I don't know when I drifted to sleep last night but it was hectic day.
When I opened my eyes again, the room felt different. The air was heavy with smoke, and the faint smell of burning herbs tickled my nose.
My first thought? *Someone set the kitchen on fire.*
But no. This wasn't the smell of aloo parathas gone wrong. This was… incense.
A man dressed in strange robes stood in the middle of the room, swinging a bundle of smoking sticks and muttering in a low chant. His beard was long enough to have its own personality, and his eyebrows were so thick they could have been painted on.
Behind him, my "mother" and the maid Xiaomei were watching anxiously. My three oh-so-handsome "brothers" hovered at the door like bodyguards.
"What's happening?" I croaked. My voice sounded weak, even to myself.
Nobody answered. The robed man raised his hand dramatically and declared,
"This girl has been touched by a restless spirit!"
My jaw dropped. *Excuse me? Restless spirit? Bhai, I'm not possessed, I'm jetlagged!*
I sat up quickly, waving my hands. "No, no, no! I'm fine! Look—see? Totally normal!"
I didn't notice but somehow I was now speaking in Chinese.
The shaman ignored me. Of course he did. He pulled out a stack of yellow papers with symbols scribbled all over them and slapped one onto my forehead.
I froze.
Was this man… was this man sticking a *Post-it note* on me?!
The "mother" gasped and clutched her chest. My brothers leaned in, tense. Xiaomei squeaked like a terrified mouse.
Meanwhile, I was sitting there with a piece of paper glued to my forehead like some kind of ancient WiFi antenna.
And that's when I realized—if they thought I was possessed, things were only going to get worse.
Panic settled in. I didn't know what was going to happen to me. They couldn't understand a single word I said, and I couldn't explain myself. My throat tightened, and I was on the verge of crying.
Then I remembered the novel I had been reading-the female lead in that story started speaking fluent Chinese automatically after transmigration.
A crazy thought struck me. Maybe I can, too.
Gathering every ounce of courage, I tried to speak in Chinese to my so-called mother.
"Mother, I'm afraid... and my head is hurting. Please help me. Brother, please, I don't want to be treated by this man."
The room went completely silent. Everyone froze.
Every single person was staring at me in shock-including me.
Because that was the first full sentence I had spoken in Chinese... in the entire past day.