Zhao Mingyao
Li Xiulan struggled to care for the fatally injured Zhao Mingyu. All she could do was try to keep him comfortable through the night, hoping that, at dawn, she could find a physician. The first thing she did was remove his cold, wet garments, fearing they might worsen his condition.
The arrow was still lodged in his back on the left side, but she didn't know how to deal with it.
She tried to remove the arrow, but the action seemed to only worsen Mingyu's condition, so she left it alone, only breaking off the tail end of the arrow but leaving enough length for a skilled physician to handle.
She started a fire close enough to warm him as he shivered uncontrollably. For a while, it seemed to work, but the cold overtook him again, and she didn't know what else to do. Her own clothes were just as cold, offering no better protection. With no other choice, she did what she had to do.
Lifting the crown prince's body, she lay beneath him, naked, wrapping him in her embrace to warm him with her own body heat. This worked, but it made her painfully self-conscious.
For the first time, she found herself looking at the crown prince as more than her master or brother. His body was undeniably masculine and, in a way, erotic. She saw him not just as the crown prince but as a man—and herself as a woman. She had bathed him countless times as his attending maid, but this moment felt different. She pushed the thoughts aside.
What mattered now was that he survived the night. Holding her breath, she waited for dawn to come. Exhausted, she eventually fell asleep too.
Her sleep didn't last long. She awoke to unbearable heat radiating from the body above her. Alarmed, she opened her eyes, intending to tend to the crown prince's fever, but instead, her vision was blinded by a bright, luminous figure.
The crown prince's body was engulfed in a radiant, otherworldly glow that lasted for what felt like 100–200 breaths. Fear gripped Xiulan. Was this the gods coming to take her crown prince away? Tightening her embrace, she ignored the growing heat and held on as the glow intensified.
Finally, the blinding light faded. The first sensation she noticed was something soft and cushion-like pressing against her chest. When her eyes adjusted, she was greeted by a face she hadn't seen in a long time—or rather, a younger version of it.
"Your Majesty?"
Mingyu slowly opened his eyes. His body felt strange, and a wave of disorientation washed over him. This wasn't like the recurring nightmares he had come to expect—it felt too vivid, too real.
After the arrow struck him, his vision went dark and his body gave out. He was back in that bleak world, but instead of the usual dilapidated house he was used to finding himself in, he stood in front of a large lake with what seemed to be a well at its center. A ghostly figure sat there, amused, gesturing for him to walk to her.
Mingyu didn't know what to do, but his body moved toward her without him realizing it. Before he knew it, he was walking on water, the surface rippling with every step, but he didn't fall or sink. It was as if he was on solid land. Slowly but surely, he walked toward her, but with each step, the level of the lake seemed to get lower and lower, and with each drop, the woman taunted him.
When he finally arrived, the water level was far below that of the well. The two, who had been at the same level a moment ago, were now separated by a vast difference in height. The ghostly sister now looked down at Mingyu, and for the first time that day, she spoke.
"With each drop of the lake, the closer to death you get, and the closer you get, the more your body becomes mine."
As soon as those words landed, Mingyu was thrust into action. He didn't know how, but he understood that if he jumped into the well before the lake dried, he would be safe. So he readied himself and started climbing the stone walls of the well. At first, the climb was easier than expected, but as he continued, his body grew heavier and heavier. Each step up became monumentally harder, but he persevered, racing against the drying lake. The sister watched him, waiting for her moment.
Finally, the ground became visible, and the lake was no more than the size of a puddle.
Luckily, Mingyu had also reached the top of the well. The sister jumped into the well, but so did Zhao Mingyu. That was when he woke up, disoriented.
The body he woke up in seemed very different and awkward compared to the one he was used to. His arms felt slender and weaker, his hair longer, and his chest heavier.
"Your Majesty!"
Those were the first words a naked Xiulan greeted him with, and as a reflex, he let out a startled "Ah," about to ask why Xiulan was naked and why she referred to him as "Your Majesty" instead of "Your Highness" or "My Prince," as she usually did. But the feminine voice that came out of his mouth stopped him in his tracks.
He tried speaking again, just saying a jumbled string of nonsense to confirm what his ears were hearing. It still came out the same—a very melodious feminine voice had overridden his usual masculine one.
"Xiulan, what is going on?"
Before she could respond, Mingyu's eyes landed on the two full 'melons' on his—her—naked body. Quickly, his hands instinctively went to his groin area, searching for his sacred treasure, but that too was missing.
"Xiulan, what the hell! Where did my man parts go?"
Xiulan stared at the naked woman in front of her, puzzled, her mind still trying to process what was going on.
"My Prince?" she finally asked.
"Who else would I be, Xiulan? What happened?"
Xiulan ignored Zhao Mingyu and started to examine his—her—body.
"Your wounds—they're gone!" Xiulan exclaimed.
"Wounds? What wounds?"
Then the memory came back. He had been shot in the back by the 4th Prince's men, but the wounds had magically disappeared along with his man parts. What type of magic is this? he thought.
As if to answer his question, a voice similar to the one he'd heard before spoke directly into his head.
"How do you like your new body?"
"Who is there?" Zhao Mingyu asked, startled.
"Your Highness!"
"Xiulan, did you hear that?"
"Hear what?" Xiulan responded, confused.
"Unfortunately, I am you, so nobody else can hear us. The body switch wasn't fully successful, but how do you like your new look?"
"Ghost sister?" Zhao Mingyu asked.
The only reply he got was a slight chuckle before the voice told him, "Talk to you soon, Zhao Mingyu," and then went silent.
Zhao Mingyu was pretty sure who the voice was, so he didn't want to think about it more than necessary.
"So, what do we do now, Your Highness?"
"We will head back to Xianyang City. We need to pay back the Fourth Prince as much as we've received."
"What about your situation, my Prince? Or should I refer to you as my Princess now?" Xiulan asked, a smirk forming on her face.
"I will figure out how to get my original body back, but for now, this body will not be referred to as Prince Zhao Mingyu, but as Lady Zhao Mingyao."
"As you wish, my Prince—I mean, my Lady."
