January 20, 2015.
Beijing, Dongcheng District.
2:47 p.m.
The medical leave was official.
One year.
Wang Li had stared at the paperwork for a long time before signing it. The words blurred together "recommended rest, psychological evaluation, unfit for surgical duties" until they stopped meaning anything at all.
One year.
Three hundred and sixty-five days.
She had not taken more than a week off since she was eighteen years old.
And now she had nothing but time.
Time to think.
Time to remember.
Time to be hunted.
She had left her apartment that afternoon for the first time in days.
Not because she wanted to.
Because she couldn't stand the walls anymore.
The apartment had become a prison of silence and shadows. Every reflection seemed to move a fraction too slow. Every buzz of her phone made her heart seize. The Impostor's last message echoed in her skull like a splinter:
"Sleep well, Doctor. I hope so. You'll need your strength for what's coming next."
She needed air.
She needed to walk.
She needed to feel like a person instead of a prey animal waiting for the kill.
So she walked.
THE ALLEY
She found herself in a narrow alley off Nanluoguxiang, one of those ancient hutong lanes that tourists loved to photograph and locals tried to avoid.
The walls were gray brick, old and crumbling. Strings of laundry hung overhead like prayer flags. The smell of frying oil and garbage mingled in the cold air.
It was quiet here.
Almost peaceful.
Wang Li walked slowly, her hands in her coat pockets, her breath fogging in front of her face.
And then she saw it.
The cat.
It was sitting on top of a stack of wooden crates, washing its paw with the lazy precision of an emperor inspecting his subjects.
A small thing. Scruffy. Orange with white patches.
Completely ordinary.
But something about it made Wang Li stop.
The cat looked up.
Their eyes met.
And Wang Li felt something cold slide down her spine.
The cat's eyes were wrong.
Not the color—they were a normal amber, like any stray.
But the intelligence behind them was not normal.
It looked at her the way a surgeon looks at a patient on the table—curious, analytical, slightly detached.
Like it was dissecting her with its gaze.
Wang Li stood frozen.
The cat tilted its head.
And then it moved.
THE IMPOSSIBLE SPEED
It didn't run.
It didn't leap.
It simply... shifted.
One moment it was on the crates. The next moment it was on the wall. Then the roof. Then the street behind her. Then the crates again.
All in less than a second.
Wang Li's mind struggled to process what she was seeing.
The cat was moving faster than anything she had ever witnessed. Faster than a bullet. Faster than lightning. Faster than thought.
And yet—
There was no sound.
No sonic boom.
No rush of displaced air.
No heat.
The physics were impossible.
At speeds like that, the friction alone should have ignited the air. The sound barrier should have shattered. There should have been something.
But there was nothing.
The cat just... moved.
Like the universe had forgotten to apply its own rules.
"What the—"
Wang Li stumbled backward, her shoulder hitting the alley wall.
The cat stopped.
It was sitting on a trash can now, its tail flicking lazily, its eyes fixed on her.
It knew she could see it.
The realization hit her like a physical blow.
It knew.
THE INVISIBLE WORLD
She looked around frantically.
The alley was not empty.
There were people—an old woman sweeping her doorstep, a delivery boy on a bicycle, a young couple taking photos with their phones.
But none of them were reacting to the cat.
They didn't turn their heads.
They didn't flinch.
They didn't even glance in its direction.
It was as if the cat didn't exist to them.
But Wang Li could see it.
She could see it clearly.
And it was still moving—not as fast now, but with a fluid, unnatural grace that made her skin crawl.
Why can I see you? she wanted to scream. Why can I see you when no one else can?
The cat yawned.
It looked almost... bored.
THE CLOSED EYES
Wang Li squeezed her eyes shut.
This isn't real, she told herself. This is exhaustion. This is stress. This is the sleep medication messing with my head.
When I open my eyes, it will be gone.
She counted to ten.
She opened her eyes.
The cat was still there.
But now it was sitting on her shoulder.
She didn't scream.
She should have screamed.
But her body had moved past fear into a kind of numb shock that made everything feel distant and unreal.
The cat weighed nothing.
Its claws were not digging into her coat.
It was just... sitting there. Like a bird on a wire. Like a thought she couldn't shake.
She turned her head slowly.
The cat turned its head too.
Their eyes met.
And Wang Li saw something in those amber depths that made her blood run cold.
Recognition.
The cat knew her.
Not just knew of her.
Knew her.
From somewhere.
From somewhen.
From a life she didn't remember.
THE VISION
The world tilted.
Wang Li felt her knees buckle.
She was falling, falling, falling—
And then she was somewhere else.
A garden.
White marble. Crimson silk. The smell of lotus flowers and incense.
She was sixteen years old.
She was wearing a dress that weighed more than she did.
And her hand was holding someone else's hand.
A boy.
She couldn't see his face, but she could feel his fingers intertwined with hers—warm, calloused, familiar.
He was saying something.
She couldn't hear the words, but she could feel the meaning:
Stay with me.
Always.
Forever.
She was smiling.
She was happy.
She was in love.
And then—
The blade.
It came from behind.
It severed the boy's hand at the wrist.
Blood sprayed across her face, hot and metallic.
She screamed.
She turned.
And she saw him—
The other boy.
The one from her nightmares.
His face was beautiful and terrible, twisted with rage and grief and something that looked almost like love.
"If I can't have you," he said, "then no one will."
The blade came down again.
And again.
And again.
The vision shattered.
Wang Li was on the ground.
The cold stone of the alley pressed against her cheek.
The cat was standing on her chest, staring down at her with those impossible amber eyes.
It looked concerned.
Or maybe that was just her imagination.
Everything was spinning.
Everything was dark.
The last thing she saw before unconsciousness took her was the cat's face, so close to hers that she could count the whiskers.
