Transmigration
Jiang Wan’s consciousness was forcibly dragged back.
One moment, she had been clutching her younger sister’s missing-person flyers and crying in a rain-filled puddle. The next, she was standing in the middle of a remote wilderness.
The air smelled of damp soil and decaying leaves. In the distance came the sound of blades clashing.
“Mind-reading ability activated.”
A cold, mechanical voice suddenly echoed in her mind.
Jiang Wan had no time to think. The screams ahead were getting closer and closer, impossible to ignore. Crouching low, she pushed through the bushes to investigate and saw four men dressed in black surrounding a young man and hacking at him.
The young man was covered in blood. His left arm hung limply at his side, obviously dislocated. Yet his eyes remained dark and grim as he gritted his teeth and stubbornly held a broken blade in his right hand. The leader of the men in black raised his sword, preparing to slash at his leg.
Jiang Wan thought that her three years in the university martial arts club had not been for nothing. She might not have been an expert, but ambushing a few men whose attention was entirely focused on their target?
That was more than manageable.
She charged out from the side, kicked the nearest man in black to the ground, seized his weapon, and slammed the hilt into the second man’s wrist. With her other hand, she grabbed the young man by the collar and dragged him backward.
“Run!”
The young man staggered and nearly fell.
“Who are—”
“Less talking. Run!”
Jiang Wan dragged him into the dense forest. Angry shouts and curses followed from behind. She kicked over a bundle of firewood by the roadside—probably chopped and stacked there by a woodcutter during the day.
The logs rolled everywhere, followed by the dull sound of their pursuers tripping and falling.
Taking advantage of the opportunity, she turned into a streambed, stepping on the stones to cross over. After taking countless twists and turns, she finally heard the shouting behind them growing more distant.
Faintly, she could still hear the men in black yelling:
“Split up and search! He’s injured—he can’t have gone far!”
Jiang Wan gritted her teeth and dragged the young man into an even denser patch of bushes. They lowered themselves and lay flat against the muddy ground.
She covered the young man’s mouth with her hand and forced her own breathing to become as quiet as possible.
Footsteps passed only a few feet away.
The snapping of dead branches was so close that it sounded as though it were happening beside her ear.
After what felt like the time it took to burn a stick of incense, the surroundings finally fell silent.
Jiang Wan dragged the young man out of the bushes. She braced her hands on her knees and panted for a long time before tossing him beneath a large tree.
The young man immediately passed out.
Jiang Wan crouched down to examine him.
He had four or five sword wounds all over his body. The deepest was on his shoulder, the flesh split open, and blood had already soaked through more than half of his clothes.
At least his face was handsome.
Unfortunately, he was as pale as a sheet of paper.
Jiang Wan frowned and sighed.
She had not even found her biological sister yet, and now she had picked up a troublesome burden.
Half dragging and half supporting him, she searched along the foot of the mountain for somewhere to rest. After walking for about fifteen minutes, she spotted a ruined temple.
Calling it a temple was being generous. It was little more than half a mud wall with a crooked roof. Half of the clay Buddha statue had collapsed, and the incense table had broken in two.
Still, it was better than sleeping in the open.
She laid the young man on a pile of straw, tore off part of her sleeve to use as bandages, and roughly dressed his wounds to stop the bleeding. The wound on his shoulder was the deepest, and she had to press on it for a long time before the bleeding finally stopped.
Her hands were covered in sticky blood.
The young man frowned in pain even while unconscious, but he did not wake up.
After finishing the bandaging, she went outside to gather dry firewood and wild fruit.
Wild fruit was not difficult to find in the mountains. Several crooked trees were covered with red and yellow fruit. She picked an armful and returned with a bundle of dry branches.
She lit a fire, roasted the fruit, and waited for the man to wake up.
The flames crackled.
Jiang Wan stared at the fire. She did not realize she had burned one of the fruits until it was already blackened.
As she turned it over, her thoughts drifted uncontrollably back to what had happened before she transmigrated into this novel.
