An unwelcome memory surfaced—the weathered face of Master Chen materialized in her mind with crystal clarity. His dark eyes, sharp as obsidian and cold as winter steel, had studied her that day in the rain-soaked alley.
He was the Shadow Guild's finest assassin, Alpha 1, a legend who moved like death itself, yet he had stopped to look at her—a half-starved child of six, abandoned to the gutters of a world that had no use for broken things. She never understood why he extended his hand that day, why the most feared killer in three provinces would, on nothing more than a whim, choose to lift her from the mud. But she was grateful.
Master Chen's first lesson had been brutal yet profound, power wasn't merely about physical strength or technical mastery, but about the unyielding spirit that refused to break. "A weapon is only as deadly as the will that wields it," he would say, his voice carrying the weight of hard-earned wisdom. "Now, little rat," he would pause, his calloused hand gripping the wooden practice sword until his knuckles whitened, "show me what burns inside you." Those words had become her mantra through years of relentless training.
"Master?" Little Firefly's voice pierced through her reverie, yanking her back to the present moment.
"Mmm?" Li Hua replied.
"It seems your new family is close by. Are you ready?" He asked softly.
"You can sense them?" Li Hua asked in surprise.
"Yes, Master. Even though my spiritual powers are weakened in this state, I can still detect auras and sense malicious intent within a ten-mile radius," Little Firefly explained, his glow pulsing faintly with pride despite his diminished condition.
"That's still useful," Li Hua nodded, appreciating the tactical advantage of having an early warning system. She squared her shoulders, steeling herself for what was to come. "Alright, let's meet this... new family of mine."
She needed to grasp the intricacies of her new identity; to understand the web of relationships she'd inherited along with this body.
In her past life, besides Master Chen, Li Min had been her only family. Although they weren't blood siblings, Li Hua had treated her like a true sister, only to discover she'd been nurturing a wolf in sheep's clothing. The thought of Li Min only soured her mood now, the bitter taste of betrayal rising in her throat as memories of her sister's treachery flickered through her mind. She had given that girl everything—a home, protection, even love—only to have her turn like a viper in the night.
Now, faced with the prospect of another family, Li Hua felt her assassin's instincts bristle. Trust was a luxury she could no longer afford, yet this body's memories pulled at her with an insistence she couldn't entirely ignore. The gentle tug of familial bonds, foreign as they were, threatened to unravel her carefully maintained distance.
"Master, they're about five minutes away." Little Firefly stated.
Without a word, Li Hua walked out of the home and stood in front of their small courtyard. For a moment she was surprised. The scene before her was ordinary yet no matter where she looked there was so much life. Wildflowers pushed through cracks in the weathered stone path, their purple and yellow heads bobbing in the gentle breeze. A pair of sparrows darted between the eaves, weaving bits of straw into their nest. Even the old plum tree in the corner bore fresh buds, defiant against its gnarled bark.
"What's going on?" Li Hua mumbled to herself. The colors of this world were so vibrant and overwhelming.
"Master, welcome to the world of cultivators. Imagine the scenery when you've reached the top of the hierarchy." Little Firefly said excitedly.
"You mean this could be more magnificent?" Li Hua asked in surprise.
"Yes, Master. Much more." Little Firefly responded confidently.
Because of the bond that Li Hua and Little Firefly have, Little Firefly could also see through her eyes.
"Sister!" A sweet boy's voice rang out from the distance.
Li Hua turned to see two little boys running in her direction. They looked exhausted but their smiles were so contagious that Li Hua couldn't help but smile back.
Through this body's memories, Li Hua recognized her brothers: the tall, lanky nine-year-old was Li Wei, and the shorter, chubby seven-year-old was Li Hao. In her tiny borrowed form, she was merely four—the youngest of the siblings by far.
"Baby!" The thin but beautiful woman walking behind the boys called out, her voice clear and melodious like a morning songbird. Li Hua felt a strange tug in her chest as fragments of memories surfaced—this woman was her mother in this new life.
The former assassin's instincts struggled with the innocent memories of family dinners and bedtime stories that belonged to this small body. Little Firefly's presence hummed reassuringly in her mind, helping her maintain balance between her old self and these unfamiliar yet precious bonds.
"My little poppy!" A man's deep voice boomed from behind her mother, warm and rich like honey. Through the child's memories, Li Hua recognized him as her father, a farmer. His weathered hands and sun-darkened skin told stories of long days in the fields, yet his eyes sparkled with a gentleness that made Li Hua's assassin heart flutter with unfamiliar emotion.
