What lies beyond death?
Most say peace. A deep, eternal slumber where the soul dissolves into nothingness. Amelia believed it too—until the opposite happened.
An irritating buzz pulled her from the darkness, like a thousand bees murmuring in her ear. It was faint at first, then grew louder, sharper—an unrelenting hum that gnawed at her mind.
She frowned. Silence. She tried to move, to shush them away. But—wait. She was dead… wasn't she?
A sharp pulse of confusion rippled through her as her heavy eyelids trembled open. The world swam into view. At first, it was nothing more than shapes and light. Then, slowly, clarity returned.
An ancient wooden ceiling. Delicate carvings danced along its beams. The smell of herbal incense clung to the air. Nearby, hushed whispers filled the space.
"She moved!"
"No way! Wasn't she on the brink of death just yesterday?"
"Did a miracle happen?"
Amelia's heart pounded. Where am I? She sat up slowly, her head spinning. A cold sweat ran down her spine.
The room was unfamiliar. Four beds lined the walls, each accompanied by a small wooden table. Paper lanterns bathed the space in a soft, golden glow. Three girls, dressed in plain linen robes, stared at her as if they'd just seen a ghost.
Awkward silence fell. Clearly, she had been the topic of their gossip.
But Amelia barely registered them. Her breath caught in her throat as her gaze dropped to her hands—small, delicate, untouched by age. Gone were the weathered fingers of a woman who had lived for nearly a century. These hands were youthful, unblemished.
She reached up, touching her face. Smooth skin. No wrinkles. No sagging. Just round cheeks and a petite jawline.
In a panic, she looked around for a mirror. There was none—only a shallow bowl of water beside her bed.
She leaned over it. The reflection staring back made her inhale sharply.
A young girl, no older than twelve or thirteen, with flawless porcelain skin, cascading black hair like a midnight waterfall, and—most striking of all—eyes of shimmering silver. Bright, intelligent, and unnatural.
This isn't me. This definitely isn't me!
"Am I dreaming?" she whispered. "No. That's impossible…"
To be sure, she pinched her cheek hard. "Ow!" It hurt. Definitely real.
Suddenly, a stabbing pain pierced her skull. Amelia clutched her head, groaning as foreign memories rushed in like a tidal wave—scenes, feelings, voices, and names that weren't hers. Emotions that didn't belong to her heart.
And then, realization.
She had died. In her hospital bed, peaceful and ready. But her soul hadn't passed on. Instead, it had traveled across space, time, and worlds—transmigrated into the body of this girl named Jiang Yue.
The memories fell into place like puzzle pieces.
Jiang Yue—an orphan taken in by the Silver Mist Sect during their once in a decade recruitment tour. At the age of five, a kind older sister had given her a chance to take the sect's Qi-sensing test. Miraculously, Jiang Yue had shown affinity and was taken in… not as a disciple, but a servant girl.
Assigned to the sect's ancient library, she had worked under the quiet, eccentric Elder Mo. He had grown fond of her quiet nature and quick mind. He taught her to read, gifted her books, and occasionally slipped her pills—little kindnesses in an otherwise cold world.
Other servant children grew jealous of her favored position. Despite her efforts to make friends, she remained alone. Books became her only true companions.
Then, just a week ago, everything changed.
Jiang Yue awakened her Martial Soul—a moment most children dreamed of. It should've been a celebration, a turning point. But when her soul manifested, it wasn't a weapon or a beast like the others.
It was… a book. Old. Torn. Useless, they said.
Laughter followed. Cruel whispers. Even the elders looked at her with pity.
Humiliated, Jiang Yue had locked herself in her quarters. For seven days, she refused food and water, isolating herself in shame. Her frail body finally collapsed—and in that moment, her soul departed.
Only for Amelia's to arrive.
As the last memory faded, Amelia sat still, her breath trembling.
She looked down at her hands again.
"So… this is my second life," she whispered, her voice laced with wonder and sorrow.
One of the girls finally broke the silence. "You... you're really okay? You haven't eaten in days!"
Amelia—no, Jiang Yue—offered a faint smile. "I'm alive, aren't I? And starving."
The girls exchanged nervous chuckles. One darted off to fetch food.
Jiang Yue leaned back, eyes still fixed on the ceiling.
The heavens have granted me another chance. A new body. A new world. I don't know why, or how… but I won't waste it.
I may have been Amelia once. But from today onward… I am Jiang Yue. And I will rise—not as a mere servant girl, not as a mocked outer disciple…
But as someone who will shake the heavens.