Chapter four: A Strange New World
The fluorescent lights buzzed faintly above, but it was the dull throbbing in Yun Li's chest that brought her fully into consciousness. Her vision swam. The sterile white walls of the room were foreign—nothing like the dark, opulent chambers of the Ghost Realm. Her body ached everywhere, and thick white bandages wrapped around her like chains.
Tears rolled silently down her cheeks. This body… it's broken. Her power was faint—no, nearly gone. She could barely feel the ghost energy she was born with. And the worst part? She was scared.
Beside her, the woman sobbed gently, stroking Yun Li's hair with trembling fingers. "My baby… Yona… you're awake," she whispered through tears.
Yun Li flinched. Yona… that's the name of this girl? She couldn't speak—her throat burned. But she remembered the moment just before she collapsed. The bloodline teleportation spell. The backlash. It worked… but at what cost?
The woman continued, her voice a soothing hum, "I thought I lost you. The doctor said it was a miracle… they said no one could survive such an accident." Her hands trembled as she brought a glass of water to Yun Li's lips. Yun Li sipped weakly, staring at this strange woman who wept for her. So this is a mortal mother…
Yun Li wanted to speak, to tell her the truth—but the words caught in her throat. The woman's warmth, her grief… it was too overwhelming. No one had ever cried for her. Not her father. Not her brothers. She was supposed to be dead… but now someone was holding her like she mattered.
That night, Yun Li couldn't sleep. The hospital was too bright. Too loud. Too… peaceful.
What kind of world is this?
---
At dawn, the Ghost Realm palace stood silent, cloaked in its usual gloom. The black mist curled around its spires as if sensing the fury that was about to erupt.
Crown Prince Jang Zhao Ren, tall and sharp-eyed, walked toward his younger sister's chambers with a rare softness in his steps. Though he rarely showed it, Yun Li was his only sister—and the only one who ever smiled at him without fear.
But as he opened her heavy stone door, his heart sank. The room was a wreck. Cultivation scrolls were torn, spiritual jade shattered, and ancient books lay discarded like trash. And then his gaze fell on the floor.
The teleportation talisman—scorched and still pulsing faintly—was enough to confirm his fears.
A thunderous crack echoed as he slammed his fist into the stone pillar beside her bed, cracking it all the way down. His cold eyes burned with rage as his voice boomed like thunder through the palace halls.
"SHE'S GONE?! TO THE MORTAL WORLD?! THAT GIRL" he yelled angrily, causing servants to shiver.
Servants dropped to their knees, trembling. In seconds, the palace was in chaos. Crown Prince Jang Zhao Ren summoned every attendant, guard, and caretaker who had been assigned to Yun Li.
One by one, he stood before them. "You were all trusted to protect her. Now she's gone—into a world crawling with filth and devils. Do you even understand what she is walking into?!"
Crack—a lash of his spirit whip struck the floor inches from the head servant's face. Some wept, others fainted. But beneath the prince's fury, his heart was pounding—not from anger, but worry.
She's still weak... she barely just became a Rank One. She won't survive there. That world isn't what it seems.
He turned away abruptly, his hands clenched into fists. His thoughts raced.
The mortal world appeared peaceful… to mortals.
But he knew better.
Earth was a place where supernatural beings wore the skin of humans. **Celestials, demons, witches, spirits—**they all mingled silently among the crowds. Some hid. Some hunted. All played dangerous games in the shadows.
And his sister… she was alone in it all.
He dismissed the bloodied servants with a cold wave, his voice low and shaking. "Find her. Before someone else does." He said facing a skilled guard.
---
Weeks passed like fleeting shadows.
Yunli had been recovering in a quiet hospital room, each day filled with pain, confusion, and the warmth of a woman she had never known. Her body remained sore—fragile, bruised, and mortal—but the essence of the ghost realm still flickered within her. Her powers were dormant, buried under layers of human weakness, but they hadn't disappeared. They never would.
Today, however, was different.
The sky outside was pale and soft, and for the first time in what felt like an eternity, Yunli sat in the backseat of a car, the cold window pressed against her cheek. She wore human clothes—plain, loose, and unfamiliar—and a sling wrapped gently around her shoulder.
"Are you cold?" the woman beside her asked.
Yunli turned to look at her. Miss Ji. This mortal called herself her mother. Her face was worn from sleepless nights, but her smile was warm—genuine. Something about her scent reminded Yunli of the spring festivals in the Ghost Realm, the ones she always watched from afar behind her brothers.
"No," Yunli whispered. Her voice cracked.
Miss Ji reached over and tucked a scarf closer around her neck. "We're almost home."
Home.
The word echoed in Yunli's heart like a foreign melody. Home had always meant cold palace floors, bruises, endless cultivation, and fear of making a mistake in her father's presence. Now it meant warm sheets, soft voices, and the strange smell of bread.
As the car turned into a small neighborhood, Yunli pressed her fingers to the glass. Houses stood like gentle giants, some with garden fences, some with bicycles lying on the lawns. Children ran around laughing—no training, no fear of punishment.
She blinked rapidly.
"I got your favorite snacks," Miss Ji added, proudly. "Choco pies and strawberry milk."
Yunli didn't know what that meant. She nodded anyway.
When they reached the house—a cozy little home with ivy crawling up the sides—Miss Ji hurried to open the door. The living room was small but warm. A soft couch, a TV, and framed photos she didn't recognize. Miss Ji took off her shoes, motioning for Yunli to do the same.
"You don't have to do anything today, sweetheart," she said, "just rest."
Yunli stepped inside slowly. The floor was warm. Her room was upstairs. A real bed. A window. Posters of idols she didn't know. A vanity mirror. It felt surreal.
She stood in the middle of the room, uncertain.
Then—*
thud!*
A cat jumped onto her bed, meowing. Yunli jumped, her eyes glowing faintly before she caught herself.
The cat rubbed against her leg. She knelt down.
"…I'm not her," she whispered.
But she picked the cat up anyway, and for the first time since her arrival on Earth, she smiled—small, fragile, and real.
...
Yunli had never known peace could be so gentle.
The weeks she spent with Miss Ji were like a warm dream. Every morning, the scent of eggs and toast filled the house. Her new mother always woke up early—sometimes before dawn—to prepare for work at the psychiatric hospital. On quiet days, Yunli would tag along, watching patients laugh, scream, cry, and sometimes stare blankly into the void. It reminded her of the Ghost Realm, but softened… more human.
She learned how to make tea. She learned how to fake a smile.
And slowly, her strength returned. Not the deadly cultivation power she once wielded—but a different kind of strength: the strength to feel.
When she was alone, she stared at herself in the mirror. Sometimes Yona's face would flash in her memories—scared, bruised, crying quietly in a school bathroom stall. Fragments of Yona's pain still echoed inside her chest, though Yunli didn't fully understand why.
Yona was bullied.
Her memories were cloudy, but certain scenes were painfully clear—laughter behind closed doors, shoes thrown out the window, lunches dumped on her head, and worst of all… being called "a cursed child."
The same curse Yunli once bore in her realm.
One afternoon, as Miss Ji packed her hospital bag, she called from the hallway, "School starts next week, Yona. Your new uniform is upstairs. I signed you up for counseling too, okay?"
Yunli smiled faintly. "Okay, Mom."
She touched the new uniform neatly folded on her bed.
So… Yona was in middle school. Yunli had never been to school before, not in the way mortals did. But the idea intrigued her—normalcy, peers, maybe even laughter. But deep down, she didn't forget the memory of three girls locking Yona inside the restroom.
Not this time.
If they wanted a cursed girl, she'd show them one.
...