She was floating on water—barely.
Her face dipped with each sluggish rise and fall of her body, lips brushing the surface. Water lapped against her cheeks, cool and insistent.
Her eyes opened slowly, lids heavy and resistant. The sky above her was blurry, colors bleeding together into indistinct shapes. Her body felt heavy and sore, muscles aching with a deep, bone-deep exhaustion. She didn't understand why.
Cool water brushed her face and hands, gentle at first.
She tried to take a breath.
Water rushed into her mouth immediately.
Panic exploded in her chest like a flare. Her body sank, weight pulling her down. She kicked without thinking, instinct taking over. Arms thrashed through the water—messy, desperate, completely uncoordinated. Her lungs burned as she forced herself upward, fighting against the drag.
She kicked harder, legs pumping frantically.
Her head broke the surface. She gasped violently, coughing as water streamed down her face, into her eyes, choking her. Her heart hammered against her ribs as she struggled to stay afloat, arms windmilling.
Water surrounded her completely.
Endless in every direction.
She didn't know where she was.
She only knew she had almost drowned.
She kicked again, legs trembling as her strength began to fade rapidly. The water felt endless, pulling at her limbs with invisible hands, dragging her down every time she tried to steady herself. Panic tightened her chest, sharper and more painful than the ache in her body.
Then—
She caught a glimpse of shore through the water streaming down her face.
Land. Solid ground.
She kicked forward immediately, using every ounce of strength she had left. Her arms pulled through the water in clumsy strokes, technique forgotten in favor of pure survival instinct.
Getting out of the water, she collapsed immediately. Her back hit the ground hard, the impact jarring but welcome. She lay there breathing heavily, chest hammering violently. Facing the blue sky stretched endlessly above.
What... what the hell is going on?
The thought came fragmented, confused.
Where... where am I?
Her voice came out low, hoarse from coughing.
"This isn't the program..."
She lay there for several long seconds, trying to make sense of anything. Then finally, she forced herself to look around at her surroundings.
Which only heightened the confusion further.
A garden. Ornate and carefully maintained. Stone pathways winding between flowering plants she didn't recognize. Architecture that looked ancient, traditional, nothing like anything she remembered.
Yun Xiaoyan couldn't wrap her head around what was going on.
And then it hit her.
Memories.
Fragments of memories that weren't hers but somehow belonged to someone else. They slammed into her consciousness without warning, overwhelming and impossible to resist.
The memories felt almost impossible—they showed things straight out of a web novel story she might have read once. Totally unrealistic compared to the urban world she was from.
It took all her strength to stay awake as the pain hit again, sharper this time.
In the memories, she saw the life of a little girl. A world beyond her imagination—a world of cultivation where people could fly through the air, where mystical beasts roamed, where power was measured in impossible terms.
The memories trailed off until the last breath of the thirteen-year-old girl whose body this was.
She just couldn't accept her reality.
I died, right?
The thought came clear and certain.
But now I am in a little girl's body.
Was life playing a joke on her? Because it really wasn't funny.
I mean, I could have gotten a better deal. Why this girl?
First, she had the same name as her—Yun Xiaoyan. And according to the memories flooding her mind, she was her sect's black sheep. To survive, she had to play the role of an idiot. If no one saw her as a threat, they would all leave her alone.
But this was far from reality. She was bullied constantly. Shunned by her family and sect alike.
In a world of cultivation, Yun Xiaoyan had zero talent.
Isn't this just the beginning cliche of every transmigration web novel?
The thought came bitter and frustrated.
The poor girl... she even committed suicide.
Yun Xiaoyan let out a long sigh as she lay back down on the ground, staring up at the sky.
According to these memories, the real Yun Xiaoyan had been depressed.
*Who wouldn't be? Your own family bullied and treated you like trash.*
Yun Xiaoyan, gaining a bit of her strength back, got up slowly. Her limbs shook with the effort. The water she'd almost drowned in was a pond—ornate, with lotus flowers floating on the surface.
Looking around carefully, it looked like she was in some kind of private garden. Everything was meticulously maintained, beautiful in a way that felt expensive.
Everything looks... too perfect, she thought.
"Yun Xiaoyan," she said quietly to the empty air. "I don't know how I am in your body now, but you can rest easy."
Her voice grew firmer.
"I'll make sure everyone who pushed you to the edge pays for it."
Yun Xiaoyan moved out of the garden, heading toward her room—the real Yun Xiaoyan's room. The environment felt simultaneously familiar and unfamiliar as she moved through corridors and pathways. Images from the memories overlaid what she was seeing, creating a disorienting double vision.
Luckily, she didn't meet anyone until she got to her room.
At least the sect had the decency of giving her a good room.
She stepped inside and immediately landed on the bed, exhaustion crashing over her.
The door slammed open with a loud bang.
Yun Xiaoyan raised her head, tilting it toward the entrance.
"I told you the fool would be here, sister." A voice came from the doorway, young but dripping with contempt. "The idiot probably ran here to cry."
Two figures stood in the entrance, both strikingly good-looking. They looked like novel characters stepped out of a story—pretty features, elegant bearing. Both looked young, maybe fourteen or thirteen at most, far too young for the venom in their voices.
Who the hell are these clowns? And why are these brats so mean to her?
The answer came instantly from the borrowed memories.
The two brats in front of her were her cousins—and the bane of her existence.
Unlike her, the two were the sect's rising stars. One was a Weapons cultivator, the other a Spirit cultivator. They were always bullying and belittling Yun Xiaoyan, taking every opportunity to remind her of her worthlessness.
"Hey, you fool." Yun Tianyu stepped forward, his voice dropping to something low and dangerous. "I'll just say this once. If you even say anything about our involvement in the incident, I'll make sure you never leave this room again."
Yun Lianhua stepped forward beside him, disgust written all over her delicate face.
"The idiot won't even dare," she said dismissively. "No need to waste your breath on her, brother."
These bastards were the ones who pushed you over the edge, Yun Xiaoyan.
The realization settled cold and hard.
They're so young, yet so venomous.
Well, I am no pushover,Yun Xiaoyan thought, keeping her expression carefully blank. *I'll make sure these two pay for how they treated you.
The two had come to threaten her, worried that the Patriarch might investigate the incident properly.
The incident that had led to the real Yun Xiaoyan committing suicide.
According to the memories, Yun Lianhua and Yun Tianyu had come earlier that day, dragging Yun Xiaoyan along to the Spirit Beast Pavilion. They'd messed around carelessly and accidentally let out some of the spirit beasts.
Then they'd left Yun Xiaoyan alone at the scene.
She'd been blamed for everything and Was going to be judged by the Patriarch himself.
Yun Xiaoyan nodded slowly, keeping her head down submissively.
Clearly satisfied that the idiot was now too scared to say anything, the two turned and walked out of the room, their steps light and unconcerned.
As the door closed behind them, Yun Xiaoyan's expression changed instantly.
From timid to calm in a heartbeat.
"Idiot? Fool?"
She sat up slowly, eyes hardening.
"No one has ever called me that. I was a legend, a star in my previous life."
Her voice came low and steady.
"You just wait."
Her brown eyes narrowed with determination.
Then—
Well, well. You can actually talk back.
A voice echoed in Yun Xiaoyan's head, clear and unexpected.
"What?"
She tilted her head sharply, looking around the empty room.
"Who is that?"