At that time, she had been in another city.
Her younger sister, Jiang Nian, had been missing for three years.
Three years ago, fifteen-year-old Jiang Nian disappeared on her way home from school. The surveillance footage had captured only a blurry figure from behind.
Their parents quit their jobs and searched across half of China.
They put up missing-person notices.
They went on television.
They begged the police to investigate.
Yet after three years, there was still no news.
Then came the car accident.
Her parents had been driving to a neighboring province to follow another lead when a large truck traveling in the wrong direction crashed into them on the highway.
They died at the scene.
Jiang Wan had been studying for her final exams in the university library when she received the call.
She remembered saying calmly, “I understand.”
Then she hung up and continued studying.
Half an hour later, she realized that she had been staring at the same page the entire time.
Afterward, she took a leave of absence from school.
She handled her parents’ affairs alone, gave up the rented apartment, slung a backpack over her shoulder, and began following the road her parents had never finished walking.
She continued searching.
City after city.
Town after town.
On utility poles, in bus stations, on school bulletin boards—
she posted missing-person flyers one by one.
The photograph of her sister changed from the bright, smiling graduation photo taken three years ago to rain-soaked, endlessly photocopied pages so blurred that Jiang Nian’s face could barely be seen.
That evening, Jiang Wan had already spent six days in the city.
On the day she was preparing to leave, she received a phone call.
“Are you Jiang Nian’s family? I saw her at the East City bus station the day before yesterday. She was much thinner, but I’m certain it was your sister. Send me five hundred yuan for travel expenses, and I’ll take you to her.”
She knew it was most likely a scam.
She had received more than a dozen calls like that already.
But what if?
What if this one was real?
She transferred five hundred yuan from the last eight hundred yuan remaining in her bank account.
The person took the money.
Then blocked her.
After leaving the police station, the officer had given her the same old response:
“We’ll notify you if there’s any news. Go home and wait for now.”
Jiang Wan nodded and thanked him.
She walked through the rain, clutching a thick stack of missing-person flyers that she had not yet posted.
The paper was soaked.
The ink had run.
Her sister’s face had blurred into an unrecognizable smudge.
She had no umbrella.
She had lost it three days earlier.
When she reached an intersection, her foot slipped, and she fell straight into a puddle.
Her knee slammed against the concrete, leaving it numb with pain.
But what hurt even more was her chest.
The stack of missing-person flyers flew from her arms and scattered into the puddle.
The pages floated apart like drowning butterflies.
She lunged toward them and retrieved them one by one.
The water was filthy.
Mud and grit filled the spaces beneath her fingernails.
She gathered the soaked pages into her arms and held them desperately, as though she were clinging to something that could save her life.
The rain was loud.
There was no one on the street.
Occasionally, a car passed by, splashing water over her.
She did not move away.
Finally, she could no longer hold it in.
Clutching the pile of soaked missing-person flyers, she crouched in the puddle and began to cry.
She did not cry quietly.
Instead, she sobbed aloud.
She cried until her entire body shook.
Until no sound came from her throat.
Until she felt completely hollowed out, as though only an empty shell remained.
She had no idea how long she had been crying when, suddenly, a voice sounded beside her.
Instinctively, she ruled out the sound of the rain and the wind.
The voice was speaking directly inside her head.
“Obsession level abnormal. High-intensity emotional fluctuations detected.”
Jiang Wan abruptly looked up.
There was nothing there.
The rain was still falling.
The street remained empty.
“I am the Mirror System,” the voice said emotionlessly, like a synthesized recording. “I require human emotions to complete my evolution. In the process of searching for your sister, you will generate a great deal of emotion—pain, hope, despair, and the joy of reunion. Give those emotions to me, and I will send you to find her.”
Jiang Wan froze for several seconds as rainwater streamed down her face.
“…You want my tears?”
“I want the emotions themselves. If you agree, I will immediately send you to the world where she is and grant you the ability to read minds. You will be able to perceive thoughts, memories, and emotions.”
