Li Hua felt like she was falling into a whirlpool, spinning endlessly through fragments of memories of her previous life - flashes of cold stone walls and endless training grounds, the metallic taste of blood in her mouth after failed attempts at mastering techniques beyond her years.
The memories burned through her mind like acid - faces of all those she killed: high-rise corporate executives who never saw her coming in their penthouse suites, corrupt politicians who breathed their last in their luxury apartments, crime syndicate leaders who thought themselves untouchable behind their sophisticated security systems.
Each kill had been precise, calculated, utilizing the latest technology alongside traditional methods - nerve agents disguised as designer perfumes, carbon fiber garrotes hidden in pearl necklaces, poisoned needles concealed in business cards. The memories of security camera blind spots, fingerprint-erasing sprays, of untraceable synthetic toxins, all flooded back at once.
"No." Li hua whispered. Was she being sent back to her previous life? An ache bloomed in her heart and the thought of leaving this new family - this warm, loving home - made her chest constrict with a pain far worse than any physical wound she'd endured in her past life.
Tears welled in her eyes and for the first time in both lives she felt truly vulnerable. Not the calculated vulnerability she'd once used to lure targets into false security, but raw, genuine emotion that threatened to overwhelm her carefully constructed walls.
Suddenly her vision went black.
Pain radiated through her body, a familiar sensation that reminded her of the night she saved Li Min from a gang of street thugs who'd cornered her in an alley. Li Hua closed her eyes and leaned against the cold and rigid bricks. She remembered that Li Min had snuck out of the house to meet her "boyfriend" at the time, after she told her profusely to stay away from him.
"Sister? Sister?" A voice echoed in her ears. But it wasn't the soft and sweet voices of her brothers Li Hao and Li Wei, instead it was Li Min's?
"Sister, I'm so sorry. Please wake up, I promise I won't do this again," she said through sobs, her voice thick with guilt and fear.
Li Hua quickly opened her eyes and was shocked. The world around her had shifted - instead of the dirt path and terraced fields of the cultivation world, she found herself back in the modern city.
"Li Min?" She asked, confusion evident in her voice. This couldn't be right - she had left this life behind, hadn't she?
"Sister! You're awake! I'll...I'll call for an ambulance right now!" Li Min shouted, scrambling to pull her phone out of her purse, her hands shaking as she tried to dial.
Li Hua watched her sister with a mixture of disbelief and nostalgia. Was this a memory or was she reborn back into her old life?
Whatever this was, it was so vivid - the neon signs flickering above them, the distant sound of traffic, even the acrid smell of garbage from the nearby dumpster. She remembered how this night had ended: three broken ribs, a minor concussion, and Li Min sobbing by her hospital bed for days.
Her vision blurred and then she was shrouded in darkness, once again. This time, the darkness felt different—not like the disorientating shift when she first arrived back into her previous life, but the heavy, smothering darkness of true unconsciousness, the kind that came with her injuries that night.
She drifted through this emptiness, weightless, untethered, until a sound began to pierce the silence. At first, it was distant, like a whisper carried on wind, but it grew steadily clearer, pulling her toward it with mechanical persistence.
Beep...Beep...Beep
Li Hua opened her eyes to find herself in an executive suite of the hospital's VIP wing, where warm ambient lighting cast a gentle glow across the mahogany-paneled walls. The sharp pain from earlier had subsided to a distant throb, dulled by the Fentanyl dripping steadily through her IV, its stand disguised within an elegant brass lamp post. The powerful opioid made her thoughts float like leaves on a gentle stream, disconnected and hazy.
Through the drug-induced fog, she could make out the subtle hum of state-of-the-art medical equipment, deliberately muted to maintain the room's peaceful atmosphere. The oxygen flowed silently through a discrete nasal cannula; the tubing nearly invisible against her skin.
Through the soundproofed designer glass that separated her suite from the private hallway, Li Hua spotted Anna, her trusted right-hand, gesturing animatedly at Li Min in the waiting area. Even through the soundproofed designer glass, Anna's body language spoke volumes – the sharp jabbing of her manicured finger, the rigid set of her shoulders beneath her tailored blazer, the way she towered over Li Min despite their similar heights.
Li Hua didn't need to hear the words to know exactly what was happening; after years of working together, she knew Anna's protective fury all too well. Her second-in-command had always been fiercely protective, treating any harm to Li Hua as a personal affront.
Poor Li Min stood there, shoulders hunched, nodding repeatedly as she absorbed what was undoubtedly a blistering lecture about responsibility and consequences.
She stared up at the coffered ceiling, its hand-painted details blurring as tears threatened to spill. The warmth of her father's embrace still lingered like a phantom sensation, making even this luxurious suite feel hollow and empty. "Why?" she whispered to the silence, her voice barely audible over the gentlest whisper of medical monitors, their displays tastefully integrated into the room's décor.
Why now, when I finally found somewhere I belong.
Her heart ached with a pain that no amount of premium pharmaceuticals could touch – the pain of being torn between two worlds, of having happiness slip through her fingers just as she'd learned to grasp it. The love of her new family – her father's gentle wisdom, her brothers' innocent affection, her mother's quiet strength – felt like a dream rapidly fading in the soft light of this familiar reality.
A soft knock interrupted her thoughts as she watched Anna enter her hospital room.
"Master, you're awake." Anna moved with practiced efficiency; her footsteps silent against the polished floor as she approached the bed. Li Hua tried to compose herself, to slip back into the mask she'd worn so often in this life, but the rawness of her emotions made it difficult.
"Report." The word escaped her lips, and Li Hua felt a strange disconnect, as if she were watching a memory play out in perfect detail. This was her past self, a moment frozen in time, being replayed with haunting clarity. The realization hit her like a physical force: this wasn't real – at least, not anymore.
Yet, within this understanding flickered a spark of hope. If this was just a memory – just echoes of a life she'd left behind – then perhaps she could break free, could find her way back to the warmth of her father's embrace and her brothers' laughter. She had to escape, had to fight against these fragments of her past before they consumed her completely.
But...how?
"Little Firefly?" She called out in her thoughts, hoping her faithful companion would answer but only silence greeted her.
What's going on?
Panic crept into her thoughts like frost spreading across glass. For the past decade, Little Firefly had been her constant companion, the one presence she could always rely on in moments of distress. He had become so integral to her existence that the thought of life without him seemed impossible – she could barely remember the time before him and couldn't fathom what would come after.