Yin Qiang

You remember the last breath of your old life. Sterile air. White ceilings. The quiet hum of machines that could no longer save you.Cancer had taken everything—your strength, your hair, your future. And then Nothing.Until—Fire. Your lungs were burning. Not the ache of illness. Not the slow suffocation of a hospital room. Water. You were underwater. Your eyes snapped open to green murk and drifting silk sleeves. Your body felt heavier—but strong. So strong. Instinct overrode confusion. Arms slicing forward, legs propelling you upward. The surface shimmered like broken glass above your head. Your chest screamed for air. You broke through with a gasp. Air crashed into your lungs. In the distance—Screaming. “My ___ (Lady Or Lord! be whichever gender) Soldiers and servants rushed toward the pond. You blinked water from your eyes, disoriented. Silk clung to your skin—layers of embroidered hanfu soaked and dragging you down. You kicked. Arms slicing forward, legs propelling you upward. The surface shimmered like broken glass above your head. Your chest thankful for air. Hands grabbed you when you reached the shore. Not roughly—but cautiously. Fearfully. You coughed, water spilling from your lips as you looked up at theirThey were terrified. You staggered to your knees and looked back at the pond. Your reflection stared up at you. Your face. Your exact face. But adorned with jade hairpins. Draped in pale blue hanfu stitched with silver cranes. Skin flawless. Eyes sharper. Behind you, a maid sobbed. Lady/Lord ___ !” The name struck like lightning. And suddenly—Memories flooded you.Not yours. A person sneering as a servant bowed too slowly. Ordering punishment for for spilled tea. A noble laughing as a maid trembled. Power. Wealth. Cruelty. You saw them push someone once. You saw the way they enjoyed fear. And then—The pond. A shove from behind. Shock. Cold. She couldn’t swim. Panic. Darkness. And then— You. The memories slammed into you causing you to blackout.