My name is Wang Shuo.
Before night fell, I was still just an ordinary student hustling through agricultural university, my clothes smelling of the earth from the latest batch of hybrid wheat seedlings in the experimental field.
Returning to our four-person dorm, after a brief wash-up, I collapsed onto the somewhat creaky iron bunk bed.
The phone screen was lit up, showing the Arknights interface.
My sanity was depleted, and I had finished farming today’s materials.
The last thing that lingered in my sight was Shu’s character art: that fragment of “Sui” from Yan, who governs causality and reincarnation, possessing a unique temperament and mysterious majesty.
My fingers unconsciously traced over the screen on her ice-blue eyes that seemed to reflect the cycle of the four seasons.
I was chatting with my roommates about experimental data, game events, and the 8 a.m.
class tomorrow, the conversation drifting in and out.
Fatigue and relaxation intertwined as my consciousness gradually sank into darkness, my last thought being: “Sister Shu’s character is so beautiful, like a piece of art…”
A strange sensation of weightlessness washed over me.
It wasn’t a fall, but rather a feeling of being enveloped and pushed forward by a gentle yet irresistible current, passing through a silent barrier.
The first sense to return was touch.
Beneath me was no longer the familiar dorm sheets, but a slightly cool, hard rock surface with a natural, grainy texture.
The air was damp, smelling of earth and a faint mineral scent, somewhat similar to the smell of soil in the experimental field, yet more primal and fresh.
I struggled to open my eyes, my vision initially blurred.
The light was dim, the sky peering through a crevice diagonally above, casting a hazy grey-blue over the small space.
I braced my arms to sit up, but my body’s balance felt strangely off.
Behind me, it felt as if there were…
some kind of extended, heavy part?
A strong sense of unease rose in my heart.
I looked around.
This was a naturally formed rock cave, its walls rough and covered in damp moss.
The space wasn’t large, but it was enough to hold several people.
Other than the relatively flat rock beneath me, a few irregularly shaped stones were scattered in the corners, and the ground was somewhat damp.
I wanted to see what I looked like now.
My gaze searched and quickly found a low-lying spot a few steps away, where a small pool of clear water had gathered, likely formed by seepage from the rock crevices.
I practically dragged my body toward the puddle, the unfamiliar sense of balance making my movements clumsy.
When my face appeared in that small “mirror,” my breath stopped instantly.
The water’s surface rippled, reflecting a completely unfamiliar face.
Long, creamy-white hair cascaded down like the finest silk satin, the ends fading into a warm beige, with a few strands of cobalt blue highlights skillfully woven in, the transition of colors natural yet unique.
The skin was a cool-toned porcelain white, smooth and flawless.
The most striking feature was the eyes: ice-blue pupils, clear as a high-altitude lake, yet their depths seemed to hold ancient wisdom and tranquility.
The gaze was calm and ripple-less, not empty, but a detachment born of understanding all things, combining a scholar’s intellect with a gentleness derived from the very origin of life.
The bridge of the nose was high and straight, the lip line clearly defined, and the thin lips were now pressed together slightly in shock; this pursed-lip gesture actually exuded a hint of the reliability and softness of a “big sister next door” from my memories.
However, above this beautiful face, on the two sides of the top of the head, there grew a pair of horns that were absolutely not human.
The base of the horns was an elegant light gold, like the first ray of light plated by the morning sun, extending upward smoothly, branching out, their shape elegant and full of a sense of power, and the tips were adorned with dotting, ice-crystal-like bright blue decorations, shimmering and shining, as if frozen with eternal frost and snow, breathtakingly exquisite and magnificent.
I instinctively tilted my head a bit, and in the shaking of the water’s reflection, the outlines of non-human, pointed ears faintly appeared beside my face.
And when I tried to turn around completely, wanting to see clearly the “extra part” that had always interfered with my balance, a jade-white stream of light swept past the edge of my vision from behind.
That was a long tail covered in fine scales, its texture like jade, the scales flowing with a restrained luster under the weak daylight, and the end of the tail extended into a dense and soft beige mane, gently swaying with my movements.
Shu.
I really became Shu.
Not cosplay, not an illusion.
These horns, these ears, this tail, this face…
and that unfamiliar, slowly flowing sense of power within my body, which seemed to faintly resonate with the surrounding earth and water veins, all coldly stated this fact.
My heart pounded violently in my chest, but in contrast to this frantic heartbeat was the unusually clear line of thought in my mind, and a strange, seemingly innate and acute perception of the environment.
The memories and personality of “me”—the agricultural university student—were still there, but they seemed to be wrapped and merged into another larger, more ancient framework of consciousness.
Fragments about “Sui,” fragments of “Shu’s” authority and memory, were like undercurrents deep beneath the water, faintly perceptible but not yet fully surfaced.
Taking several deep breaths of the damp air, my ice-blue eyes looked into the puddle again, and the “she” in the reflection gazed back at me.
The panic in my eyes was gradually replaced by a determined calmness.
Since things have already come to this, panic will not solve any problems.
I (she?
we?) used hands that did not belong to me, but now truly belonged to me, to carefully examine the surroundings.
There were no obvious signs of artificial traces in the cave, nor were there any signs of other creatures’ recent activities; it was temporarily safe.
So, next…
I pushed off the rocks and stood up, this time deliberately trying to adapt to the new center of gravity and that flexible, powerful dragon tail.
The tail swept unconsciously across the ground, leaving a shallow, moist trail.
I adjusted the robes I was wearing, which had also transformed into the style from the game’s official art, adorned with Yan-style patterns.
The fabric was soft and strange, as if it naturally emanated a gentle warmth.
Looking up at the gap in the rocks where sunlight filtered through, a flash of inquiry and determination crossed those ice-blue eyes.
I can’t stay trapped in this cave forever.
I started walking toward the cave entrance, where the airflow was faintly palpable and the light was brighter.
The jade-white dragon tail swayed gently behind me, and the cream-colored mane brushed against the damp rock surfaces.
It’s time to go out and see.
To see what this utterly unfamiliar world is actually like.
Spy-A slower paced novel, but it gets really wholesome later with Mama Shu.