Central City, Zhao Group, top floor office.
Zhao Yicheng stood in front of the floor-to-ceiling windows, answering a call.
“Mm, mm, I know.”
“There will be time, mm.”
“Mother, goodbye.”
He hung up, turned around, and noticed that someone was already sitting up on the sofa.
“Awake?” He put down his phone, walked over, and gently patted her on the head.
“Are you hungry? What would you like to eat? I’ll order something for you.”
Xu Yinsheng had slept for six or seven hours, from morning all the way into the afternoon. If not for the fact that she was still breathing, Zhao Yicheng would have called the medical team already.
Xu Yinsheng looked up, her clear eyes carrying a hint of confusion. Right in front of the man, she couldn’t help but let out a burp, utterly losing her composure.
This posture was just too embarrassing. Xu Yinsheng hurriedly covered her face with her hands.
But in the man’s eyes, her actions were nothing short of adorable.
“No need, I don’t feel hungry.” Xu Yinsheng rubbed her stomach.
Perhaps it was some unseen law of Heaven and Earth at work—after being summoned by someone, she not only didn’t feel hungry, but was full of energy, her whole body brimming with strength, as if she could party for three days and three nights without stopping.
Zhao Yicheng smoothed her fine hair, his fingertips brushing across her cheek, cool and gentle.
“My Mother has returned to the country.”
“Ah?” Xu Yinsheng was startled.
“She wants to meet you.”
“Ah!”
Late at night.
Snow was falling gently, the streets almost empty, cars hurrying past.
In the Villa District of Central City, in a room inside a villa.
Xu Yinsheng leaned back in a computer chair, wearing black-and-white cow-pattern pajamas, her long hair still a bit damp, clearly having just bathed.
At this moment, instead of playing computer games as usual, she was solemnly holding a battered pencil. Lifting her arm, she held it upright, the tip touching a blank sheet of paper, eyes closed, and chanted:
“Pencil Spirit, Pencil Spirit, you are my past life, I am your present life. If we are fated, please draw a circle on the paper!”
“Pencil Spirit, Pencil Spirit, you are my past life, I am your present life. If we are fated, please draw a circle on the paper!”
“Pencil Spirit, Pencil Spirit, you are my past life…”
In less than a few seconds, a faint, indistinct woman’s voice drifted to Xu Yinsheng’s ears—hazy, but hauntingly pleasant to hear.
Boom!
In the next moment, her perspective soared as if her soul had left her body, floating above her own head, gazing down at her motionless form.
“It actually works?!”
“So the theories on that certain website aren’t just made up.”
Xu Yinsheng’s soul—or perhaps her conscious form—nodded.
“Summoning myself, answering my own questions… I finally have my own true golden finger!”
She sensed the connection between her soul and her body. There was some barrier, but faintly, an invisible link remained.
Xu Yinsheng glanced at her physical body. Suddenly, her body opened its eyes, but they were lifeless, like a puppet under someone else’s control, and spoke stiffly:
“Pencil Spirit Xu Yinsheng, will the meeting with Zhao Yicheng’s Mother go smoothly?”
The pencil tip trembled, its lead scraping against the paper. At the same time, countless colorful, fragmented images flooded Xu Yinsheng’s mind—cafés, Zhao Yicheng, herself, and Zhao Yicheng’s Mother…
Xu Yinsheng frowned slightly.
This had never happened before. Was this a side effect of summoning herself?
She simply cleared her mind, closed her eyes, and let her soul-controlled body handle it.
Very soon, when she opened her eyes again—
Two simple characters appeared on the paper, neat and elegant.
Smoothly.
Xu Yinsheng nodded.
The experiment worked. Time for the next question.
“Pencil Spirit, Pencil Spirit, tell me how to resolve my Shapeshifting Ability.”
So far, Xu Yinsheng’s misfortunes were split fifty-fifty: half from Zhao Yicheng, half from the Shapeshifting Ability. If it weren’t for the gender swap and a certain perverted ‘good brother,’ she’d never have ended up like this.
If she could do it over, Xu Yinsheng would never have talked big online.
Soon, under her expectant gaze, the pencil tip fell, blood-red words appearing on the paper—but after just a single red dot, the pencil stopped moving.
“What’s going on?”
Xu Yinsheng’s floating soul drifted closer, but the pencil in her palm began to shake violently, as if two mighty forces were pulling at it.
Crack!
The pencil broke.
The tip snapped off, the lead shattering into countless fragments, scattering across the paper.
Xu Yinsheng’s soul watched this scene, her brows knitting together as unease crept into her heart.
Boom!
A bolt of lightning suddenly tore through the sky, lighting up the night. The gentle snowfall outside had become a blizzard. In that moment, Xu Yinsheng seemed to hear a voice answering her from the depths of Heaven and Earth.
“Out of bounds?”
“Then I’ll change the question.”
Her soul floated in the air, directing her body to pull another pencil from the pocket of her pajamas. This was the pencil used when Jiang Shimo and the others had summoned the Pencil Spirit before, and for some reason, Xu Yinsheng had taken it home.
This time, she went straight to the point, ignoring the Shapeshifting Ability.
“Pencil Spirit, Pencil Spirit, tell me the whereabouts of the Vine God.”
As long as she found the source, the Shapeshifting issue would surely be solved!
The window creaked, wind and snow howled, thunder roared, the moon seemed to darken, and eerie green tendrils hung from above.
Crack!!
The pencil exploded!!
Countless shards mixed with black lead fragments burst into dust, filling the room.
It felt as if some invisible force in the void kicked Xu Yinsheng’s soul straight back into her body.
This time, there was not even the faintest reply from Heaven and Earth, as if she had touched upon some taboo.
“Hiss!” Xu Yinsheng rubbed her dizzy head, feeling as if her body had been hollowed out.
“No way! That’s a bust, then I’ll try something else!” She yanked open a drawer and pulled out another pencil.
“Pencil Spirit, Pencil Spirit… how can I kill Zhao Yicheng.”
Her soul hovered in midair, her body gripping the pencil. Xu Yinsheng stared unblinkingly at herself.
Even if the Shapeshifting Ability couldn’t be resolved, as long as Zhao Yicheng was gone, she could go back to her good old life—even if it meant not being a playboy, she could become a rich heiress!
Two or three minutes passed. Xu Yinsheng felt like the lights in the room had gotten brighter. The pencil in her hand touched down, rose again, and drew… a half-circle, half-cross.
“What does that mean?” Xu Yinsheng was puzzled, and then that mysterious voice from Heaven and Earth answered in her ear.
Answer: Omitted.
Damn!
After cursing inwardly, Xu Yinsheng thought about it and understood why. As her future self had said, all her current forms—except for the still-unlocked Dream Demon Form—had little chance of affecting Zhao Yicheng.
Once more, she directed her body to ask her last question.
“Will I ultimately be able to break free from Zhao Yicheng and gain the freedom I desire?”