Chapter : speak several different universal languages (p.3): Pixies, Villas, and Problems Piling Up
Dinner ended, and Yòu'nà was escorted to her own small villa tucked away in the back of her grandmother's spirit garden.
On the way, she "borrowed" a few bottles of liquor and wine, already planning to make herself a drink.
Or maybe just finish a whole bottle of wine to herself.
She mused silently at the thought, lips quirking.
Yòu'nà entered her villa and instantly fell in love with the seductive nature of it. It was very much her style.
The lacey curtains draped like veils, black and gold sofas gleamed richly, and the whole place glowed under floating pixie lanterns.
"Pixies must've snuck in and made themselves at home in Grandmother's garden… and she just let them," Yòu'nà thought, amused.
Her gaze flicked upward, catching three fluffy little heads hiding on the ceiling fan above the hallway, exploring their new homestead.
Hmm. She'd ignore them—so long as they didn't disrupt her good time.
Yòu'nà was quite familiar with pixies. Cute and funny little things, though the downside? They could also be horny little peeping toms.
And then there was the myth that made them even creepier.
Pixies weren't actually tiny at all. That whole idea was a hoax, a misconception started nine hundred thousand years ago by the foolish Pixie Crown Prince.
The prince had done what no pixie should have: he fell in love with a fair maiden of the Griffin Clan.
But the Griffin maiden refused to marry him—not because she didn't like him, but because of his large, robust manliness. His muscular, perfectly sculpted physique was, in pixie culture, a blessed trait. A man like him was seen as able to "freeze" his woman in the bedroom, with stamina so high he could last through entire cycles of migration. His muscle veins even signified endurance and potency by their tone.
A rare, sought-out gift in their people.
But the maiden? She didn't want him. She thought he was weird. Too big. Too overwhelming. She liked small, cute things she could cuddle in her arms like a doll.
Which made no sense, considering she herself was a massive creature—even if she could shapeshift.
One night, drowning his sorrows in wine after being rejected, the prince stumbled drunkenly out of a tavern. He tripped, tried to catch himself, wings flapping too fast, and stirred up a cloud of dust. He fell straight into it, inhaled deeply—and instantly shrank into a tiny form.
On his way back to the kingdom, he ran into that same Griffin maiden.
This time, she fell in love with him at first sight. "So cute and cuddly!" she cried, scooping him up.
He had already decided the first time he laid eyes on her that she would be his. So he chose to remain in that tiny, pitiful form, just to please her.
Eventually, it killed him. He ascended the throne but died shortly after.
Thus was born The Tale of the Sad, Foolish Pixie Crown Prince.
Harsh name. Fitting ending.
Hehe.
Yòu'nà grinned to herself.
Actually, when she and Tammi were fourteen and sixteen in her last life, they'd once snuck into an ancient artifact auction. They'd stolen her grandmother's invitation card and disguised themselves.
Tammi wore her grandmother's heels, while Yòu'nà sat on his shoulders, using mimicry and copy magic to replicate her grandmother's body and face. When the auction required a magic signature scan, Yòu'nà had even forced her grandmother's signature on the screen, carving a forgery with her mana.
It had worked.
But not without days of planning, endless beatings from her grandmother, near-death experiences, and grueling training in arts and magic.
Still—it was worth it.
Because when they snuck into the VIP area, they found a black see-through cage filled with tiny, shrunken pixies.
Pixies crying for help.
The injustice lit a fire in Yòu'nà and Tammi both.
Without hesitation, they stole the cage and fled on her flying carpet companion, Dowdo. Once they reached the forest, Yòu'nà used her soul staff-dagger—something she was born with, a weapon capable of piercing almost anything—to break the locks.
And freed the pixies.
That was the first time she and Tammi truly met pixies.
The pixies, touched, showed them their realm. They gave them bags of pixie dust—the only key to open the gates. Throw the dust in the air, walk through, and the kingdom would reveal itself.
In the pixie realm, Yòu'nà and Tammi learned the truth: pixies weren't small at all. They were as tall as elves, muscular like were-kin, and devastatingly beautiful.
