Saint Year 741, June 17. The heavy-industry city of Bolen.
A red-haired girl pushed open the thick wooden door and stepped out from the noisy classroom.
Just as she was about to cross the threshold, a slightly nervous female voice called out from behind her.
"Sha… Shaer, I'd like to invite you to a tea party tomorrow afternoon, at my house."
Hearing the voice, Shaer turned her head a little. Reflected in her dark red eyes were the blue irises that symbolized nobility, and the black invitation card in the other girl's hand, its edges stamped in gold.
"Thank you, Miss Amy," Shaer turned with a smile and reached out to take the invitation. "If I'm free tomorrow, I'll certainly visit."
Seeing that the red-haired girl hadn't given a firm yes, Amy's expression dimmed slightly.
She knew that when the other party phrased it like that, it usually meant she wouldn't come. That was how Shaer had gently declined others' invitations before.
But Amy still refused to give up and continued, a bit more urgently:
"It's a tea party about admissions. A few professors from Ansu University's colleges will be there… Shaer, don't you find law interesting? My father knows them well—if you show them your brilliance, you'll definitely get letters of recommendation!"
"And besides, graduation is almost here, and you've never been to my house. It's pretty big…"
At that point, light returned to Amy's eyes.
She was practically spelling it out: as long as Shaer came to the tea party, she would make sure Shaer got a recommendation to the best university in the capital, Ansu—and to a discipline Shaer liked.
If Shaer received a recommendation, they could leave this city shrouded in gray smog together and head to the capital for university!
Amy's heart pounded. Staring at the exquisitely beautiful girl before her, she found herself a little absent-minded.
Shaer's hair burned like flame. Under the sunlight pouring through the window, her curled strands flashed with gold-red, as if every lock carried the heat and force of a blaze.
Her skin was ivory-pale, sharply contrasting with her red hair. Her features were chiseled to perfection; the corners of her lips always held a faint smile, lending her a touch of mystery and nobility.
Especially now, her slightly distant dark red eyes were deep and enigmatic. Wherever her gaze fell, it radiated an irresistible charm.
"Shaer?" Amy prompted instinctively. She desperately wanted an answer from Shaer's lips, even though everyone else's invitations had failed.
"I…" Shaer's scattered gaze refocused. She looked at the blonde girl before her and slightly drew back her smile. After slipping the invitation into her pocket, she said calmly, "I've never found law interesting."
"Thank you for inviting me. See you at the graduation ceremony the day after tomorrow."
Shaer inclined her head politely and turned away.
The hem of her black uniform dress lifted as she moved, and when it fell back down, it seemed to take Amy's mood with it, dropping it to the ground with gravity's pull.
Amy raised a hand, wanting to say something more. After a long moment, she let it fall helplessly, watching the red-haired girl ahead grow farther and farther away.
…
After declining Friend A, greeting Classmate B, exchanging a few more words than usual with Teacher C, and finally smiling goodbye to Passersby D, E, F, and G, Shaer left Bolen Private Academy and started home.
It had been three years since her soul replaced that of this girl who had once chosen death. By now, Shaer was mostly used to life in this world—and to her new identity.
This world was both similar to and different from the one she had known before. It looked very much like Victorian-era Birmingham, yet the details diverged in many ways—like the many churches with names she had never heard before, and the wondrous edifices those churches had built.
What disappointed her, however, was that in three years she hadn't discovered any events or people related to supernatural power. It seemed to be just an ordinary parallel world.
Leaving the academy, she followed the neat flagstones out of the area. After crossing three blocks, her steps came down on a road paved with black gravel.
Clocktower Lane District.
Compared to the academy's tranquil, genteel streets of neatly laid stone, Clocktower Lane was stiflingly hot. The roar of machines and furnaces echoed everywhere, and the pitted road of black gravel exuded an indescribable sour stench.
Clocktower Lane was a small microcosm of Bolen: machines thundered day and night; steam belched black smoke straight into the sky; the entire city was like a giant furnace trying to scorch the heavens.
