girl stared back. Neat bangs, cherry lips, ruby-red eyes, skin pale as porcelain.

But far more critical—she was barely four feet tall. Maybe even shorter. The kind who rides the bus for free.

And the crushing truth? I was seeing *myself* in the mirror. Directly.

“Why did I turn into this?!”

No matter how sweet the voice, it couldn’t hide the despair clawing inside me.

I was a proud young man—a future pillar of society, a guy built for responsibility! How could I suddenly…

Become a little girl?!

“Quiet.”

A beautiful young woman opened my bedroom door. Her cold eyes flicked toward me. “Keep it down.”

“…Oh.”

Her tone carried such authority I obeyed without thinking. Only seconds later did it click.

“Wait—you’re the one who saved me from that vampire last night,” I glanced past her, “and you’ve been sleeping in *my* room…”

“Did you expect me to sleep on the sofa?” she said impatiently.

So *that’s* why I woke up sore—just a night on that ancient, rock-hard sofa. Not injuries. Not trauma. Just… bad furniture.

“I… I recall you said your name is An Li,” I tiptoed back to the sofa, voice hushed. “Could you tell me what happened? Why am I like this now?”

The sofa didn’t matter. *This* body did.

“Hold on,” An Li closed the door. “Let me change and wash up.”

Minutes later, she emerged from the bathroom in a short shirt and yesterday’s shorts. My first impression held true—she was the most breathtaking woman I’d ever seen.

And dressed like *that*… I couldn’t meet her eyes. I stared at my own feet instead.

Hmm. These dainty little feet, soft as fresh snow, smooth as polished jade… Actually, *those* weren’t exactly comfortable to look at either.

So I tilted my head and focused on the crack beneath my front door. “Miss An Li,” I began carefully, “first—thank you. For saving me.”

Memory fuzzy or not, I owed her my life. And since I was asking for help… politeness mattered.

“No problem. Duty,” An Li said, a faint, unreadable smile playing on her lips. “Besides—if not for the unexpected incident, I’d have executed you myself.”

I gave a weak, awkward chuckle. “I’d like to think I had *some* redeeming qualities… Ahem. What was this ‘unexpected incident’?”

“You. Or rather,” her expression turned serious, “your current identity.”

I blinked. “My… identity?”

I’d always been ordinary. Plain. Even poor. Now this stunning woman claimed my identity wasn’t ordinary at all.

Confusion swirled—but beneath it, a tiny spark of curiosity flickered. Who *was* I now? What organization did I belong to?

“It’s a long story.”

An Li scanned the room, pulled a pack of whole-wheat biscuits from under my desk, tore it open, popped one in her mouth. “Complicated. Just sit tight and listen.”

“Okay.” I straightened my back, hands resting neatly on my knees.

Attentive as a grade-schooler in Chinese class.