“Miss, please stop hitting—”
“Jiang Lang, Jiang Lang!!”
When Dongfang Xiaobai regained consciousness, he heard a woman’s shrill cries. He felt a surge of pent-up frustration rising from his chest, a sweet taste in his throat, and a fire burning in his stomach, fueling his rage. The figures in his vision gradually sharpened, but before he could see clearly, his hand swung the whip uncontrollably—
“Yinyuan, how dare you betray me!”
Those were Shang Tianhuan’s last words before her death.
…
But the whip ultimately never landed. Dongfang Xiaobai vaguely remembered someone reaching out to catch it—vaguely, because he fainted shortly after.
This situation was a first for him, leaving him puzzled upon waking. He usually only regained consciousness after the original host had died, and those deaths were almost always due to accidents, schemes, or illnesses—all characterized by weakness. For instance, the last time he woke up in the body of a merchant’s son, who had been poisoned by his father’s concubine, he had to lie in bed for a long time after waking… So why was this body, on the brink of death, still lively enough to swing a whip?
He struggled to sit up in bed, finding it easier than expected. Yet the fire still coiled in his stomach, souring his mood and making him want to destroy something. Especially when he saw the layers of crimson gauze curtains hanging around him, he couldn’t help but twitch the corner of his mouth. The good news was that this body’s family background seemed quite impressive. Having traded in the Western Regions before, he knew this kind of gauze material was far from ordinary, let alone embroidered with gold thread.
The bad news was, what kind of grown man would prefer such a color scheme for his curtains? Could he be a sissy? Many unpleasant guesses flashed through his mind. But before he could sort through his thoughts, this body once again slipped out of his control. His hand shot up and tore through the gauze curtains. He looked up in surprise, and as the red gauze drifted down, he saw rows of kneeling figures outside.
Oh ho, could this body belong to a prince? No wonder Dongfang Xiaobai thought so. This was less a room and more a miniature palace. The floor was entirely covered in soft fur imported from the grasslands, yet the furnishings inside were unusually simple. The most prominent feature was a stone table at the center, and beyond it, rows of people kneeling outside the carpeted area.
There were men and women among them, the oldest appearing around forty, the youngest looking like mere children. All knelt on both knees, their backs bent, foreheads pressed to the ground—a full prostration posture. Even Xiaobai, a seasoned veteran who had weathered many storms, couldn’t help but shudder.
Not a single person made a sound, or rather, no one dared to. They had been kneeling for who knew how long, yet their bodies showed no sign of wavering. Although the Yue Dynasty valued martial prowess, and any family with means would have their children practice martial arts—not necessarily to make a name for themselves, but simply to strengthen their bodies—having such a solid martial foundation regardless of age or gender, with steady breaths that made them undetectable… Even though he had just awakened, this was truly a grand display.
He suddenly felt a flicker of anticipation. This start didn’t seem too bad.
Xiaobai got out of bed, relaxing his mind and letting his body lead the way. He wasn’t some demon or ghost—after awakening, he couldn’t inherit the original owner’s past, but every body had its own personality and muscle memory. When seeing familiar people, various pieces of information and emotions would surge up, and he would unconsciously perform certain actions. This state would take at least a year or two to completely fade away, and he called it Corpse-Warmth Residuals.
Moreover, it wasn’t uncommon for people to undergo drastic personality changes after a near-death experience, and—from what he could tell—the original owner was likely a hot-tempered, domineering individual.
Aside from the kneeling people before him, it was also because of the body itself. Ever since waking up, the body had been uncomfortably hot and irritable, though he didn’t know if it was an illness or something else. Judging by these people’s attitudes, this wasn’t a new issue for the original owner. He silently glanced at his small, tender palm. Even an experienced old hand couldn’t suppress this fiery temper, let alone a young child.
Dongfang Xiaobai suddenly had a bold thought: the original owner had probably died from sheer anger.
As he approached, he realized the one kneeling at the front was actually a slender young boy, likely only eleven or twelve years old. In front of him lay a terrifying-looking whip—not a soft whip, but a steel one, covered in sharp, spine-chilling barbs.
The moment he saw him, Xiaobai’s mind automatically conjured a name: Shang Yu.
He was the original owner’s personal attendant and the son of the original owner’s wet nurse. The row of people behind him were all servants who attended to the original owner.
As Xiaobai drew closer, some people had already begun trembling. Upon realizing they were shaking, they tried to control it but only trembled more violently, causing those around them to shake as well. Only the young boy at the front remained still, though sweat dripped incessantly from him.
Xiaobai said calmly, “Why are you kneeling, Shang Yu?”
He thought he sounded calm, but his voice was dark and hoarse, nothing like a normal child’s. The name that slipped from his lips seemed to awaken some of the body’s memories of the boy, and the first emotion that surfaced was actually resentment.
A figure dressed in black, like a shadow guard, immediately leaped down from the rafters. Xiaobai was startled by them but soon realized they were deftly bringing him a soft couch and respectfully offering tea.
He silently accepted it and took a sip, only to realize it was chilled sour plum juice, just disguised in a teacup. The shadow guards then leaped back up to the rafters.
What kind of person was the original owner, anyway?
“This servant knew Yinyuan was acting suspiciously but failed to stop him in time, ultimately leading to disaster. Please punish me, Young Miss—”
Xiaobai spat out the sour plum juice in his mouth and began coughing violently, his lungs seemingly tearing apart. The boy on the ground forgot about his apology and hurriedly stood up to pat his back and help him catch his breath, shouting, “Quick, call Physician Liu!”
His actions angered Xiaobai—or rather, angered the original owner. Xiaobai instinctively threw the teacup at him and roared, “Get out!”
“All of you, get out!”
