Pale Requiem: Transformed into a Girl

Chapter 18: The Future

Bai Lengci saw through Yu Chunqiu’s little scheme of “using a borrowed knife to knock at” Luo Nansheng’s mind as clearly as fire through glass.

She was not dull, she just found most things uninteresting and was too lazy to bother.

Helping others for pleasure?

That had never been her guiding principle.

But an exchange of interests? That was acceptable.

Otherwise, why would she show off her sharp edge in front of a beautiful stranger she had just met, even going so far as to provoke the other party with barbed words?

That was by no means a wise move, nor did it fit her usual principle of living low-key.

......

After returning home.

She went back to her bedroom and opened a book titled *Core Analysis of Key Points in the College Entrance Examination: History*.

At that moment, her mind seemed to be lifted by some invisible force into a vantage point overlooking everything.

The frameworks and rules inside the textbook appeared to her like children’s building blocks—clear in structure and equally clear in limitation.

She picked up her pen and began doing exercises.

Her speed was extremely fast, and her accuracy was very high.

But Bai Lengci stopped writing, leaned back against the chair, the wooden texture pressing faintly through her clothes.

Her gaze fell on a corner of the desk, where a sticky note was posted with the name of her target university and the estimated admission score line written in her own hand.

What was the future?

The answer to this question used to be very clear.

Get into a good university.

That was the first step, the ticket to break away from the orphanage background and gain the qualification to live independently.

Then to find a good job—stable, respectable, enough to cover the medical expenses her frail body required and a kind of life that did not demand her to look at people’s expressions.

And after that?

Perhaps marriage and children?

To find someone with a gentle temper, someone who could tolerate her weak health, and form a small family of her own.

A couple in love, supporting each other, spending their long yet fleeting lives in the ordinary smoke and fire of daily necessities, finally dying of old age in bed, surrounded by children and grandchildren.

A final destination belonging to ordinary people, with a touch of plain warmth.

This path was clear, safe, in line with social expectations, and had once been the only rope she could grasp to reach a normal life.

And now?

This script had been sealed.

She looked at her slender, distinct-jointed hands.

These hands, once pale with sickness and trembling faintly from long-term medication, were now steady, powerful, their skin delicate and perfect almost beyond reality.

They could easily perform fifty push-ups, could accurately manipulate complex physical formulas.

As for whether they would one day hold even greater functions, she did not know.

University entrance exams?

With her current superhuman learning ability and condition, perhaps it would be effortless.

But after that?

Integrate into a university campus?

Living day and night among young people who needed three meals a day, who fretted over romance, who brimmed with worldly longing for the future?

Work?

Nine to five?

Office politics?

Social obligations?

All these activities requiring her to integrate into the gears of a vast social machine would be no different from exposing herself beneath a spotlight.

A “colleague” who did not need to eat, with abnormally sharp senses?

It would not be long before she ended up in some laboratory.

As for marriage, children, marital love...

Bai Lengci’s lips curved down ever so slightly.

This body was female, and that was an unchangeable fact.

But she could not endure a man putting his hands all over her.

“Dying of old age”...

Even the phrase itself carried a sense of absurd irony.

She did not even know whether she could still be counted as “alive,” let alone “die of old age.”

Would she naturally grow old like ordinary people?

Or gain an extended life span, as in the legends?

Or perhaps… in some moment of unmet need, completely lose control, transform into something inhuman, and then be destroyed?

She had lost her direction.

Like a traveler who had wandered in the desert for years, finally seeing an oasis marked on the map, only to discover upon arrival that it was merely a barren alkaline wasteland carved out by wind and sand.

She stood up and walked to the window.

Outside was very bright.

......

Outside, the sky gradually darkened.

Bai Lengci walked into the kitchen.

There were still ingredients left in the fridge from yesterday.

She silently took out tomatoes, eggs, a small piece of pork tenderloin, and a few stalks of greens.

Her movements were nimble—washing vegetables, dicing, beating eggs, heating the pan, adding oil…

Soon, a plate of scrambled eggs with tomatoes, a dish of stir-fried greens, and a bowl of white rice were neatly set on the small dining table.

Under the lamp, the dishes looked exquisite.

Bai Lengci sat down, picked up her chopsticks.

She lifted a piece of egg coated in rich tomato juice and placed it in her mouth.

Her taste buds faithfully conveyed the layered flavor—sweet, sour, salty, and fresh, with a smooth texture.

Then.

She spat it out.

Looking at the steaming dishes still on the table, Bai Lengci’s eyes turned cold and weary.

She silently picked up the plates and dumped everything into the trash bin.

Then she put on her coat, pulled up the collar, and melted into the early winter night.

Without purpose, just walking aimlessly.

Passing through several quiet streets, she unknowingly arrived at a small park not far from home.

At the center of the park was a modest lake, and by the shore stood a lonely stone pavilion.

There was no one inside.

Bai Lengci walked over, sat down, and let her gaze fall upon the lake surface under the night.

There was no moonlight, only the faint halo of distant streetlights casting reflections on the water.

She watched quietly.

“Daddy! Daddy! Hurry up! My balloon’s going to fly away!”

A crisp, childish voice broke the stillness of the lakeside.

Bai Lengci turned her head slightly, following the sound.

At the entrance of the pavilion stood a little girl of about five years old.

She wore a white down jacket, a furry rabbit-ear hat, her small face red from the cold, clutching tightly a thin string at the end of which was tied a cartoon balloon.

The little girl was straining on tiptoe, peering eagerly toward the path behind her.

Seeming to notice someone in the pavilion, she turned her head curiously.

When her eyes landed on Bai Lengci’s face, those round, bright eyes instantly lit up with unhidden wonder and joy.

“Wow!”

The little girl forgot to call for her father. Her little mouth opened slightly, letting out a heartfelt exclamation.

“Big sister, you’re so pretty! Like… like the fairy princesses in cartoons!”

That childlike praise was so pure, without a trace of impurity.

Bai Lengci paused slightly.

Her lips lifted faintly, just a little.

She said nothing, only gave the little girl a gentle nod.

Just then, a refined-looking man hurried over, slightly out of breath, his face carrying both helplessness and indulgent affection.

He scooped the little girl up into his arms, playfully tapped her small nose.

“You little ancestor, running so fast—I almost couldn’t catch up.”

After soothing his daughter, he finally lifted his head, his gaze naturally landing on the only other person in the pavilion.

The moment he saw Bai Lengci’s face, the smile on his face stiffened visibly for an instant.

Quickly as it came, quickly it went.

The amazement in his eyes swiftly shifted into that particular adult expression—polite, restrained appreciation.

Holding his daughter, he gave Bai Lengci a slight nod, a proper smile touching his lips.

“Sorry, my child disturbed you.”

Bai Lengci’s gaze moved from the little girl to the man’s face.

She too gave a slight nod, a silent response to his courtesy.

No words, just a nod.

“Daddy, look, isn’t big sister so beautiful! Even prettier than Mommy, right?”

The little girl twisted in her father’s arms, pointing at Bai Lengci, continuing her innocent remarks without the slightest guile.

The man’s smile instantly grew a little awkward. He quickly covered his daughter’s small mouth gently, coaxing her softly: “Yao Yao, be good, don’t say things like that.”

He cast Bai Lengci another faintly apologetic glance, then, still soothing his daughter in a low voice, turned and quickly left the pavilion, walking toward the brighter lakeside path.

The little girl craned her neck in her father’s arms, trying hard to get another glimpse of that “fairy sister,” her balloon bouncing with her movements.

Bai Lengci quietly watched the figures of the father and daughter disappear along the roadside.