Just stories written while im on the toilet or in the restroom in general

Mathilde's pale blue eyes opened, she found herself laying in bed in nothing but her underwear, her thumb in her mouth and other arm outstretched, holding onto the edge of the bed; her long, silvery hair was spread out messily, the cold air bit at the surface of her skin. With only a thin, silk-like blanket to keep warm. 

From here, Mathilde could see him--Angel--in front of his easel and canvas. She closed her eyes and sighed in relief. It was just a dream... Slowly, Mathilde sat up, clutching on the blanket close to her chest, her back and legs felt stiff. 

The room was almost dead silent; the only noise being the pattering of the rain outside, and the sound of Angel's pencil grazing on the surface of the canvas. "Good morning." he said, not taking his eyes off the canvas.

She managed to muster up a soft "Morning." before lifting her feet up and slipping out of bed. Her eyes scanned the room which was quite small; one bed and a small nightstand next to it where her phone was sitting. It was quite dark with the curtains obscuring the small window next to the AC unit--made her wonder how the hell Angel was able to still paint. Next to the bathroom door was a small pink chair, probably the only piece of furniture in this dull room with colors.

Then her gaze landed on the crimson shard attached to the silver chain of his necklace. From where she was standing she could still hear the faint yet blood curdling wails and cries emanating from the crystal, ever so haunting that it chills even her to the core. Mathilde almost tripped, dragging her feet along the cold tiles as she ambled up to the bathroom door. 

Hesitantly turning the knob, she took one more glance at Angel before stepping right in; the cold dispersed, replaced by a more humid and warm air that filled the bathroom. She frowned hearing running water and inched closer to the sink to turn it off. 

Mathilde sighed to herself. She didn't bother turning on the lights as the light coming from the small window was adequate enough for her. She leaned over to the bathroom mirror, her knuckles going white as she clenched the edge of the sink tightly and stared at her reflection, her hand unconsciously slipped off the straps and now running down her chest, clung onto the center gore of her bra, pulling it down. She turned slightly, examining the two long, parallel scars that snaked down her back. Quite unusual looking scars, an odd mixture of bright white and light pink. The skin around the scar was also slightly discolored, suggesting that it did not heal properly. Mathilde unclenched one of her hands from the sink and lightly brushed it down the scar, tracing the line slowly with the tips of her fingers.

Mathilde sighed and averted her gaze from the mirror, biting her lip. How long has it been? Centuries since she's gotten those scars, yet she's still unable to look at it for longer than a minute. She hung her head, the guilt, shame and remorse washed over her.

She studied her features for another minute--dark circles under those almond-shaped pale blue eyes, tangled silver hair that cascaded down her shoulders. She was certainly thinner than before and her skin was paler than ever--it's as if she was dying. 

Everyday, it was somehow the same... the same thoughts filled her head to the brim, how and why she couldn't exactly comprehend. As a higher being she shouldn't even be feeling this way. Perhaps it could be the amount of time spent living among them--a hundred years maintaining the facade of a regular human being--now they are starting to get to her, she felt more sorry than ever. Sorry for them, sorry for the angels... sorry for myself...

Mathilde brushed it off and proceeded to turn on the tap and once the tub was half full, dipped right in until the water went past her shoulders. She looked up, her face blank as ever--the stillness and quiet was soothing. There was a light knock on the door, she heard Angel's voice from the other side. "Are you done yet?"

"Almost." she answered, not moving from this spot. She closed her eyes, letting herself sink in a  little more. Maybe for a little while longer, she simply wanted to drift away. The sound of rain grew louder and the light from the window became more faint, indicating a storm was coming soon

Mathilde wasn't sure for how long she's been submerged, she felt the pressure growing even stronger on her chest, the water suffocating all around her body but she didn't even flinch. It was when she opened her eyes, though quite blurry she could see someone standing next to the tub. She gripped the sides of the tub and pulled herself out, gasping as she took in a deep breath of air.

A towel landed on her face, she brushed it aside and looked up at him--Angel. "How long have you--"

"Just now." He said and leaned closer, looking her dead in the eye. "No matter how hard you try, you can't... nothing on this earth will be able to even come close to killing you--not me, not yourself."

Her head lowered, looking at the towel in her hands, the edges now dipped into the water. "I wasn't trying to--"

Angel laughed cutting her off. "Don't think I haven't noticed... you have been acting strangely as of late. Curious, what have you been thinking of?"

