"Dead?"
A sultry voice rang in his ears, laced with surprise and suspicion.
To Su Chen, the words came layered and overlapping — he couldn't make out anything that followed.
His entire being felt trapped in a dream. His eyes cracked open, yet the scene before him refused to come into focus.
Until a certain moment — as if breaching the surface of deep water — everything he heard and saw snapped into clarity.
"...Quite the convincing act..."
The voice came again. Su Chen was somewhat dazed; all he could see was a pair of pale, slender legs, crystalline toes pressing into a crimson carpet.
A delicate fragrance invaded his nostrils. Su Chen couldn't help but frown — the perfume was too obviously artificial. He didn't care for the scent.
Instinctively, he tried to raise a hand to rub his nose, only to realize his wrists were restrained by something. He turned to look — black shackles.
'I'm... not at home...'
He tried to recall, but a searing pain lanced through his skull as a torrent of memories — none of them his — flooded in, jostling for dominance.
A few breaths later, he'd pieced together his situation. His expression turned complicated.
"Little boy..." The sultry voice returned, this time tinged with irritation. "If you can't handle it, just say so. You've completely killed the mood."
Su Chen's expression grew strange. By the time he looked up, she had already turned away. A black-and-red silk nightgown clung to her willowy figure.
Though he hadn't seen her face, an image surfaced unbidden in his mind — a visage of cold, striking beauty.
Jiang He. One of the Mystic Studies instructors at Nanfeng Academy in the middle district.
And himself — he couldn't help but lower his gaze again, the corner of his mouth twitching as a chill brushed between his legs.
'I've been... taken advantage of?'
The original owner of this body hadn't been a student at the academy. He was merely a low-class refugee in Nanfeng City. According to city regulations, he'd soon be sent beyond the walls as cannon fodder. That was why he'd been desperate to get into Nanfeng Academy.
By all rights, his admission should have been impossible.
Fortunately, he'd been born with a handsome face. After much maneuvering, he'd finally secured a sliver of opportunity — and it rested entirely on the woman before him.
As memories churned, his vision blurred again. Faint, mosquito-like characters gradually materialized and arranged themselves in neat rows.
[Host: Su Chen]
[Basic Combat (Mastered — Unequipped)]
'What is this...' Su Chen froze. His heart lurched violently, his face tensing as he fought to suppress any visible reaction.
He swallowed hard, his focus drawn instinctively to the [Basic Combat] skill.
[Basic Combat (Mastered — Unequipped): 64%]
(Note: Accumulated through years of training in his previous life. Once equipped, it will enhance the host's physical capabilities.)
'A gift from my previous life?' Su Chen snapped back to his senses. His current body, while not emaciated, was clearly far inferior to what he'd had before.
But now hardly seemed the time to equip it...
"That helpless, bewildered little look of yours... it's actually quite amusing."
Jiang He spoke again. When Su Chen raised his head once more, she was already reclining on the sofa, one hand propping up her chin, the other holding a wine glass. Crimson liquid swirled ceaselessly within it, her legs shifting against each other in a languid rhythm.
Snap—
She flicked her fingers lightly, and the shackles binding his wrists fell open. Su Chen's arms dropped free, and he stumbled across the carpet. Yet his eyes drifted involuntarily toward the black shackles.
'They say... this Mystic Studies instructor has already stepped into the professional sequence.'
"Come here..." Jiang He beckoned, her red lips parting slightly. Wine slid down her throat, but a thin rivulet escaped the corner of her mouth, tracing a path along her slender neck, following her collarbone, gliding ever downward...
Su Chen hesitated. He had already supplanted the original soul. Though he knew the previous owner's temperament well enough, mimicking it convincingly was another matter entirely. That innate meekness — the inferiority, the timidity — was nearly impossible to fake.
If he got too close, she might notice something off.
Seeing him remain still, the corner of Jiang He's lips curled. Her slender fingers tapped the side table beside the sofa, where a gold-embossed letter sat, its edges traced with black geometric lines.
'An admission recommendation letter!'
The words flashed through Su Chen's mind, accompanied by a yearning he couldn't quite place — though it matched the original's purpose for being here perfectly.
With that letter, he could enter Nanfeng Academy and escape his fate as cannon fodder.
At this point, refusal was no longer an option. Su Chen kept his head bowed, disheveled hair falling across his face, and shuffled forward with feigned reluctance.
"This wine is made from grapes cultivated under Solar Radiance. It can restore a bit of your stamina... Care for a taste?"
Despite her words, Jiang He drained the glass herself in one go, setting it down atop the recommendation letter. Then she arched her upper body forward. The faint stain of pale red wine was unmistakable.
'The glass is empty, so...'
Su Chen's steps faltered — not because he was genuinely shocked, but because the original would have paused here.
"Don't be shy... Come on... Have a taste..." Jiang He couldn't suppress a smile, her voice dripping with temptation.
She loved seeing Su Chen like this — bashful, hesitant, even tinged with bitter defiance. That raw, unpolished quality.
After several encounters with him, she'd grown deeply curious: how could a low-class refugee possess such a rare thing as self-respect? And such a... rigid one at that.
That was precisely what led to tonight.