Their "tiny" forms? A side effect of inhaling pixie dust. A dangerous allergy that, if prolonged, could kill them.
And as for the crown prince—he hadn't just fallen in love. He had suffered gur'fid: a soul-bonding obsession with his lifemate. But the Griffin maiden had rejected the bond. He'd chosen to sacrifice himself, shrinking permanently.
That was why the council almost barred him from ruling. They knew his obsession had warped him. He even passed a law that whenever pixies left their world, they had to disguise themselves in shrunken form—claiming it was their true form, and their large one was only to intimidate enemies.
And the Griffin maiden? She believed him.
Sigh.
Love really was blind.
Yòu'nà chuckled.
That trip was also how Tammi met his fiancé—Soren, a pixie soldier.
She wondered if they'd married already.
Mhm.
Shrugging, she wandered into the master bedroom.
The room was captivating. Plush blood-red carpet patterned with black spots. A massive bed covered in black and red pillows, large enough to fit six of her side by side.
This was her place now.
The mana here was so dense it nearly choked her. Typical Grandmother, overdoing everything. But she remembered how greedy and massive her own mana reserves were—how much her priest spirit needed to fully awaken.
It wasn't ready yet.
Still injured from her last life's battle.
It surfaced occasionally but needed nourishment and time to recover.
Sigh.
As Yòu'nà settled in, she struggled to figure out the shower.
After digging through the memories of her reconnected soul piece, she finally figured it out, and gained a solid understanding of the world's technologies and systems.
And with that came a sobering realization: she had a lot more issues than she thought.
She cursed herself for not checking earlier, even when she was at the café.
She thought she'd had an understanding of her situation.
She didn't.
Her memories revealed she was now in her senior year at Kongge Magic and Technical Theories University.
A school for all magical beings across the world.
It was huge.
Larger than several cities combined.
Even long-term students had never fully explored it.
She marveled at the scale. How had they even fitted so many magical beings together peacefully?
But her memories reminded her of the laws in place. Magical beings could live alongside humans freely, so long as protections were upheld. Mortals had to be kept comfortable.
Magic wasn't used daily like in her last world, but it had practical uses—teleportation, containing magical beasts, transportation.
The university ran from ninth grade through four years of college.
Tsk.
In her last life, she never had to take classes again.
Her mother couldn't drag her to school with those noble brats and royal pigs. Not even Grandpa Wizard King could convince her—he had to call in her grandmother.
The compromise? A private tutor.
Not just anyone. The Wizard King's eldest daughter. The First Princess of Queen Meredith.
Cynthia Ezasel Xeniox.
A beautiful, psychotic learning maniac.
Yòu'nà bit her lip, heat pooling between her thighs.
Maybe she was a masochist.
But she could never forget Cynthia's slim waist, the perk of her breasts, the way her neck looked when she tucked her hair behind her ears.
Sigh.
She was still Yòu'nà's biggest woman crush.
Too bad she didn't like girls.
Not that Yòu'nà cared much about preference.
Turning the shower to ice-cold, Yòu'nà finished up quickly, then slipped into a robe without bothering to wear anything underneath. She planned to cultivate and sleep naked.
Knock. Knock.
Her door rattled.
It was Grandpa Ouyang Ningkai.
He had come to talk about a few pressing issues.
The popstar business. Anti-fans. Scheduled performances. Contracts. Press conferences.
"Granddaughter, we need to review the company your previous self signed with," he said. "If the contract isn't suitable, we can terminate. But you must be prepared to pay the difference."
Yòu'nà smirked. "Fine. I'll follow along for now. If things go wrong, I'll cut them loose. Simple."
Ningkai gave her a long look.
She waved him off, pouring herself a glass of stolen wine.
Tsk.
Trouble after trouble. All because of that cousin of hers.
Now she understood what her soul piece meant when it said: Good luck.
Sigh.
She wished she could just kill everyone who wronged her.
But this was a civil world—with laws against killing, and strict rules for magic use in public.
Unfortunately.