Her body tensed. The rain filled in the gaps of silence before she parted her lips and spoke softly. "There is nothing wrong." she gazed upon the towel in her hands. "I'm fine."

Suddenly he put his fingers on her chin, getting her head to perk up and face him. "Get yourself together, we leave early." he finished before standing up and walking to the door. "Don't forget what you promised him... or more importantly--" He paused before stepping out of the bathroom. "--what you promised me."

In the present day an eccentric artist and his muse moves in to the small, quiet town of Chapter Park where they find that they're not the only ones with dark secrets.

Noah takes the painting and place it on the easel then he grab my hand and take a deep breath. 

"I don't know how to describe everything but I'll just show you, ok?" 

"Ok. . " 

He touch the canvas and step into the painting. That's something that I've never seen before. I hold his hand tightly and step into the painting. We stand inside a room with a single painting on the wall. I look around, everything looks real. I touch the wall and I can feel that it's a real wall, a solid wall then I try to jump several times to make sure the floor is not fake and it's real. I never knew that there's a dimension beyond a painting and this is my first time entering the space.  

"Where are we?" 

Noah is walking to the corner of the room and take the package that he threw then he walks back to me. 

"We are in the other side of the painting. This one is called the 'Qiophaire' dimension."

"Qioph- what?" 

"Qiophaire. It's the name of the dimension. If you look around, there is no door or window. It's just a room with a single painting on the wall." 

"Why?" 

"Because I create every details in the room. It was an empty space before but I have the power to make a new place inside the dimension." 

"And how do we get out from here?" 

"That painting on the wall is our way out." 

I walk closer to the painting on the wall and realize that it's a painting of the art room in the university. Everything doesn't make sense. It's not real. Maybe I'm still sleeping and I'm having a dream about going to a dimension through a portal and the portal is a painting on a canvas. It's time to back to reality so I close my eyes then I pinch my arms to wake me up.

"Wake up, Sera. Wake up." 

I open my eyes and I can see Noah standing in front of me, looking at me with a puzzled look. 

"What?" 

"It's real, Sera. You're not dreaming and you are 100% conscious." 

"No, no, no. You're joking. Maybe you're a fake too, I'm in my dream, everything is not real." 

Noah pulls my body closer to him and he lands a kiss on my lips. I push him away and step back immediately. 

"What was that for?" 

"I need to prove it to you that it's real."

There must be a scientific explanation about this then I will believe it. I walk to the painting and try to touch the canvas and nothing happens.

"Get me out of here." 

Noah throw the box away then he grabs my hand, touch the canvas and step out the painting with me. Once I'm back at the art room, I run out of the art room and rush to the women's bathroom. I wash my face and try to understand the reality. I take my phone and look for any information about dimension beyond a painting and there is only one website that explain about another dimension but it's not a dimension inside a painting. I try to calm down then I leave the bathroom. 


Noah sits on the floor and he stares at the painting. How can he be that stupid to reveal his ability? Now Sera knows about the dimension inside the painting and perhaps she will stay away from him and he can't protect her anymore. Besides he did something unexpected back in the dimension which is kissing her. It's not something that he would do to make someone believe him but he just did it. His body naturally did that and now he realize that there's something wrong with him. 

"Sera. . ." 

Noah takes the painting and he stand up then leave the art room with the painting on his hand. When walks down he spot Sera near the main door of building B and she's talking to a person with yellow hair. It's Benjamin. How can he knew that Sera is here? He immediately rush to the main door and push Benjamin away. 

"Noah!" 

Sera looks surprised. Noah brings Sera to his back and try to protect her. 

"What are you doing here?" 

"I explain about the dimension to Sera since she asked me about it." 

"You ask Ben about the dimension?" 

"I did, he said that he can explain everything and help me to understand." 

"He's a liar! Let's go, Sera." 

Noah takes Sera with him back to the dorm, leaving Benjamin behind. Noah knows everything about Ben, about everything that he has done in the past, about Candace and now he's going to do the same thing to Sera. He can't let that happen to this young girl. 

"Noah!" 

". . ." 

"Noah!" 

Noah turns around and he looks at Sera, she looks in pain, perhaps he hold her hand too tight. He let her hand go and look at her. 

"I'm sorry." 

"Why did you do that to him? I only ask for an explanation." 