"Jingle—"
A carriage sped past, splashing the filth from a puddle. Drops of that black water flew up, and one fell on Shaer's clean white stockings, leaving a dark stain.
Coming back here from the academy felt like stepping a few paces from a Hogwarts set straight into the neighboring Peaky Blinders shoot. It was hard to imagine scenes like this existing in the same city.
"Hey, little lady, you alright?"
The carriage stopped a short way behind Shaer. A fat, double-breasted (unbuttonable) middle-aged man stuck his head out the window. He took off his top hat to wipe the sweat from his forehead and stared fixedly at Shaer's back.
Shaer acted as if she hadn't heard. She pressed the brim of her standard wide-edged cap lower and quickened her pace.
She was like a wildlife photographer on the African savannah, doing her best to avoid contact with animals—whether in heat or not—adhering to naturalism and a "non-interference photography" rule.
She navigated the alleys with practiced ease and emerged onto another street.
Rows of houses rose and fell along the road, their walls mottled with the marks of time. The lanes smelled of coal smoke and cooking.
She stopped before No. 44, let out a long breath, climbed a few steps, and stood at the door.
Shaer took out her key but didn't unlock the door immediately. She bent slightly, carefully checking the crack of the door, then slowly drew out a long, fiery-red hair.
Confirming that the door hadn't been opened in her absence, Shaer slid the key into the lock. Once inside, she bolted it behind her.
The door shut out the clamor and the unspeakable odors outside, easing her nerves a little.
The small parlor held rough-made wooden table and chairs, an old-fashioned but well-polished sofa, and a tiny fireplace. Cute little ornaments sat on the mantel. The décor was simple yet cozy.
The kitchen adjoined the living room. A coal stove was the main tool for cooking, and a sack of coal sat in the corner.
Shaer went upstairs to her room, changed out of her standard dress and apron into a linen skirt better for working, then came down to light the fire and start dinner.
If anyone from school—say, Miss Amy—saw her now, their jaws would hit the floor. They might even suspect they were hallucinating.
How could a girl with such a mysterious, aristocratic air live in such a lower-class neighborhood—and be so skilled at housework?
"Can't you even bear to hear 'Spring Sun Shadow'?" (TN: a popular tune proverbially used to tease someone's delicate sensibilities.)
Shaer deftly finished dinner—a stew of potatoes, carrots, onions, cabbage, and some trimmings of lean meat—plus coarse bread cut thick and lightly pan-toasted.
After placing the small pot of stew and the plate of bread on the little wooden table, Shaer wiped her hands on her apron, reached into her skirt pocket, and took out a pocket watch with a tarnished silver case.
This watch had appeared on her person when she arrived in this world. Its chain was nowhere to be found, and the case—once silver—had oxidized black. But since it kept time accurately, Shaer had kept it rather than pawn it.
For someone with a strong sense of time, a pocket watch like this was indispensable.
"Six twenty-nine… one minute early."
Perhaps her cooking proficiency had improved again—this time she'd finished dinner a minute earlier than usual.
A single minute wasn't enough to do anything proper. All she could do was watch time burn away second by second. The feeling of wasting it made Shaer a little anxious and uncomfortable.
"It's fine. Close my eyes and count down a minute; big sis should be back."
Shaer closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and let the seconds hand tick away in her palm.
59…
21…
1…
"Dong—dong—"
The giant clock tower standing over Clocktower Lane rang out, a bright peal reminding the district that it was now six-thirty in the evening.
At the same time, unusual clamor outside the door pulled her from her quiet focus.
"Dong—"
A heavy thud sounded, followed by a hoarse female voice tinged with anger.
"Get lost! Don't let me see you sneaking around my door again!"
Big sis is back?
Shaer stood and went to the window. Through a slit in the curtain, she looked outside.
A blonde figure stood with her back to Shaer at the foot of the steps. In front of that golden-haired back lay a lanky youth in a newsboy cap.
