I always thought my life was ordinary.
Getting married, having children, going to work, picking them up from school—
the same routine, day after day.
Nothing special, nothing wrong.
Until that day, I took the wrong road.
It was a road I had barely used, even though I had lived here for years.
At the end of it, there was a house.
Old, worn, and weathered—like it had been abandoned for a long time.
Yet, for some reason, I stopped walking.
I was sure—
I had never been here before.
But I felt like… I was supposed to go in.
The door wasn't locked.
The moment I pushed it open, I froze.
Inside—didn't look abandoned at all.
The lights were warm, the air was clean, and there was even a faint smell of home-cooked food.
It felt like… someone had been living here all along.
Like a home.
And more than that—
a home that felt strangely familiar.
My eyes fell on a small stool in the corner.
That stool… I was certain—
I had seen it before.
There was even an urge to take it home with me.
Just as I reached out—
A voice suddenly came from behind me.
"You're finally back."
It was gentle.
Too gentle to sound human.
My whole body went rigid.
Every instinct in me screamed:
Leave. Now.
But I couldn't move.
It felt as if something was holding my feet in place.
All I could do was watch—
As, from the depths of the house,
a woman slowly walked out.
She wore a cheongsam, her figure slender, her skin unnaturally pale.
Her features were so delicate, they didn't seem real.
She looked at me and smiled softly.
Then she said—
"This time… don't leave again."
Cold sweat broke out all over my body.
I didn't understand why she said, "This time, don't leave again."
But something deep inside me screamed—
If I didn't get out now, I would never leave this place again.
My children.
My husband.
The thought of them hit me all at once.
A surge of instinct—of motherhood—forced me to try to move.
I struggled, pushing with all my strength, trying to pull myself away from this place.
But my feet wouldn't budge.
It was as if something unseen was holding me down, controlling me.
"Sit."
Her voice was soft, yet it carried a strange authority.
Before I knew it, I was already sitting on the chair, facing her.
My hands trembled. My heart pounded so hard it hurt.
Even though fear was choking me, I forced myself to speak first.
"Miss… please… let me go home," I begged.
"My children are waiting for me… I still have to cook for them…"
My voice sounded small, almost broken.
But she didn't react.
Not even a little.
For a moment, the room fell into an unsettling silence.
Then, she spoke.
"My name is Ling."
Her voice was calm, almost distant.
"I've been in this place for a very long time…
A hundred years, perhaps. Or a thousand. I don't remember anymore."
My breath caught in my throat.
"Anyone who enters this house…" she continued slowly,
"…is here to face the debts they owe—from this life, and from the past."
"Only then can they cross the bridge…
or be sent down."
Her eyes lifted to meet mine.
"But that decision… is not mine to make."
My mind went blank.
Debts?
Past life?
Hell?
A chill ran down my spine.
I shook my head instinctively.
"I… I didn't do anything wrong," I said quickly.
"I never hurt anyone… I don't kill, I don't lie… I've never even harmed animals…"
My voice grew more desperate with every word.
"I shouldn't… go to hell."
The moment the words left my mouth—
She smiled.
Her smile was gentle, yet carried a chill, as if it pierced through the entire room.
"Don't worry," she said softly. "I won't hurt you… right away."
I trembled slightly, barely daring to breathe.
Ling walked slowly to the small stool, her fingers lightly brushing over the wood, as if awakening some forgotten memory.
"You feel a sense of familiarity when you see this stool, don't you?"
I nodded, unease bubbling in my chest.
"That's right," she whispered. "You've been here before… but it was a long time ago, and you've forgotten."
She turned to face me, her gaze deep and unfathomable, soft yet icy at the same time.
"Everyone who enters this place carries unfinished debts.
Some can return to continue their lives, while others… can never leave."
My whole body stiffened, fear and resentment rising in my chest.
"And me?" I almost whispered, pleading. "I haven't done anything wrong in this life… I shouldn't go to hell."
Ling shook her head gently, a trace of sorrow in her smile.