Jiang Wan did not hesitate.
“Deal.”
She did not care whether her emotions would be taken away.
There was only one thing she cared about.
Finding Jiang Nian.
That was why she was now sitting in this ruined temple, watching over a man of unknown origin, having transmigrated into a completely unfamiliar ancient world—with a mind-reading ability added to her mind.
Another fruit on the fire burned black.
Jiang Wan expressionlessly turned it over.
She wondered whether this deal had been worth it.
The young man moved.
She looked over.
He opened his eyes.
At first, his gaze was unfocused. Then his eyes sharpened as they landed on her.
He looked her up and down, then swept his gaze across the ruined temple, seemingly assessing his situation.
Jiang Wan waited for him to speak first.
He did.
“Who asked you to save me?”
His tone was not loud, but every word was barbed.
Jiang Wan took a bite of the burnt fruit and ignored him.
The young man pushed himself upright, pulling at the wound on his shoulder.
He hissed in pain.
Lowering his head, he looked at the messy strips of cloth wrapped around his body before raising his eyes to look at her again.
“Busybody.”
Jiang Wan swallowed the half-chewed fruit.
“Fine. Want me to send you back now?”
“…”
The young man was left speechless.
He snorted.
“You saved me. What do you want from me? Money? Or are you trying to attach yourself to someone powerful? Although I don’t remember anything, judging by the way those people were acting, my status probably isn’t low.”
“You don’t remember who you are?”
“I have amnesia,” he said righteously. “Is that a problem?”
Jiang Wan found it slightly amusing.
“You’re awfully proud for someone with amnesia.”
The young man’s face darkened for a moment. He turned his head away.
“What exactly do you want?”
“Nothing.”
Jiang Wan turned another piece of fruit. It was starting to burn.
“I just happened to be passing by.”
“Just happened to be passing by?”
He clearly did not believe her and let out a mocking snort.
“You’re a young woman, all alone in the middle of this wilderness?”
Jiang Wan did not answer.
Of course, she had not come here alone.
“What’s your name?” the young man asked again.
“Jiang Wan.”
“Jiang Wan.”
He repeated the name as if committing it to memory.
“I don’t care who you are. Once I recover my memories and regain my identity, don’t regret saving me.”
“Regret what? Are you going to eat me?”
The corner of the young man’s mouth twitched.
He looked down at the wounds covering his body, then at the burnt fruit in her hand.
He fell silent.
As Jiang Wan turned the fruit over the fire, she activated her mind-reading ability and looked directly at him.
She was still unfamiliar with the power.
All she could perceive were fragments flooding into her mind—
images,
sounds,
emotions.
The young man’s surface thoughts were filled with wariness and pain.
But deeper inside, there was a feeling she could not describe.
It was like a half-open door.
And through the narrow gap, light was shining out.
She tried to look deeper.
A dark room.
The damp, moldy smell.
Hands bound behind someone’s back.
Someone was speaking, but she couldn’t make out what they were saying.
The scene shifted.
In the corner was a figure.
Bound.
With long hair hanging down and their face lowered, making it impossible to see clearly.
A girl?
Jiang Wan’s heart suddenly began pounding. She wanted to look further, but the image abruptly cut off.
Her mind-reading ability could only access the strongest memories currently on the surface. It was like reading a book halfway through, only to find the next page pressed firmly shut.
She withdrew her gaze and expressionlessly held out a fruit.
“Want some?”
The young man glanced at the charred fruit.
“You call that food?”
“Then don’t eat it.”
She pulled it back and took a bite herself. The fruit had been roasted too long and was bitter and astringent, but she chewed and swallowed it without changing her expression.
The young man stared at her for two seconds, then held out his hand.
“Give it to me.”
Jiang Wan hesitated before handing him one.
He frowned and chewed a few times, his expression twisting.
But he did not spit it out.
Nor did he say anything.
He simply ate the entire bitter fruit, one bite at a time.