"Sera, listen to me. He is a liar. I told you that he's a bad person remember?"

"Yes. . " 

"Do you remember about the note that you got when we had lunch at the chinese restaurant near the supermarket?" 

"Yes." 

"It was him. He gave you the note, he's trying to harm you, Sera. Just like what he did to Candace and I don't want you to experience the same thing as Candace did." 

"Candace? Who is that?" 

"I'll tell you later." 

He takes Sera with him to his dorm and ask Sera to sit. Noah walks to his bedroom and take out a book from his bookcase then he take a photo from the book then he give Sera the photo. It's a photo of a beautiful red haired girl, she looks younger than Sera, maybe she is 18 years old and in the photo, the girl is smiling brightly. 

"Who is she?" 

"It's Candace Roseschwarz. My ex-lover, my first love and Ben's victim."

Sera-21 years old trying to live a new life in a new place but who knows there'll be lots of things that change her life since she met a young man from aircraft that will give lots of impact in her life. Noah-22 years old is a 2nd semester student who lose his ex-lover because of a person named Benjamin. Sera meet Noah and there will be a biggest problem that she will face in her life and she must do everything to make sure she will never have the same fate as Noah's ex-lover. But everything will get darker and more mysterious. Will Sera and Noah be able to get over with every challenge and problem that they will face?

Lesker

She shouldn't exist. Her kind of beauty shouldn't be real. Oh, the cosmos is just so cruel. A beautiful face with a heart of steel. Oh, I'm married to her now. No amount of Ambroisa can get rid of that.

I'm prince consort Lesker now, instead of useless scholar Lesker. My, how things change in such a short while. I suppose I should appreciate small miracles.

It was my first time painting in front of an audience. I was anxious but what could I do? I feared if I shamed the queen, she would have my head.

I look around and see the queen mother's encouraging face. I had wanted to paint the queen at first but the queen mother will do. And so, I painted. I was a lot nervous at first but brushing against the canvas repeatedly made me relax.

After I was done, I look at her for approval. Her eyes were indifferent but I see a little light in her eyes so I smile. I present the painting to my mother-in-law and I return to my seat.

The moment I was dreading came far too soon. We were to spend the night together. We walked in the corridor quietly, with me one step behind her.

She pushes the door to her room open and gives me a hard glare. I retreated a couple of steps and she enters. I enter after her and I could hear a small noise from her. She was annoyed with me in her room.

"I could leave if you wanted your majesty" I offer. I knew my way around the palace. I'm sure I could navigate the way without being seen.

"Stay" she says after a while. I sigh silently and sit on the couch in her room. She makes that sound again and I'm annoyed. Does she want me to stand?

I ignore her and make my self comfortable on the chair which wasn't that hard. I look up but she isn't there anymore. I hear sounds from the adjoining room. I assume she's in there, bathing.

She must've portaled there. I click my tongue, jealous. I wish I could portal out of here too but it must be impossible. Her room would be like the Abbot's house: impossible to portal in or out except for the Abbot.

I tap my hands rhythmically, bored of not doing anything. She emerges from the bathroom in a lace gown hugging her body dangerously. I catch myself before I stare too much.

"You can use the bathroom now" she says and I nod. I rush past her, eager to get rid of this ceremonial suit. My clothes are in the bathroom and I'm grateful to the maid that kept them there.

The bath is relaxing and I forget all my worries. Well, almost. Can't forget you're in a woman's bathroom that easily. I can't stay in there forever so I clean up and come out.

She's on the bed with a book in hand. She looks up briefly and looks back to her book. Thankfully, the bed is big so I slip into the other side. She might be mad but I'm way too tired for that.

I'm about to slip into peaceful slumber, aided by this soft pillows when I hear a loud slam.

"Look, just because you're married to me doesn't mean you can act how you like. You are nothing but deadweight to me" she says.

Ouch, that hurt. She didn't need to say all that though, I have no interest in laying a hand on her. I don't want to die you know.

"Okay your majesty. After tonight, I'll stick to my quarters and wouldn't bother with you" I reply, sleepily.
"Are you trying to say I'm not worthy of your attention? Are you insulting me?"

What the hell? What's wrong with this woman? She tells me to leave her alone and now she says this? She's fucked up.

