The moment Elder Shen shuffled out of the cave with the empty water skin, Bai Qinglan let out a long, shaky breath she hadn't realized she was holding. The cave fell quiet again, save for the soft crackle of the dying embers and the distant rustle of leaves outside. She lay back on the pile of rough furs, staring up at the jagged stone ceiling as if it could give her answers.
But answers were the last thing she got.
Instead, the memories slammed into her like a flood breaking through a dam.
It started with the penthouse. The cold bite of marble against her knees. Meilan's triumphant little laugh—the same one she used to make when they were kids stealing cookies from the kitchen. Lin Hao's bored shrug, like her death was just another line item on a spreadsheet. The poison had burned hotter than fire, spreading through her veins while her own sister watched with those satisfied eyes. "You always had everything, sister. Now we're just… balancing the scales."
Qinglan's chest tightened so hard she had to press a hand over it. "I built that company from nothing," she whispered into the empty cave, voice cracking. "I covered for both of you. I forgave every mistake. And you killed me for it."
The images kept coming, faster now, mixing with fragments that didn't belong to her old life at all.
A small, dirty-faced girl—no older than fourteen—hiding in river reeds while massive paws shook the ground nearby. The original owner of this body had watched her parents die to a wild boar attack when she was barely old enough to walk. Then came years of scraping by on scraps, always pretending to be weaker than she was so no one would look at her twice. Hunger. Fear. Loneliness so deep it had carved itself into these fragile bones.
Tears slipped down Qinglan's cheeks before she could stop them. She wiped them away angrily, but her hands—thin, trembling, with dirt under the nails—felt foreign. In her past life she had manicured nails and a firm handshake that closed multimillion-dollar deals. Here? She could barely sit up without the world spinning.
She forced herself to stand anyway.
The cave tilted. Her knees buckled after only three shaky steps toward the entrance. She caught herself on the rough wall, gasping as pain shot through her legs. Every muscle screamed. Her lungs burned like she had run a marathon instead of crossing a few meters of stone floor. This body was nothing but skin stretched over weak bones—fifteen winters old at most, and it felt like it had never known a full meal or a single day without fear.
"How am I supposed to survive like this?" she muttered bitterly, sliding back down to the furs. "In a world full of wolves and pythons and eagles that can rip someone apart without trying?"
The contrast hit her harder than the memories. She had been powerful once. Respected. Feared in boardrooms. Now she was prey in a savage land where females were either worshipped like goddesses or claimed like property. One wrong move and she'd be handed over to the first strong beastman who caught her scent.
But something else stirred too—that strange, warm pull deep in her chest. It had started as a faint drumbeat yesterday. Today it felt stronger, like a second heartbeat tugging her toward the forest beyond the village. Toward someone. She didn't know who, only that the feeling both terrified and steadied her at the same time.
"I refuse to die quietly again," she whispered fiercely, clenching her small fists until her knuckles turned white. "Not here. Not like this. I have knowledge they've never dreamed of—clean water tricks, simple medicines from herbs, ways to grow food that actually works. I'll hide my mind, play the weak little orphan, and survive until I can stand on my own."
She touched the place over her heart where the mysterious pull thrummed. "Whoever you are… whatever this bond is… I won't let it control me either. I've been betrayed once. Never again."
Footsteps approached the cave entrance again—slow, familiar ones this time.
"Little one?" Elder Shen called softly. "I brought more water and a bit of dried meat. You should eat something before the sun climbs higher."
Qinglan quickly lay back down and pulled the fur over her shoulders, making herself look as small and helpless as possible. "Thank you, Elder," she answered in the same weak voice she had used before. "I'm… still so tired."
The old man stepped inside, his sharp eyes scanning her face for a moment longer than usual. He set the food down beside her and lowered his voice. "The village is restless today. Word came that Wolf Clan scouts were seen near the river at dawn. They're looking for something unusual. I don't want them finding you yet. You're too frail to be noticed."
Qinglan's heart gave a hard thud. The pull in her chest flared brighter for just a second, as if answering the mention of the Wolf Clan.
"Wolf Clan?" she repeated softly, pretending the name meant nothing even though the borrowed memories screamed warnings.
Elder Shen nodded grimly. "Their Alpha doesn't take kindly to loose treasures. Stay hidden, Qinglan. Eat. Rest. And remember what I told you—cleverness keeps you alive longer than strength ever could in this world."
He patted her shoulder once, gently, then turned and left.
Alone again, Qinglan stared at the small strip of dried meat in her hands. The memories of her old life and this new one kept crashing together like two rivers meeting—pain, betrayal, hunger, and a burning will to live that refused to die.
She took a small bite, chewing slowly.
This frail body might be all she had right now.
But she would make it strong enough.
She had to.
Outside, the distant sound of heavy paws crunching through the underbrush grew just a little closer, and the mysterious pull inside her chest answered with a single, steady beat.
The Beast Realm was already watching.