chapter 1 : beginning

In the glittering city of Jinghai, where skyscrapers kissed the clouds and taxis honked like it was a competitive sport, a high-rent apartment stood on the twenty-sixth floor of a very pink, very bougie residential tower.

Inside Apartment 2603, a soul-wrenching sound pierced the quiet.

BZZZT BZZZT BZZZT—

“WAKE UP. IT’S 6:00 A.M. TIME TO SHINE—”

THWACK!

The alarm clock died a valiant death as it was flung off the nightstand by a lazy hand.

Beneath a fortress of blankets, Feng Ruqing let out a low groan that could've exorcised a weak-willed spirit on its own. Her long black hair spilled out like a waterfall, and her delicate face remained buried in her pillow, drool threatening the safety of its edge.

“Five more minutes,” she muttered.

“I’m a genius. I can afford five minutes.”

Five minutes turned into fifty-five.

When she finally opened one eye and saw the time—7:12 A.M.—she made a sound somewhere between a banshee's scream and a dying kettle.

“AAAAH! I’m gonna be late!”

With the speed of someone whose life depended on not missing the morning roll call (and it kinda did — Principal Yan had threatened her with holy water last time), she flung the blanket aside, slammed into the bathroom door, brushed her teeth with demon-slaying fury, and face-washed like she was scrubbing off the guilt of every soul she’d ever sent to the afterlife.

Still wearing mismatched socks, she stuffed a piece of barely-buttered bread into her mouth and dashed out the door.

“Bye apartment, bye dignity!

Outside…

As she sprinted down the sidewalk, bag flapping, hair in a chaotic ponytail, and a glowing talisman stuck to her wrist like a bracelet (for spiritual emergencies only), bystanders turned to stare.

But Feng Ruqing didn’t care. She was in what professionals called academic hell mode.

“Please don't let the bus be gone— PLEASE—”

As if mocking her, her usual school bus zoomed past, leaving behind a burst of spiritual exhaust and a cackling wind spirit clinging to its roof.

“WHY IS THAT GHOST HITCHING A RIDE AND NOT PAYING FARE?!”

Cursing under her breath, she stomped toward the next corner where an ancient granny ran an underground teleportation talisman stand. Yes, it cost ten spirit jades. Yes, it sometimes exploded. But it beat detention.

Within her bag…

A strange rustle.

Something… woke up.

Her realm spirit, a glowing, palm-sized wisp with sleepy eyes and a lotus-shaped birthmark on its tiny forehead, peeked out from under her schoolbooks. Feng Ruqing called it Little Spirit — mostly because naming it something grand like “Celestial Realm Core” felt ridiculous when it threw tantrums over spicy noodles.

Little Spirit let out a squeaky yawn.

“Qing-qing~ You forgot to take your anti-soul-disruption pill! Again!”

“Can’t talk now, Little Spirit, I’m running on caffeine fumes and toast!”

The wisp floated upward lazily, arms folded like a grumpy dumpling. “No wonder three ghosts followed you home yesterday. You’re leaking spirit qi like a faulty incense burner!”

Feng Ruqing ignored him.

She reached the school gate, sweaty, panting — but miraculously on time.

Sort of.

Only to find...

Nothing unusual.

Just rows of students, gossiping, yawning, fighting over meat buns.

“Huh,” she muttered around her toast. “I was emotionally prepared for a demon encounter. Now I’m just disappointed.”

She shoved her hands into her blazer pockets, adjusted her bag, and sighed.

Another day of pretending to be a normal student, while secretly carrying a portable dimension and the ability to dismantle curses with a needle and a glare.

“Fantastic,” she said dryly. “Just what my life needed.”

The classroom smelled faintly of chalk, sweat, and teenage apathy. Someone was snoring two rows behind her. Someone else was casting paper spells to make a pen levitate.

Feng Ruqing sat at her desk, chin resting on her palm, staring out the window. A light breeze played with the strands of her hair.

She blinked once.

And vanished.

Not her body — not this time.

Her consciousness slipped inward, like a tide receding into a secret cove.

Her body remained at her desk, still and composed, as if she were dozing. But if someone looked closely, they'd notice the faint golden shimmer dancing in her eyes, and the way the air around her pulsed — like the rhythm of a second heart.

✦ Inside the Realm

Mist curled around her ankles the moment she entered.

The realm opened before her like a lotus in bloom — a vast space of sky and floating lands, lit by a sun that was neither hot nor harsh. Ancient trees with glowing leaves swayed over bubbling springs, and a gentle wind carried the scent of spiritual herbs and warmth.

This place… was alive.

Her realm.

It wasn’t made — it was given. Or perhaps… awakened.

And every time she entered it, she felt like she was returning to a place that had been waiting for her for centuries.

“Master~!”

A soft chime of a voice rang out, and a small glowing wisp zipped toward her. It was palm-sized, with wide, watery eyes, two floating sleeves, and a lotus petal hat far too big for its head.

Little Spirit. Her realm’s guardian — born from it. Innocent, playful, and annoying in all the ways a spirit could afford to be.

It tackled her shoulder and curled up like a cat. “You’re here again! Are we making explodey pills today? Or sleepy ones?”

Ruqing snorted. “They’re called soul-repairing pills, you troublemaker.”

“I like mine better,” Little Spirit said brightly, nuzzling her hair. “You always make scary faces when you work~ Makes me want to hide in the tea kettle.”

She rolled her eyes but smiled despite herself.

She stepped into her pill courtyard — carved from moonstone, encircled by flame-runed vines. Her cauldron sat in the center, tall as she was, etched with phoenixes mid-flight.

As she waved her hand, herbs floated to her in glowing clusters — snowgrass, dreamroot, crimson ginseng. She fed the cauldron each one like a secret, and with a flick of her fingers, summoned her flame.

Golden lotus fire bloomed beneath the cauldron.

As the brew started bubbling, she leaned back on her heels, watching the colors swirl. The warmth kissed her face, but her thoughts wandered — drifting to the past.

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