As the youth hit the ground, several more men in newsboy caps, black suspenders, and white shirts slipped out from all directions. A one-eyed, short man helped the fallen youth up.
Once he was on his feet, the youth immediately punched the one-eyed man who'd helped him and roared, "Damn it, you didn't think to say they were here?"
The one-eyed man shrank behind him with a timid look. The youth brushed dust from his clothes carelessly, then looked at the blonde woman and drawled:
"Liqi, what are you so worked up about? I'm just here to see my future wife."
At that flippant line, the men around him burst into laughter. Someone even whistled.
Liqi's fists clenched, the veins on her forehead about to bulge. But she seemed to remember something, exhaled long, and lowered her hands. Her voice was flat when she spoke:
"Scram, Ayan. If I see you here again, I'll rip your dog mouth to shreds."
With that, Liqi turned to leave, unwilling to waste another word.
"Tch." Ayan spat on the ground, glaring at her back. "Freak-faced monster."
His gaze flicked instinctively toward the window and caught the small red-haired figure peeking from behind the curtain.
"Shaer~" Ayan spread his arms dramatically and called toward the window, "Long time no see!"
The curtain snapped shut the next instant, but Ayan didn't seem to mind. He kept grinning and shouting as if no one else existed:
"I hear you graduate the day after tomorrow. Congrats! I'll be there at the ceremony too—get to know your little friends."
"Since you don't have family anyway, I can bring more of my buddies to back you up, hahahaha!"
The jeering laughter behind her jabbed into Liqi's brain like steel needles.
Rage shot from Liqi's chest straight into her skull. The face that looked as if it had been splashed with concentrated sulfuric acid twisted further.
She worked herself to the bone to send little Shaer somewhere better—fully away from Liqi and this whole social stratum, to meet better people.
If that thug really caused trouble at the graduation ceremony, what would Shaer's friends and teachers think of her? The network of friends her sister had worked so hard to build could be ruined in a single day.
Just as Liqi's hand closed around the small knife in her work trousers, the door opened. A small, pale hand took her arm and drew her into the house.
Read ahead and unlock 50+ upcoming chapters by joining [email protected]/rosavyn.
Chapter 2 — Death of the Future
"You're one minute late," Shaer said after locking the door again. She tugged Liqi toward the table. "The food's almost cold."
The hostility and violent tension outside were dispelled by her sister's gentle voice and the homey warmth of the room. The sudden swing of emotions left Liqi momentarily dazed.
She let Shaer guide her into a chair at the table. Only when Shaer pulled her hand back did Liqi look at the girl across from her and say:
"Shaer, don't worry. He won't cause a scene. Just attend your graduation properly."
"It's fine." Shaer shook her head. "Even if he comes, it won't affect anything."
"How could it not!" Liqi's fists tightened again. "That bastard will shout slanders everywhere and trash your reputation! It'll hurt your university interviews!"
"It's fine." Shaer dipped her chin slightly and jerked it toward the stew. "Eat."
"You… sigh…" Liqi still wanted to say more, but she shut her mouth, picked up a piece of bread, dipped it in the broth, and took a bite.
Her little sister might be small, but her mind was startlingly sharp and her tongue quick. If Liqi really argued, she would only be gently, methodically talked around. So she chose silence and ate.
Watching Liqi wolf down dinner, Shaer slowly sank into thought.
Liqi—the big sister who had relied on Shaer and whom Shaer had relied on since childhood.
They weren't related by blood, but they were closer than real sisters. Years ago, during an accident when a freight wagon tipped over, Liqi had shoved Shaer out of the way and taken a faceful of potion that fell from the cart.
It had burned her entire face and the left side of her scalp, leaving her as terrifying as a vengeful ghost. Both hands were flayed by the corrosive brew.
The burns impaired her dexterity. The petty, mean-spirited owner of the textile mill fired Liqi, and she ended up taking an even harsher, more exhausting job at a coal plant.
(Chapter 2 source text ends here.)
Support the translation and read the next 50+ chapters early at [email protected]/rosavyn.