The Ming mansion was a twenty minute ride from Mingde High on a good day. Zi Han made it in seventeen, standing up on the pedals for the last hill, her pink bicycle cutting a cheerful, slightly absurd figure against the wide, grey paved streets of the neighborhood. She had inherited the bicycle along with the body, and her complicated family situation. The original Zi Han had owned it since middle school, and it was slightly too small for her now, but it worked, and Zi Han had no complaints.
Besides, the alternative was waiting for the Ming family car.
Ever since Ming Ye had made his feelings about her mother, and by extension Zi Han herself, perfectly clear, the household had quietly arranged itself around that tension. The car left at a time that suited Ming Ye. Zi Han had simply stopped being in it. She suspected nobody had noticed, and she preferred it that way. Seventeen minutes on a bicycle with the wind in her face was infinitely better than twenty minutes of suffocating silence in the back seat of a luxury car, staring out a window and pretending not to exist.
The Ming mansion was quiet when she returned.
She left her bicycle at the side entrance and followed the smell of food to the dining room, where the table had already been laid with sweet and sour ribs, braised vegetables, and a light soup still steaming gently at the center.
Her mother, Yi Ran, the original Zi Han's mother, was already seated, scrolling through her phone with a focused expression as if she were reading something important, though in Zi Han's limited experience it was never anything important. She did not look up when Zi Han entered.
This was the second time she was seeing Yi Ran since she had taken over this body. The first was on the day she had reincarnated into this world. She had still been disoriented, still trying to piece things together, when Yi Ran came in rambling about how all her, Zi Han's, clothes looked old and unfit for their new status and about the need to change her wardrobe. Of course, the next day three maids came into the room carrying boxes of branded clothes.
Yi Ran was not necessarily a really bad mother; she was just… neglectful in a sense, emotionally at least. She was present in the ways that were easy and absent in the ways that required effort.
"You're back," Yi Ran said, without looking up.
"Mhm," Zi Han hummed softly and took her seat.
Ming Chen was not home. That was normal.
His schedule rarely aligned with family meals. As for Ming Ye, well…
She glanced at his empty chair and felt something in her shoulders relax.
She didn't want to know wherever he was. It was better that he was not here; otherwise, she wasn't sure she would be able to swallow her food.
Zi Han lowered her head, and her mouth watered at the smell of the sweet and sour ribs Aunty Ke had made. She picked up her chopsticks, lifted a piece of food, and put it in her mouth. A burst of flavor filled her taste buds.
If anyone could see her eyes at this moment, they would see the stars shining in them.
This is so good, so much better than eating noodles, she thought as she plopped another piece into her mouth. Then another. The ribs were sticky and perfectly balanced, sweetness giving way to a clean, bright tang that made her want to close her eyes. Aunty Ke, she decided, was a genius, a genius she might kidnap once she goes overseas.
By the time she set down her chopsticks, she was thoroughly, deeply satisfied in a way that she could not remember feeling in a very long time.
She stood, thanked Aunty Ke on her way past the kitchen doorway, and climbed the stairs with one hand resting lightly on her stomach, sighing in deep contentment.
This was fine. She could work with this. Good food, a quiet house, four months until the exams—
As she walked up the staircase, she heard footsteps.
Zi Han's hand paused on the banister.
She had approximately two seconds to decide whether to speed up, slow down, or simply turn and go back downstairs and claim she had forgotten something. In those two seconds, she calculated the distance, the angles, and the very high probability that any of these options would look exactly as strange as they were.
She kept climbing.
Ming Ye appeared at the top of the staircase. He had changed out of his school uniform. He was now wearing a white shirt, blue jeans, and a black jacket slung over his shoulder. His expression was relaxed, with a small smile on his lips; however, that smile made the surrounding space feel suffocating.
He glanced at her briefly.
Zi Han held her breath, then realized how unnecessarily fearful she was. She nodded politely and moved to walk past him.
Ming Ye did not move aside.
She stopped.
The hallway was wide enough. He was simply choosing not to move. He was looking at her again with attention, as if he were scrutinizing her, waiting for her to slip up.
Move, she thought, already getting annoyed. Just move. This is a hallway. Hallways are for walking through. Nobody stands in a hallway.
"You seem different," he said in a low baritone voice.
Zi Han felt her heart pound rapidly against her chest.
Different. He thought she seemed different. They had exchanged fewer than twenty words since she had arrived in this body. He had no meaningful basis for comparison, and yet somehow this was the first complete sentence he had chosen to say to her.
Is he a dog? she thought, genuinely curious. Who notices something like that? Who says something like that?
"What do you mean?" she asked. Her voice came out even. She was proud of that.
He stared at her deeply, causing Zi Han to involuntarily shiver. Then he smiled again.
"Hmm. Maybe I was wrong."
Then he stepped aside.
Zi Han walked past him and kept her gaze forward, even though she could feel his piercing stare.
Only after closing her bedroom door did she realize her palms were slightly damp. She pressed her back against the door, stared at the ceiling of the room that was hers, and took a deep breath.
What the hell just happened?!