"The rules aren't as simple as you think.
The debts you owe… are not limited to this life.
I… am only here to help you see the truth."
I froze, my breathing rapid.
"The truth?" I almost begged. "Can I still go back? My children… my home…"
Her gaze softened, as if she were looking at a trapped child.
"Whether you can return… depends on whether you are willing to face the regrets of your past and present lives.
Are you… willing to face them?"
I shuddered, my heart pounding like thunder.
The air seemed to freeze. The only sound in the room was her gentle breathing…
I could only grit my teeth and answer, "I'm willing… please, let me face this life of mine."
Ling pulled out a piece of paper. It was covered in dense, intricate writing—symbols I didn't recognize.
Not English, not Chinese… something unknown, something alien.
Then, suddenly, she took out a small knife and instructed me to draw a bit of blood from my finger.
"It will prove your willingness to explore your past life," she said.
I pricked my finger and let a drop of blood fall onto the paper.
But… nothing happened.
I remained sitting in the same spot, the paper untouched, the symbols unchanged.
Ling's eyes widened in shock.
She muttered under her breath,
"How… how is this possible? Why… nothing happened?"
And then, almost trembling with excitement, she began asking me:
"My name… your birth date… everything. I can remember it."
I looked at her, confused. She fell silent for a long while.
Finally, she spoke, her voice low and thoughtful:
"Perhaps… in one of our past lives, we were connected.
I need to go back with you… to see what truly happened."
Ling firmly picked up the small knife and let her blood drip onto the paper.
The color of her blood was different from mine—deep black like ink—and instantly, the room filled with a thick metallic scent of blood.
I watched as our blood mingled on the paper, and suddenly, a blinding white light filled my vision.
Then, a cacophony of noises erupted around me, chaotic and loud, like the shouts and clamor of a bustling market.
I opened my eyes and found myself in the 1950s or 60s.
All the women around me wore cheongsams, and the streets were old yet lively.
I searched for Ling, wanting to ask the people around me what date it was, but no matter how I called, they couldn't hear me, and I couldn't touch anything.
Only then did I realize—I was in a spirit form.
I could float, move freely, but mortals could not see or hear me.
Suddenly, a young man with delicate, handsome features caught my attention.
Unconsciously, I followed him.
He stopped in front of a shop. Outside, many women dressed provocatively were calling out, enticing men to enter.
He paused at the doorway, and in an instant, countless women surrounded him and led him inside.
The woman at the front, the madam, stepped forward with a seductive smile:
"Master Lin, why hesitate at the door? The girls have been waiting for you so long. Come, let Sister Jade serve you~"
I floated in the air, my heart pounding, eyes fixed on the scene inside.
The young man—Lin Shao—looked handsome and composed, yet completely immersed in the atmosphere thick with desire.
The women circled him, their laughter, whispers, and scent of perfume mixing into a dizzying haze.
And I… could do nothing, unseen and unheard.
I scanned the room, searching for Ling.
Where was she? Why had she brought me here?
It felt as if some unseen force was keeping me linked to her, but her figure was still hidden in the shadows.
I drifted closer to Lin Shao, noticing a small motion—
he held a jade pendant in his hand, faintly glowing, as if signaling some vague familiarity.
My heart jumped. That pendant… I seemed to have seen it in a fragment of a forgotten memory.
Then, I saw a familiar figure—Ling, standing in the shadows, silently watching everything.
Her eyes were complex, gentle yet stern, as if waiting for a critical moment.
I realized… what she wanted me to see was not just Lin Shao's present, but the tangled threads connecting him, her, and me across past lives.
A gust of wind passed, and I floated closer, hearing Ling whisper softly:
"Watch carefully. All of this… is the continuation of the debts you owe."
A shiver ran through me.
I understood now—I had to uncover the truth, or I would never return to the real world, never protect my children and my home.
And Lin Shao, the jade pendant, and everything I saw before me… would be the key to unraveling the mysteries of my past life.