"No, I didn't say that! What do you want from me?"
"I want you to grovel at my feet like the trash you are. I want you to serve me with your body and I want to suck your soul. I want to kill your spirit so all you depend on is me" her irises are black. She's above me and in her eyes,  is a vortex sucking me in.

She's toxic. She's insane. She's bad for me. Yet, a part of me is excited. My head clouds with lust and I find myself almost giving in. Telling her to take control of me. I stop just in time.

She shifts from me and says in a monotone voice;
"Paint for me"

It was an order. One I couldn't refuse. I'm about to tell her there are no tools there when I see a canvas on her balcony. I question myself if that was there before or it just appeared. It didn't matter.

I tiredly got up from the bed and went to paint. One look at the constellation, I decide to paint the moons.

By the time I was done, she was already fast asleep. Sighing, I dragged myself into the bed and wander off into dreamland as soon as my head hit the pillows.

The Kingdom of Ataliya has been ruled by the priestesses of Muni for over a million years. Queen Kohra is the chosen one and appointed when she reaches 18. The thing about her though, is that she's unwilling to chose a consort. 
Lesker is a scholar in the monastry of the god Burmi. He is chosen as the first consort for Kohra, the very stubborn queen.
What happens when intelligence clashes and fate draws this unlikely couple together? Find out, in the legend of Queen Kohra.

Volume 2: Era of Lesker
Lesker has lost his memory and found himself in a mysterious place without anything to go on with. The only thing he remembers are his name and something he must find. 
How is he going to survive, restore his memory and find what he's looking for? Find out in the Era of Lesker

~ Fernandez Mansion~
When Ella arrived into the Fernandez mansion and walked into the brick house, she saw no one in the studio room.
Danny must be somewhere in the kitchen...
Ella dropped the cowboy hat in the stool chair, and then she walked towards the sofa in the corner and drops her shoulder bag. She began looking at the canvases in the living room, there were portraits of mother and child, a woman sitting on the chair, and they were images of Danny's deceased family. Some canvas were half-drawn, half-finished or full of splattering colors yet no shapes were taking place. Some abstract portraits were gathering dust in the corner.
Danny had survived through the years with the deceased memories in his mind unable to move on from the painful tragedy of his past. Inside the walls of this house were the memories of his beloved woman and their son pulsating alive and that what kept him a prisoner of this house unable to move on.
Ella heard footsteps approaching...
When he turned around he met with Danny's gaze fresh from his bath. She can smell his aftershave entering her nostrils.
"Why don't you live in the mansion next door? Why would you holed up yourself alone in this house with their memories?" she asked indicating his deceased family.
Danny raised his head and shoots her a dark look.
"You never know how painful it is to lose your love ones. Shut your mouth and stop asking questions, Ella! I won't entertain any of it," he avoided the topic and walked to his chair stool preparing his tools for painting.
Ella sighed. She walked to the stool chair and slid her cowboy hat on her head.
"Stare at the window and don't move until I say so," Danny commanded her.
She followed his instruction obediently. While looking at the window, it dawned on her how Danny able to survive not seeing the outside world? He must be roaming the backyard on their mansion and held himself a prisoner in this brick house for two years without any social interaction with anyone. That's terrible! If some people can move on after a few months from a family tragedy, Danny was different, he chose to remain in the confinement of his painful past.
"Dan, are you going to stay forever in this house where much of their memories were alive?" Ella asked.
He didn't acknowledge her question.
"How can you move on if you won't try to live in the present world again? Start meeting new people, new women, maybe you will meet a woman you will like and fall in love again," she suggested in a friendly way.
Danny's mouth was pursed but his hands were still moving to sketch her.
She tried to catch his gaze but he won't look in her eyes for a longer time. He was avoiding eye contact with her.
"If you allow me, I can help you ease into society again. I will accompany you in starting your new life again, I can offer you my friendship and companionship, I will try to support you the best I can," she offered her help in a friendly way the best way she knows how.
Still, he was not interested with her blabbering, he won't join in her one-sided conversation pretending he was deaf and mute.
Ella sighed.
Maybe she should not meddle in him and his personal affairs, but she can't help it. She just can't help herself, if somehow she can pump some sense into his head, maybe it's easier to convince him about donating that piece of land for her charitable project. The hardest part isn't even about convincing him, it's his refusal to join her in a conversation. How to convince him if he wouldn't even answer her questions?
Dang! Her body was already aching for not moving for so long, she needs to rest a bit and go to the bathroom, that's it, she would excuse herself and go take a pee!
"Danny, can I use the bathroom?" she asked.
As usual, he didn't answer her, he was just giving her a cold treatment.
Ella gets off the chair and went to the bathroom and relieved herself. She stops by at the fridge and took a soda and emptied the contents in her mouth, satisfied, she throws the empty bottle inside the garbage can beside the kitchen's door and returned to the studio.
Danny was still at his chair sitting, holding the paintbrush in his right hand and doing some sketching in the canvas in front of him.
"Shall we continue?" she asked.
He just nods at her.
Ella made a posed again and focused her eyes on the window.
A few minutes later, he began talking...much to Ella's surprised and delights.
"My father said that you are here to convince me about the piece of land that you wanted me to donate for your charity causes, is that right?" he asked.
Her face lighted up. "Yes! I'm here for that specific reason. Is there any chance I can convince you to donate that land to my charity projects?" she asked eagerly.
"You are just wasting your time. I won't sell or donate that land to anyone for any cause. That is the piece of land that I was planning to erect a house for my deceased family. I won't let it go, letting it go means am letting go of their memories and I can't do it," he said seriously.
Ella released a deep sigh. "Is there any way I can convince you to let go of that land?" she asked.
"No," he said firmly.
Damn! She just meets a dead end!
"I will do anything you want me to do," she said on spur of the moment, she offered something which in the end she doesn't know if she can even give justice to.
"Really?" he asked. Something gleaming in his eyes when he stared into her face.
"Yes," she answered bravely.
Danny rose to his feet and went inside on one of the bedrooms and when he returned he brought a piece of clothing with him. "Wear that one!" he commanded her. He dropped the fabric in her lap.
Ella inspected the garment, it's sexy red lingerie!
"Y-you want me to change into this dress right now?" she asked.
Danny looks at her, his piercing eyes boring into hers. "Yes. It's my late partner's favorite lingerie," a smirk suddenly appeared in his eyes. 


