Transform?
The white serpent stared blankly at the eager faces of Xu Ling and Yang Mu, unable to comprehend why it needed to hurry into human form.
Crawling was perfectly comfortable—why change? Eating discarded pills and sneaking lessons on Zuowang Peak was a perfectly good life.
Ignoring the two lunatics, it turned to leave.
“Hey—Bai Yu Jun! If you transform, Master will let the three of us go on a journey! The outside world is so much fun!”
Xu Ling’s tone was enthusiastic, but the serpent remained unmoved. Fun?
The outside world was full of bandits and self-proclaimed “heroes” who slaughtered demons for alchemy ingredients.
A little snake spirit like itself would end up in a traveling circus before long.
Yes, strictly speaking, the serpent wasn’t yet a true demon—snake spirit was the more accurate term.
“Bai Yu Jun, don’t go~”
The serpent slithered away swiftly. Xu Ling was the least reliable, and even Yang Mu had been infected with her nonsense.
Then Yang Mu spoke.
“They say Chang’an is the most prosperous city, filled with foreigners from the Western Regions. Suzhou in Jiangnan is a hub of culture, where poetry gatherings produce stunning talents. Why not… go see for yourself?”
The serpent paused.
After a long moment of contemplation, it nodded. Visiting the most glorious city of the ancient world didn’t sound bad.
Yang Mu’s lips curled slightly before he turned and strode away, his cool demeanor intact. Xu Ling watched him with undisguised admiration.
…………
Having decided to transform, the serpent found a cave halfway up Clear Void Peak’s back mountain. It brought along a few sets of old clothes—just in case—and declared it a “secluded retreat.”
In truth, no one could enter anyway. The cave’s narrow, winding entrance stretched dozens of meters before opening into a spacious chamber. Transforming wasn’t a life-or-death matter—just a minor inconvenience.
Shapeshifting wasn’t illusion magic.
Illusions manipulated energy to create false appearances—easily broken with the right methods.
Take the famous ghost story Painted Skin, where an ugly demon disguised itself as a beauty to seduce scholars. Or ghosts assuming lovely forms to lure men. Even untransformed spirits used illusions to deceive.
(Though why they all targeted scholars was a mystery)
A splash of black dog’s blood would reveal their true forms.
True transformation was different—permanent, unshakable by tricks.
Following its bloodline and soul’s instinct, the serpent reconfigured its bones, flesh, and scales.
This was primal, like a beast’s hunting instincts.
The first transformation was agonizingly slow, as if every bone were shattered and reassembled.
The serpent estimated days to complete the process.
(Rumor had it that subsequent shifts would be swift and painless.)
For the first few days, the serpent lay motionless in the cave, its cells and skeleton adapting to the change. Only then did the true transformation begin. Find the original chapter at g.com.
Glowing minerals on the stalactites cast a faint light as the twelve-meter serpent shrank, its body developing human contours—broadening shoulders, a defined waist, the curve of hips.
Scales melted into smooth skin, the tail split into legs, and limbs sprouted from its sides…
This was still far from human—just a serpentine outline with human features.
Gradually, the scales became flawless skin. The serpent, now kneeling on half-formed legs, clenched its eyes shut, focusing.
Its face remained featureless except for closed eyes and a serpent’s mouth. Instinct guided the formation of human features.
Black hair burst from its scalp, growing rapidly until it cascaded to the waist.
Over time, hands and feet formed, nails replacing claws.
Struggling to stand on unsteady legs, the serpent instinctively tried to hiss—but no sound came out. Now, its facial features had fully taken shape…
With the final adjustments complete, its eyes snapped open—still slitted pupils. A blink, and they shifted to human irises.
Standing felt unnatural. The urge to crawl was overwhelming. The serpent forced itself to recall bipedal movement, gradually finding balance.
Life was miraculous, brimming with possibilities.
What seemed a minor shapeshift for a lowly spirit was, in truth, a testament to nature’s wonder.
Arms lifted awkwardly, fingers flexing as the serpent relearned its long-lost human sensations…
…………
Yet something felt off.
With no mirror in the cave, the serpent decided to return to Clear Void Palace for a look.
Honestly, it didn’t care about appearances. After 65 years as a cold-blooded reptile, what did looks matter?
Even a half-human monstrosity would be fine. It could always live out its days in the wilderness.
Clothes were a problem. Thankfully, the cave provided privacy.
The loose, ill-fitting garments it had prepared hung awkwardly, the shoes too big.
(Had its feet shrunk?)
After days of effort, humanity had been reclaimed—yet the serpent felt no particular excitement.
Changing back was easier. With a leap, bones and skin rippled, reverting to serpent form. It snatched the clothes in its jaws and slithered out.
Upon returning to Clear Void Palace, it found Yu Rong and the disciples meditating.
One more shift—this time, donning the clothes mid-transformation—and it stood human once more, hastily slipping on shoes. (Note to self: Craft magical robes later.)
Strangely, it seemed… shorter than expected, about Xu Ling’s height.
The three cultivators stared in shock. Yang Mu’s sword clattered to the ground, forgotten.
“Such a thorough transformation,” Yu Rong murmured.
“Needs better styling…” Xu Ling critiqued.
“So… beautiful.” Yang Mu managed only three words.
The serpent glanced down.
…Why was its chest so pronounced?
“You haven’t seen yourself yet?” Yu Rong asked.
A nod. No mirrors in caves.
“My study has a bronze mirror. Go look.”
In a flash, the serpent reverted and slithered off, returning moments later in human form. Then—it froze.
The mirror reflected a girl.
Fifteen years old, petite, draped in white robes.
Raven hair cascaded like silk, framing a face of unearthly beauty—delicate brows, phoenix eyes, a nose with a slight upturn. No coyness, no allure—just an icy, celestial grace.
A hand lifted, and the mirror’s fairy mimicked the motion. Slender fingers, jade-like skin—this was no half-formed monster, but a flawless immortal maiden.
The serpent blinked.
Ah. Right.
Those courting dances in the Ten Thousand Mountains should’ve been a clue. It had always been female. Nature had simply taken its course.
After 65 years, gender was irrelevant. The serpent felt no discomfort, no turmoil—just acceptance.
A calm settled over it.
Outside, rain poured in sheets, the dampness making the serpent yearn for sunlight.
Returning to the hall, it found the three cultivators no longer meditating, but seated inside.
Xu Ling bounced over, examining the transformed serpent with childlike curiosity.
(Were the scales hidden under the skin?)
Yu Rong frowned at the ill-fitting robes.
“Those clothes don’t suit you.”
She produced a set of enchanted garments, adding a few spells before handing them over.
The serpent changed into the new robes, then adjusted them instinctively.
The fabric shifted, becoming a flowing white hanfu.
A strip of cloth tied back the waist-length hair, keeping it from tickling its face.