Had Su Chen rushed over eagerly, she would have lost interest entirely.
"What's wrong? You don't even dare look up?"
Jiang He rose and approached him step by step, extending a slender finger toward his chin.
Su Chen's mind raced, calculating how to replicate the original's bashfulness convincingly.
But in that instant, his body instinctively flinched backward.
The woman had changed course mid-reach. Her hand bypassed his chin entirely, heading somewhere lower.
The reflex carved into his very soul had reacted faster than his thoughts.
Jiang He's hand paused. She waited a beat, but Su Chen didn't offer the reluctant, half-yielding response she expected. Displeasure flickered in her eyes at once.
'The reluctance is there — but where's the yielding?'
Her voice turned cold immediately. "If you're still unwilling, then get out."
Su Chen wavered. Based on his inherited memories, failing to enter the academy would cause certain complications. But right now, what he needed more was time to familiarize himself with everything.
Besides, if it were merely a matter of sleeping with her, he wouldn't have minded.
But this woman was no pushover. The original soul had been perfectly fine — so how had his own soul suddenly taken over?
If she detected anything abnormal about him, he might very well end up dissected.
He said nothing. His gaze had already shifted to the chair nearby, where a set of slightly worn clothes lay.
Seeing him seemingly intent on leaving, Jiang He arched an eyebrow, her tone growing even colder. "In a few months, you'll be assigned to an exploration team. Once you leave the city, you're as good as a corpse."
It sounded like a reminder — or perhaps a threat. But to Su Chen, it felt more like frustrated anger. He continued to ignore her.
As she'd said, refugees like him had some semblance of rights within the city walls. Even someone of Jiang He's status couldn't openly harm him here. But beyond Nanfeng City, he'd be nothing more than expendable fodder.
Amid the rustle of fabric, he finished dressing, still maintaining the original's persona — silent and withdrawn — and reached for the door.
Watching him, Jiang He merely let out a derisive snort. A refugee's pride was like a fat woman's cleavage — utterly meaningless.
Still, she felt a prick of annoyance. She'd expected a thoroughly enjoyable evening and maybe a useful little plaything to boot. Instead...
Just as the thought formed, her vision went black.
Crack!
The sound of glass shattering came from behind her. Su Chen — already on edge — whipped around instantly.
The gravity in his eyes vanished as quickly as it appeared, replaced by shock. Jiang He had crumpled onto the carpet, curled into a ball, low moans of agony escaping her lips.
Shards of the wine glass lay scattered around her, some already cutting into her delicate skin.
'What the...'
Su Chen's brow furrowed deeply.
"Hh... hh..." Jiang He panted in ragged, labored breaths, her body wracked with uncontrollable spasms. Her voice came in broken fragments.
"...Call... emer... emergency... services..."
Emergency services — Nanfeng City's dedicated rapid-response unit. Each dispatch came at no small cost.
Su Chen hesitated briefly, his gaze passing over the sofa behind her, landing on a dark wooden table in the distance. On it rested a small, finely crafted silver bracelet.
He didn't know what had just happened. Perhaps Jiang He was suffering some kind of acute episode. Help her or not?
Before he could decide, a faint clicking sound came from behind him, followed by a shrill voice.
"If I were you, I'd stay right where I am."
He turned around cautiously. Two blurred figures — one tall, one short — filled the doorway, their forms shrouded in what appeared to be a layer of shadow. Under the lamplight, they looked like walking mosaics.
The taller one extended an arm from within the pixelated cloak. Only then did Su Chen realize the "mosaic" was actually a garment.
The tall figure removed it, revealing a powerfully built frame. He fixed Su Chen with a savage glare.
The shorter one was quietly closing the door, his gaze shadowed and venomous. A sharp nose jutted from a narrow, weasel-like face, the corners of his mouth curled into a faint, sinister smile.
"Jiang He..."
His eyes swept past Su Chen with barely a glance before settling on the woman writhing in agony on the floor. His gaze roamed shamelessly over the bare skin she was too pained to bother covering.
"Tsk, tsk..." He clicked his tongue, his meaning ambiguous. Jiang He forced her head up, face ashen, forehead beaded with sweat, fighting through the pain to force words through gritted teeth:
"This is... a private residence. Who... are you? What... do you want?"
"Impressive — as expected of a Mystic Apprentice who survived the Trial of Whispers. Remarkable endurance. Still able to talk even after drinking the Withered Grass Potion..."
The short man spoke in an unhurried drawl as he sauntered forward. His gaze flicked to Su Chen — head bowed, eyes unfocused, seemingly paralyzed with terror. No reaction whatsoever.
He paid him no mind. The boy's file was well-known to him. This was exactly the response you'd expect from a low-class citizen.
But within Su Chen's mind, alarm bells were ringing. His eyes were fixed on a translucent screen invisible to everyone else —
[Discovered Tier-1 Upper Profession — Mystic Apprentice. Complete advancement requirements to assume this profession.]
[Discovered Mystic Apprentice advancement requirement (1) — Trial of Whispers: In complete darkness, draw an inverted cross on your chest in your own blood, listen to the unknown voices, and endure for thirty seconds.]
[Advancement requirement (2): ???]