And then there was nothing.
THE HOSPITAL ROOM
She woke to the smell of antiseptic.
For a moment, she thought she was back at work—that the whole thing had been a nightmare, and she was just exhausted from another double shift.
But then she saw the ceiling.
It was white, but not the familiar white of the surgical wing.
This was a different hospital.
A small one.
And sitting in the chair beside her bed, reading a book with intense concentration, was a girl.
THE GIRL
She looked about fifteen.
Silver-blue hair that fell in soft waves past her shoulders.
Golden eyes that glowed faintly in the dim light.
A face that was too perfect to be entirely human—high cheekbones, delicate features, skin like porcelain.
She was wearing an oversized hoodie and loose cargo pants, and she was sitting with one leg tucked under her, completely absorbed in her book.
The cover read:
"我的师兄实在太稳健了"
"My Senior Brother is Too Steady"
Wang Li stared at her.
The girl didn't look up.
"Finally awake?" she said, her voice casual, almost bored. "You've been out for three hours. The doctors said you just fainted. Dehydration, exhaustion, blah blah blah. They gave you fluids."
She turned a page.
"You should take better care of yourself, you know. It's annoying when people just collapse in the street."
Wang Li blinked.
"Who... are you?"
The girl glanced up from her book.
Her golden eyes were the same color as the cat's.
Exactly the same.
"Who do you think?" the girl asked.
THE SILENCE
Wang Li stared.
The girl stared back.
The beeping of the heart monitor filled the room like a metronome.
Beep. Beep. Beep.
Her heart rate was elevated.
She could see it on the screen.
She could feel it in her chest.
"You're..." Wang Li started.
The girl raised an eyebrow.
"Tell me you're not going to say 'the cat.'"
"You're the cat."
The girl sighed heavily, like a teenager being asked to explain something obvious.
"Yeah. I'm the cat. Congrats. You figured it out. Do you want a prize?"
She turned back to her book.
"Don't make a big deal out of it. It's embarrassing."
THE PRINCESS
Wang Li's mind was reeling.
She was lying in a hospital bed.
She had just been told that the stray cat she saw in the alley was actually a teenage girl with silver-blue hair and golden eyes.
And that girl was currently reading Chinese web novels in the chair next to her bed like it was the most normal thing in the world.
"What... are you?" Wang Li managed.
The girl didn't look up from her book.
"Demon princess."
Wang Li blinked.
"What?"
"Demon princess. My dad's a Demon Lord. My mom's... complicated. I'm from another world. There are portals. It's a whole thing."
She turned another page.
"Before you ask: yes, demons are real. Yes, magic is real. Yes, I could kill you with my pinky finger. No, I'm not going to. You're too interesting."
Wang Li stared at her.
The heart monitor was beeping faster now.
Beep. Beep. Beep.
The girl sighed and closed her book.
"Look, let me explain this simply, because I can see you're going to have a meltdown otherwise."
She leaned forward, her golden eyes locking onto Wang Li's.
"I'm from a different world. My dad rules a demon kingdom. My mom is some kind of ancient dragon or whatever. I came to Earth because I wanted to read Chinese web novels in their original language. I can transform into a cat because it's easier to move around without people noticing."
She shrugged.
"I was doing my whole 'invisible arts' thing—moving at speeds that would vaporize normal matter—because I thought no one could see me. But then you showed up and started staring at me like I was a ghost."
She tilted her head.
"Which is weird, by the way. Normal humans can't see through my invisibility arts. So either you're not normal, or something is seriously wrong with your brain."
She smiled—a sharp, mischievous smile.
"I'm betting on both."
THE QUESTION
Wang Li lay in silence.
Her mind was running through everything she knew about science, medicine, physics, biology—all the things she had spent her life learning.
None of it explained the girl in front of her.
None of it explained the cat.
None of it explained anything.
"You're lying," she said finally.
The girl shrugged.
"Believe what you want. I'm just telling you the truth. You're the one who fainted in an alley after seeing me move."
She picked up her book again.
"Oh, and by the way—you talk in your sleep."
Wang Li's blood went cold.
"What did I say?"
The girl didn't look up.
"A name. I didn't recognize it. But you said it like it hurt."
She turned a page.
"You also said something about a hand being cut off. That was fun. Very dramatic."
THE NAME
Wang Li felt her throat tighten.
"What name?"
The girl glanced at her over the top of the book.
"Qin Su."
The name hit Wang Li like a physical blow.
She didn't know it.
She had never heard it before.
But her body reacted—her heart rate spiking, her palms sweating, her vision blurring at the edges.
Qin Su.
Qin Su.
Qin Su.
It meant something.
She didn't know what.
But it meant something.
"I don't know that name," she whispered.
The girl studied her for a long moment.
"Sure you don't," she said finally. "Anyway, the doctors want to keep you overnight for observation. I told them I was your cousin. So if anyone asks, we're related."
She stood and stretched.
"I'm going to get food. You want anything?"
Wang Li just stared at her.
"Right. I'll get you some congee. You look like a congee person."
She walked toward the door.
Then she paused.
"Oh, and one more thing."
Wang Li looked up.
The girl's golden eyes were serious now, the playful edge gone.
"That thing that's been following you. The one wearing your face. It's not what you think it is."
She paused.
"It's worse."
THE DOOR CLOSED
Wang Li lay in the hospital bed, alone.
The heart monitor beeped steadily.
Beep. Beep. Beep.
Her mind was spinning.
Demon princess.
Chinese web novels.
Invisible arts.
A name that made her body tremble.
And the warning:
"It's worse."
She closed her eyes.
And in the darkness behind her eyelids, she saw the garden again.
The white marble.
The crimson silk.
The severed hand.
And the boy with the beautiful, terrible face.
Qin Su.