The contrast between her past life's memories of blood-soaked missions and this simple family scene before her was jarring. Little Firefly's warmth pulsed stronger, as if sensing her internal struggle to reconcile these two vastly different existences.
"Are you ok, master?" Little Firefly asked with concern.
"Yes. Thank you, Little Firefly," Li Hua whispered, drawing comfort from his constant presence.
The boys reached the courtyard first, their excitement palpable in their thundering footsteps and eager shouts. Li Hua watched them through new eyes, her assassin's instincts noting their unguarded movements, their vulnerable backs—but these thoughts now mingled with the body's memories of playing chase in this very courtyard, of sharing stolen sweets behind the garden wall. She felt Little Firefly's gentle nudge in her mind, reminding her that these were not targets but brothers, their safety was now her responsibility rather than her threat.
"Big brother Wei, big brother Hao." Li Hua replied, awkwardness coloring her voice as she tested the familiar names on her unfamiliar tongue. The words felt strange, yet the body's muscle memory shaped them naturally, as if it had spoken them a thousand times before.
Her brothers turned at her call, their faces lighting up with the pure, uncomplicated affection that only siblings could share. Li Hua's heart, hardened by years of solitude, trembled at their genuine warmth. These were not the calculated smiles she was accustomed to; they held no hidden daggers, no veiled threats. Just love, simple and true.
"Hua Hua! How are you feeling? Better? Tired? Hungry?" The words tumbled out of Li Hao in rapid succession, his chubby cheeks still red from running.
But before she could answer, "Sister, look! Daddy bought us some meat!" Li Wei said excitedly, waving a small package wrapped in mulberry bark.
"Yes, pork meat!" Li Hao shouted, his eyes twinkling.
Li Hua felt overwhelmed by the sudden barrage of attention, her assassin's instincts struggling to process such uninhibited displays of affection.
"Alright, alright. You two stop pestering your sister and give her some room to breathe!" Her father shouted, his tone stern but tinged with unmistakable fondness. Li Hua watched as he gently shooed the boys away, his weathered hands moving with the practiced ease of a parent who had performed these ritual countless times before.
"Baby, how are you feeling?" Her mother knelt beside her, placing her hand on Li Hua's forehead.
"I'm ok," Li Hua said softly. Her mother's hand was warm, calloused from years of work, yet impossibly tender. A peculiar ache bloomed in Li Hua's chest—each gentle touch so different from the clinical efficiency she'd known in her past life.
A smile formed on her mother's beautiful face as she gently combed through Li Hua's hair. "You must've just woken up right after I left, right? Were you scared?"
Li Hua shook her head slowly and responded softly, "No."
At four years old, Li Hua was still mastering her speech, and having just broken her fever, her brief response raised no suspicions from her parents.
"That's good. My Hua'er is such a good girl," her mother's smile deepened as she continued her tender ministrations.
Li Hua remained still, drinking in every detail of her mother's face: the slight crinkles at the corners of her eyes, the soft curve of her smile, the way love seemed to radiate from her very being. This was a face worth memorizing, she decided, not for tactical advantage but for something far more precious—the simple gift of belonging.
"Come here, my little poppy!" Her father scooped her up in his strong arms, his familiar scent of sweat and leather enveloping her.
In her previous life, such sudden movements would have triggered defensive instincts, but her new body responded differently, melting into his embrace with complete trust. The assassin in her marveled at this involuntary surrender, even as the child's memories whispered that this was safety, this was home. His chest rumbled with a gentle laugh as he cradled her, and Li Hua found herself wondering if this was what it felt like to be truly cherished.
"I missed you so much!" He whispered as he gave her a few quick kisses.
Little Firefly's warmth pulsed at the edge of her consciousness, a silent reminder that she wasn't alone in navigating these unfamiliar waters of affection. The old Li Hua would have analyzed every gesture for hidden motives, cataloged each movement for future reference.
But here, wrapped in her father's protective embrace, she found herself surrendering to a different kind of knowledge—one that lived in the marrow of her borrowed bones, in the muscle memory of countless embraces that this body had known before she inhabited it.
"Bàba." She whispered.
The word felt foreign yet achingly familiar on her tongue, a contradiction that seemed to define her new existence. Her small fingers curled into the rough fabric of his shirt, and she breathed in deeply, allowing the child's memories to guide her through this dance of familial intimacy.