At Huadu Hospital, the faint smell of disinfectant lingered in a well-appointed double room.

Beyond the glass window, the soft evening sun drifted along the horizon, tinting the deep blue sky crimson.

Even the snowy-white clouds were brushed with faint streaks of gold by the setting sun.

Sunlight streamed through the window, spilling its last rays into the room and casting long, narrow bars of shadow across the sleeping beauty in the bed on the right.

Too bright… That was the only thought in Huo Tong’s foggy mind.

She slowly pried her eyelids open, and her vision gradually came into focus.

Where… am I?

Trying to adjust to the sunlight, Huo Tong shifted herself higher in bed.

Once she’d moved out of the light shining on her face, she began to take in her surroundings.

The room’s snow-white walls had taken on a faint yellow tint in the evening glow, and a mild scent of disinfectant hung in the air.

An IV stand sat beside the bed on her left. Across from her, to the right of the window, stood a roughly forty-inch LCD television.

It looked brand-new, though the model seemed rather outdated.

A white hospital blanket covered her. On the bedside table sat a desk calendar, and on the other side was a bouquet of carnations that still looked fresh.

The other bed to her right was screened off by a pale curtain, so she couldn’t see exactly what was on the other side.

A hospital? How did I end up in a hospital? The car accident… Did that really happen?

Huo Tong stared at the bedding, her brows knitting slightly. After thinking it over for a moment, she quickly dismissed the idea.

If a large vehicle going that fast had really hit her, wouldn’t she be wrapped up like a ball in bandages—or reduced to ashes in a little black box?

But apart from feeling weak, she didn’t feel unwell at all. All her limbs were intact, and she didn’t even have a cast on.

It was probably a dream, then. But why was she in a hospital?

Huo Tong muttered to herself, caught for a moment in a strange haze where reality and illusion were hard to tell apart.

The evening light shifted, shining through the open window and falling across her face once more.

She squinted slightly and raised her left hand to block it.

In the light, she noticed that the large, bony hand she remembered was now much smaller and more delicate, its fingers pale and translucent.

“That’s strange…” she murmured. But when the clear, soft voice came out of her mouth, she froze.

Wait?! Th-That was a woman’s voice! Coming back to herself, she hurriedly reached for her neck.

But her right hand tugged on the IV needle, and a sharp, immediate pain shot through it.

“Ouch…” The pain wasn’t the only thing that stopped her. So did that soft, girlish cry—and the hand in front of her.

This… the pain was real. A woman’s hand… My hand?!

Huo Tong stared like an idiot at her arms, pale as lotus roots, but couldn’t find a trace of what they’d looked like before.

She swallowed, closed her eyes, and took a deep breath, doing her best to stay calm. Only then did her small, restless hands drop beside her head.

Then she noticed, to her surprise, that her once-short, Japanese-Korean-style haircut now fell to her shoulders.

She forced her gaze downward, through the slightly disheveled blue-and-white checkered hospital gown.

What she saw was a graceful curve, only just beginning to develop, yet already revealing a glimpse of spring.

“…”

She more or less understood what had happened to her now. Huo Tong tried to stay calm, then cautiously brought her legs together.

The feeling below was empty, just like the feeling in her heart.

F-Fine… It would’ve been even more terrifying if it were still there.

She tried to comfort herself with a little self-delusion. She had no idea what her face looked like, but she suspected it was probably twisted into a Picasso painting.

She shifted up against the headboard and sat upright, letting out a quiet sigh. As she gazed at the play of light and shadow outside the window, time slipped by while she sorted through her thoughts.

The sun sank below the horizon. Night fell over the city, and white lights sprang to life, filling the world beyond the glass.

The lights outside were bright enough to illuminate the room clearly even without turning on the lamps, so long as the curtains were drawn open.

Huo Tong turned her head, looking away from the nightscape of this familiar city. Her sense of disorientation gradually faded.

Yeah. What happened last night was probably all real—not just the drinking, but that bizarre car accident, too…

She was still alive, and there was no way she’d been brought back from the dead… This body probably wasn’t hers.

She’d more or less reached that conclusion, though there was plainly a helpless look in her eyes.

As for why she was sure that “she” had died…

Even an idiot could tell that the bones of this woman’s body were completely different.

What, had they taken her to Thailand after she’d been smashed to pieces and given her a whole new body? Or had she won the lottery and been dragged off for some breakthrough brain-science experiment involving a brain transplant?

Besides, she’d just tested it through her clothes. It was a little small, but when she squeezed it… it really did hurt.

Honestly, for someone who’d taken a college elective in Marxist philosophy, believing she’d borrowed another body after death was harder to swallow than the Third Reich rising again or Japan rewriting its textbooks and apologizing for its invasion of China.

But what could she do, even if it was impossible to believe? Wasn’t one of the basic tenets of Marxist philosophy that matter determines consciousness?

With objective reality already changed beyond recognition, how could she expect her subjective consciousness to deny it?

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” A bitter smile curved her lips.

The fear of dying and the relief of still being alive swirled together in her heart, a jumble of conflicting feelings.

Just then, the hospital room door opened, interrupting her thoughts.

A young nurse pushed a treatment trolley into the room. She switched on the light, saw that Huo Tong was awake, and hurried over.

“You’re awake, sweetie! That’s wonderful! Are you feeling uncomfortable anywhere? Does your body still hurt?”

“N-No, I’m fine.” Huo Tong quickly shook her head. From the nurse’s approximate age and the way she’d addressed her, Huo Tong could roughly guess how old this body was.

She was underage, and judging by how far her secondary sexual characteristics had developed, probably in her early teens. Of course, that was only a rough guess.

“That’s good. I’ll change your medicine, then go get the doctor.”

The young nurse smiled and reached for the IV bottle to change it.

Then she noticed the needle had come out. Putting on a mock-serious expression, she said,

“Why did you pull out your IV needle yourself? It could get red and swollen!”

“I was a little dazed when I first woke up, and I accidentally pulled it out. I’m sorry…” Huo Tong straightened up in bed and apologized.

“Well, you have to be careful! Your skin’s so lovely. It’d be a shame if it left a mark.”

The young nurse let it go, took a bottle of iodine solution from the stand, and sat down beside her bed. “Give me your hand. Big sis will help bring the swelling down.”

“Thank you.” Huo Tong obediently held out her hand. After a moment’s thought, she asked, “Um… what’s today’s date?”

She wasn’t someone who liked to wallow in self-pity. What had happened couldn’t be undone. She could lament it, sure, but there was no point staying trapped in that mood. It was more practical to think about what to do next.

She had no idea how many days she’d been in this body… If she could, she still wanted to visit her own funeral. At least she could see her parents one more time.

“Hmm? It’s September 11th.”