Rain. It always had to be rain.
Lin Xueya pressed the broken umbrella tighter against her shoulder as she hurried down the street. Cold droplets seeped through the fabric, rolling into her collar, sliding down her spine. Her shoes squelched with each step.
"Figures," she muttered. "Out of all days, it had to pour."
She had woken late that morning, missed her bus, and arrived at work only to find her contract terminated. "Downsizing," her supervisor had said with false sympathy, while slipping her a cardboard box of her belongings. It wasn't as if she hadn't worked hard. In fact, she worked harder than most—but fate seemed to find delight in kicking her down at every chance.
She still remembered last month, when she'd finally saved enough for a deposit on a tiny apartment. The landlord had vanished overnight with all the money. She had reported it, of course, but the police only shook their heads. Bad luck, miss. Nothing we can do.
It was always bad luck. Always her.
The sky flashed with lightning, and she flinched, clutching her umbrella. "Tch. Should've stayed in bed."
Her phone buzzed. She pulled it out and glanced at the cracked screen. A message from the bank: Balance insufficient to process payment.
"Perfect." She shoved it back in her pocket. Unemployed, broke, soaked to the bone. Was there anyone in the world more unlucky than her?
As she reached the crosswalk, the light turned green. She stepped forward, tightening her grip on the umbrella, when a blaring horn cut through the rain.
Her head jerked up.
A truck barreled through the intersection, tires screeching against wet asphalt.
Her eyes widened. For a brief instant, she thought about jumping back. But her shoe slipped on the slick road.
The headlights swallowed her.
Ah. Figures.
The impact was brutal, a white-hot explosion of pain that tore through her chest, flung her body into the air. She landed hard, the umbrella skidding away, metal crunching behind her.
Voices shouted. Rain fell heavier. Her vision blurred, the world dimming at the edges.
So this is it…? She coughed, tasting iron. The sound of her own heartbeat grew faint.
She wanted to scream at the world. To rage. To demand why she, of all people, was cursed with such a life. But even that required strength she no longer had.
Her final thought was bitter. I guess some people are just born unlucky.
Darkness claimed her.
---
At first, there was nothing. No pain, no cold. Only a strange lightness, as though her body had been peeled away, leaving only a fragile wisp behind.
Lin Xueya blinked—or thought she did. She couldn't feel her eyelids, nor her hands, nor her legs. Only a faint, translucent outline shimmered around her.
"…Am I… a ghost?"
Her voice echoed in the emptiness.
She looked down, and her stomach lurched. Below her lay the street. Flashing lights. Paramedics surrounding a crumpled body. Her body. Pale skin, unmoving chest, blood mixing with rain.
She tried to scream, but no sound came. Only a faint ripple through the void.
The scene blurred, then dissolved, like smoke swept by the wind. The world of the living slipped away.
She floated in endless black.
No time. No direction. No end.
Panic clawed at her. How long had she been drifting? A minute? A century? Her sense of self frayed at the edges.
"…Is this it?" Her voice cracked. "No heaven, no hell. Just… nothing?"
Silence answered.
For the first time in her life, she felt truly powerless. She had always scraped by, clawing against misfortune, gritting her teeth through every setback. But now… there was no fight left.
She curled into herself, or tried to. Her form shivered, flickering faintly. "I just wanted… one chance. Just once. To not be unlucky."
A ripple stirred the void.
Then a voice, calm and resonant, echoed around her.
"Child."
Her head snapped up—or whatever counted as her head. A figure approached, cloaked in soft silver light. No face, no form, only a humanoid outline of moonlit radiance.
Xueya recoiled. "Wh—who are you?"
The voice was deep yet oddly gentle. "A watcher. A passerby. One who has seen your suffering."
"My… suffering?" she repeated, suspicion edging her tone.
"Yes. A life bound by misfortune. Each effort twisted, each dream crushed. You were not born under fortune's star."
She gave a bitter laugh. "That's one way to put it."
The figure tilted its head. "You do not deny it."