{COMPLETED} The twin sisters, Catherine and Caroline, robbed an old ancestral house out of  pressing necessity. Unfortunately they were caught empty handed by the owner himself and his bodyguards. 

To avoid jail time, Catherine offered her body to the owner in exchange for their freedom.

What happened next...?

A tumultuous, intense and passionate love story between Catherine and the owner named John began to take shape in each chapters of the story.

~~~~~

For John, his first encounter with Catherine was embroiled with lust, not proper and wasn't even built on a solid ground. He thought he already lost her. But he nurtured and kept her memory alive in his mind. How many times he was willing to chase the woman he loves?

For Catherine, she met John for the first time in a cruel stroke of destiny. He ravaged her body for two nights straight. But he left a lasting impression on her. He was her first kiss, the first guy she was physically intimate with. But he wasn't even her boyfriend! He was just a stranger that appeared in her life once, but the imprint he left on her body, his gentleness and his generosity was bound to hunt her forever. How long she can deny the true beating of her heart?

In another time their path was destined to cross again...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

*** This novel is controversial, gripping and mind engaging! But more importantly you will be amazed of one man's enduring love for one woman 'till the very end. It's rare to find a guy who's love for a woman can endure the test of time...

*** The novel contains smut, steamy scenes but done in good taste, lol. Btw. you can skip chapter with steamy scenes, not all chapter has smut theme though.

*** This novel is for Adults only! For mature readers and audiences, lol. Only 18+ above please! Thank you. 

*** If you don't like the novel, please don't bash the novel and the Author. This is a work of fiction, although some of the events and scenes in the story happens in real life...still everything in this story was a work of fiction, please don't take it personally. Thank you!



~My Other novels in this site~

* The Last Embrace~ Vampire Fantasy Romance, 472 chapters, completed.
* Sweet Surrender: The CEO's Second Wife~ ongoing.
* The Tale of Three Sisters ~ ongoing.

After Xiang Feng left for school, Song Jia began to wash all of their clothes. She did this using a mechanical washing machine, which she made Nian Shou build for her. Song Jia drew the structure and Nian Shou implemented her idea. 

After pre-treating it with wood ash, the laundry was put inside a drum machine, and the wheel was turned. The back-and-forth movement churned the laundry in both directions, and the dirty water was drained away through a lip in the gutter. It was an invention of a French manufacturer during the 1800s that Song Jia shamelessly declared as her own.

One had to say, Song Jia's ability to memorize useless information would be considered a waste of brain space for a normal person. But for a transmigrator, it was a necessary ability.

When she finished washing the laundry, the sun was still high in the sky, and there was nothing else to do. All the house chores had been finished. Song Jia thought about it for a bit, and finally brought out an empty canvas from the pantry. Oil painting had already existed in this time period, and she wanted to try her hand at it. When she was Xu Qin Wang Fei, due to the lack of anything to do inside the wangfu, she became very proficient in the four arts.

Due to this, her painting skills had already passed the simply 'good' barrier, drawing close to the term 'excellent.'

Song Jia dipped her brush into a deep blue and began painting the koi pond of the estate, especially putting close attention to the cluster of red lotus flowers that floated on the water. Her brush glided across the canvas, and the waterside pavilion slowly appeared before her eyes. A woman in white sat there, her black hair falling over her shoulders as her fingers strummed a qin. She looked peaceful and content.