The boy, accustomed to this, knelt to clean up the fallen cup and used his sleeve to wipe the sour plum juice splashed on Xiaobai’s bare feet. Even after being kicked, he showed no anger, leading the rows of people whose legs had gone numb from kneeling to exit in an orderly manner.
Even after scolding the servants away, Dongfang Xiaobai felt it wasn’t enough. Pointing at the rafters, he roared, “You lot, get out too! Are you trying to watch me make a fool of myself?”
Perhaps already accustomed to the original owner’s unreasonable tantrums, the hidden guards immediately darted out in front of him. Xiaobai knew these people were just finding another corner to hide—likely still crouching on the roof, keeping an eye on him—but that wasn’t a big issue. Because he had shouted everyone out for only one reason—he reached down and felt around.
They thought Xiaobai was angry at Yinyuan, but what Xiaobai cared about was the phrase “young lady.”
The child’s thin undergarments were already light and sheer. He collapsed to the ground in despair—nothing, nothing, nothing!
It wasn’t a case of a man disguised as a woman—there was truly nothing there!
This time, he had actually awakened in the body of a little girl!
…
Don’t blame Dongfang Xiaobai for being so shocked. He could no longer remember who he originally was, only knowing that every time he died, he would awaken in a recently deceased body—and without exception, these bodies had all been male.
What was so strange about that? He was a man, after all. So why had it suddenly—he gasped—this was truly unexpected, making it hard for him to accept. He had never imagined that one day he would awaken in the body of a little girl. Xiaobai paced restlessly around the room, and then he caught sight of a crystal mirror.
It was actually the legendary crystal mirror. Crystal was already rare, and although later the Baozhu Trading Company somehow managed to produce it steadily, crystal remained a luxury only the nobility and aristocracy could afford. Ordinary noblewomen would be overjoyed to own a palm-sized crystal mirror, treasuring it as a precious dowry item. Yet before him was one as large as a millstone—a testament to the wealth and status of this body.
Through the crystal mirror, Xiaobai saw a little girl frowning with an unhappy expression. Though only about seven or eight years old, she already possessed a bright and dazzling beauty. Her loose, black hair was slightly wavy, her lively emerald eyes surpassing the finest jadeite, her skin as white as porcelain, her cheeks rosy, and her body adorably plump.
Even when unhappy, she looked like she was pouting. She appeared very healthy, likely due to some Western ancestry, as she was taller than the average child. Combined with features more defined than those of typical Central Plains people, Xiaobai tried grabbing a handful of her fluffy, smooth black hair and pursed his lips.
This way, he could still look like a handsome young lad—though that was pure self-deception.
The Yue Dynasty valued martial prowess, with numerous sects and prominent families flourishing in the martial world. Since heroes needed to eat and find lodging while traveling, the status of merchants also rose accordingly. However, this did not include women. Although some women established their own households and engaged in business, and there were many famous female heroes in the martial world—some even joining the Six Gates to become female constables—he had never heard of any martial alliance leader being a woman!
Not to mention, female constables could only remain female constables—he had never heard of any female constable serving in the Dali Temple!
No matter what body, no matter what identity, Dongfang Xiaobai had always strived toward the position of martial alliance leader. Even as a lowly disciple doing menial tasks, he never neglected his training, dreaming of becoming a hero who would shake the martial world. Of course, it would be even better if he could have a few beautiful companions along the way.
But now, forget about having a confidante—since ancient times, which female knight has ever been elected as a righteous faction leader? Even in the relatively liberal Yue Dynasty, it was like this, and the previous dynasty was even worse. I heard that women in the previous dynasty had to bind their feet, and female knights with big feet couldn’t even get married.
Moreover, the original owner seemed to be a young lady from a wealthy family. At this age, she still hadn’t cultivated internal energy, so she probably wasn’t from a martial arts family. In the end, the fate awaiting her was marriage. Dongfang Xiaobai, a man of iron will and unwavering integrity, how could he submit to a man and live a life of raising children, being virtuous and gentle, while expanding the other’s harem?
For all these reasons, he simply couldn’t understand it. He felt that his glorious path had been stillborn from the very beginning. He might as well just hang himself—die early and be reborn early. The girl in the mirror also twisted her expression, her eyes reddening. The fire inside him seemed to burn even fiercer. In his anger, he punched the cabinet door beside him.
With a loud crash, the cabinet, as tall as two young girls, was shattered by his punch. Xiaobai was utterly shocked because he saw the metal and stone materials hidden beneath the wooden surface of the cabinet.
A child who hadn’t even cultivated internal energy had actually punched through a specially reinforced cabinet. In a daze, he understood why, despite the original owner’s family not lacking money, the furnishings in the room were so simple, and the most prominent table was even made of stone.
No matter how wealthy you are, you can’t withstand a hot-tempered child with a fiery disposition tearing the house apart.
Author’s Note: Once again, I want to emphasize that this story features a male-to-female gender transformation, and the protagonist will not change back! To strive for authenticity, I specifically interviewed many men, so there will be reasonable romantic subplots, but there won’t be a marriage ending. The main story’s ending is relatively open-ended, and any additional content will likely be in the extras.
Also, the dynasty setting is fictional. Some organizations with familiar names appear partly because I’m too lazy to come up with names, and partly because I referenced some historical elements. I even drew a huge, densely detailed map listing the provinces, prefectures, states, and sect distributions, so rest assured—I’m an experienced driver, super steady.
I know the gender transformation genre is niche, and many longtime readers say it’s not about whether it’s well-written or not—it’s that they absolutely won’t read it. So, I know this book will flop so hard even my mom won’t recognize it. Therefore, I’m already mentally prepared. Dear readers, please don’t force yourselves. If you can’t handle it, don’t push it, and don’t scold me later on, okay? QwQ