"Deny it?" Her voice rose. "Why should I? Everyone else walks through life with sunshine and luck. Me? I can't even keep a job without fate throwing a bus at me—literally this time! Of course I don't deny it. My life was a joke."
The figure was silent for a long while. Then it said, "Would you like another?"
She blinked. "…Another what?"
"Another life."
Her translucent form stiffened. "You mean—reincarnation? That's real?"
"Everything is real somewhere," the figure replied simply.
Xueya hesitated. "So what—you'll just… give me a new life? Just like that? Why?"
The light flickered faintly, like amusement. "You mortals are always suspicious. Must kindness always hide a trap?"
"Yes," she said flatly.
The figure chuckled—a deep, rumbling sound that vibrated through the void. "Perhaps you are wise. But no, I do not seek your soul. I offer you a chance because… I pity you."
She gawked. "…Gods pity people?"
"Occasionally. Mostly when the drama is particularly tragic."
Her mouth twitched. "So I'm your tragic drama of the week?"
"Something like that."
She groaned. "Great. Even in death, I'm entertainment."
The figure's glow warmed. "Do you wish it or not? A new beginning. A chance to rise beyond misfortune."
Her first instinct was to snap yes. But hesitation clawed at her. "What's the catch? Don't tell me I'll wake up as a cockroach."
"No," the figure said smoothly. "Not a cockroach. Something… humbler."
"…That's not reassuring."
"You will not be born as a hero, nor as a noble. Not as a genius cultivator, nor as a dragon-blooded prodigy. You will serve. That is your path."
"Serve?" She narrowed her eyes. "You mean like… a servant?"
"Yes."
She stared, then burst out, "You're telling me everyone else gets sword spirits, phoenix flames, and heavenly bloodlines—and I get servitude?"
"Indeed."
The deadpan calmness in the figure's tone made her want to scream.
"You're serious," she whispered.
"Completely."
Xueya dragged her hands down her translucent face. "I can't believe this. I lived a cursed life, died in the stupidest way possible, and my grand reward is… to scrub floors in another world."
The figure's light pulsed faintly. "Not just scrub floors. You will be given a system. Serve with diligence, and you will grow strong. Obey, and you will gain resilience. Endure, and you may ascend."
Her spirit froze. "…Wait. A system? Like… a cheat?"
"Yes. But not the kind mortals dream of. It will not hand you power freely. It will guide your path of service. The rest… is yours to carve."
She was silent for a long while.
A system. A new life. A chance.
It wasn't the glorious rebirth she might have imagined, but… compared to eternal drifting in the void? Compared to the cruel joke of her last life?
It was something.
She exhaled, voice trembling. "Fine. I'll take it."
The figure's tone softened, almost fond. "Good. Then go, little one. Serve, endure, and prove that even the lowest may rise above heaven."
Light engulfed her. The void dissolved.
---
Warmth. Weight. The feeling of lungs pulling air.
Xueya gasped, jerking upright.
Her body felt strange. Too light, too soft. Her hearing—sharp. Her nose twitched, catching scents she couldn't name.
And… her head. Something heavy and warm rested there, twitching faintly with every sound.
She reached up with trembling hands. Fur. Long, velvety fur.
Her breath caught. She pulled the ears down in front of her face. White. Fluffy. Undeniably rabbit ears.
Her heart slammed in her chest.
"What the—"
She looked down. A plain black maid dress hugged her body, an apron tied neatly at the waist. Delicate shoes on her feet. White stockings. Her reflection in the polished floor shimmered faintly: pale skin, wide pink eyes, soft cheeks… and those ears.
She choked on a laugh. "Oh, you've got to be kidding me."
The god's words echoed in her mind. You will serve. That is your path.
Her hand trembled as she touched her ears again.
"…I've been reincarnated… as a rabbit-eared maid?"
The silence of the dormitory pressed around her. She stared at her reflection, disbelief etched in every line of her face.
Then, faintly, a bitter smile tugged at her lips.
"Figures."