Jiang Wan was distracted. The image of the bound girl she had glimpsed through his mind-reading ability kept replaying in her head.
Was it her sister?
Or was it merely some unrelated person from the young man’s memories?
She clenched the hem of her clothes, but her face revealed nothing.
That was simply the kind of person she was.
No matter how anxious or panicked she became, it rarely showed on her face.
Her parents used to call her a “stuffed gourd”—quiet and impossible to read.
Later, Jiang Nian had praised her, saying she was “scarily emotionally stable.”
But she wasn’t stable.
She was suppressing it.
Suppressing everything for so long that she had almost forgotten what lay buried underneath.
After the young man finished eating, he suddenly spoke.
“Hey.”
“I have a name. It’s not ‘hey.’”
“Jiang Wan.”
He said her name perfunctorily. After a pause, he asked, “Why are you alone in a place like this?”
Jiang Wan thought about it and gave him an answer that was half true and half false.
“I’m looking for my sister.”
“She was kidnapped?”
“Mm.”
“How long has she been missing?”
“Three years.”
Her tone remained flat when she said those two words, but the hand she was using to turn the firewood paused.
For once, the young man did not make a sarcastic remark.
“Then you’ve had it pretty rough.”
Jiang Wan replied, “Thank you for your comforting words.”
“I wasn’t comforting you.”
The young man leaned against the wall and closed his eyes.
“I was simply stating a fact.”
Jiang Wan did not respond.
The fire crackled.
The night wind blew through the cracks in the ruined temple walls, causing the flames to sway wildly. She added several more pieces of wood to the fire. Sparks scattered into the air before falling to the ground and dying out.
They remained silent for a long time.
So long that Jiang Wan thought he had fallen asleep.
Then the young man spoke again.
“I’ll help you.”
Jiang Wan turned her head to look at him.
He did not open his eyes. His voice was calm, as though he were stating something he had already decided.
“You saved me. I owe you. Once I recover my memories and find out who I am, I’ll help you find your sister.”
“You should worry about keeping yourself alive first.”
The young man opened his eyes and looked sideways at her. His dark eyes seemed especially deep under the firelight.
“You don’t believe me?”
“I just think that someone who doesn’t even know who he is saying something like that is no different from making empty promises.”
“…”
The young man fell silent again.
This time, the corner of his mouth seemed to twitch slightly. It was impossible to tell whether he was angry or feeling something else.
Jiang Wan stood and poked the fire, making the flames burn more brightly.
“Get some sleep. We’ll leave tomorrow. First, we need to find somewhere with people and ask around about where you came from.”
“You’ve got everything planned out,” the young man muttered.
“You disagree?”
“No.”
He answered in a muffled voice before adding:
“…Thank you.”
The last two words were spoken very softly, as though they had been forced out through clenched teeth and he was ready to deny them at any moment.
Jiang Wan ignored him. She leaned against the wall on the opposite side and closed her eyes.
But she did not fall asleep.
Her mind was filled with the image she had seen through her mind-reading ability.
If it was her sister…
She did not dare think about it.
And if it wasn’t—
It had been three years. She no longer dared to hold too much hope.
But she had no intention of giving up, either.
The young man’s breathing gradually became steady.
Jiang Wan opened her eyes and looked at him.
In the darkness, she could not clearly see his face, only his silhouette.
She was not sure whether saving him had been the right decision.
But those fragments of memory she had read were the only clue she had so far.
She had to keep him with her.
Or perhaps, somewhere down the road, they would eventually part ways.
Outside the temple, deep within the distant forest, a figure silently stepped out from behind a tree.
Standing in the darkness, the person stared in the direction of the ruined temple for a long time.
Then they turned around.
Like a shadow melting into the night, they disappeared at the end of the narrow path.
A little while later, a strange red light slowly passed across the night sky overhead.
It made no sound.
It was as though something vast and indescribable had opened—and then closed—its eye.
No one noticed.
Inside the ruined temple, the fire continued to burn.
Two people, each carrying their own thoughts, waited for dawn.