Song Jia looked at her painting with satisfaction.

As expected, this grandma looks cool no matter what she does, ah~

"What are you doing?"

Nian Shou had returned home, smelling like blood and raw meat. He peered over her shoulder, trying to look at what she was painting.

Song Jia wrinkled her nose and before he could even sit beside her, she stood up and pushed him towards the bathroom.

"Go and take a bath, you stink!"

Nian Shou sniffed at himself. Then he grinned and opened his arms, trying to hug Song Jia. She pinched her nose and quickly evaded him with a light turn of her heels, before her hand caught his ear and pinched it.

"Ow!" Nian Shou grimaced. "Didn't you know that this hardworking young master's body is sore from working too hard to put food in the table?"

"And my hands are sore from washing your dirty clothes. Why is it that Xiao Feng's clothes are cleaner than yours? Do you think it's easy to do laundry?"

"He only goes to school, I deal with meat and blood. It's unfair to compare an employed man with a lazy student!"

Song Jia ignored his whining. She only gave him a look and pointed to the bathroom again. Nian Shou threw up his hands in defeat and started taking off his clothes as he walked away. Song Jia ignored his half-naked body and started preparing the kitchen table for dinner. She had seen his body too many times to even be embarrassed at the sight of it.

Finally, Xiang Feng arrived home. In comparison to how she treated Nian Shou, Song Jia was all smiles as she put food on his plate and asked him about the things he did at school.

"It's always the same thing," Xiang Feng replied as he took a sip of his water.

Song Jia thought he was going through the 'school is boring' phase and understandingly nodded her head, "I know, but you still have to study hard and make good friends."

Wanting to tease him a little, she asked, "Is there any girl that you like at school?"

Xiang Feng choked on his water.  After sputtering a bit and wiping the clear liquid that trickled down the corner of his red lips, he hastily denied, "I don't like any of them!"

Song Jia was amused. "You don't have to be so defensive. I'm only asking. Anyway, it's good to indulge in puppy love now and then."

"I don't like any of them. I'm not interested in any of them." Xiang Feng's expression was tense. His small face looked up at Song Jia. "Jia, please believe me."

Nian Shou delivered a piece of meat to his mouth and said while chewing, "She's only asking, no need to be so serious."

Nian Shou lowered his head and continued eating, not paying any more attention to the two of them.

Song Jia patted Xiang Feng's head. His black hair was silky and soft, and she couldn't help but touch it a couple more times. Since he seemed so upset about this matter, she comforted soothingly, "It's okay, I believe you."

Xiang Feng's face continued to look upset. He put his head closer to Song Jia's hand like a kitten seeking his owner's affection. Song Jia continued patting his head, until the child's forehead stopped wrinkling.

Almost inaudible, she heard him mumble, "No one is as good as Jia."

Song Jia shook her head while smiling. She was really blessed to have a child that thinks too highly of his mother, ah.

After dinner, Song Jia poured Xiang Feng a cup of milk. She was always telling him to drink more milk these days, as his body was too scrawny and short. She was afraid that his classmates would bully him.

The two of them were still sleeping together on the same bed. However, Song Jia transferred the main bed to the study, since the day bed was too small for both of them. Even though their bed was now spacious, Xiang Feng continued to stick close to Song Jia, telling her that it was easier for him to sleep that way. Song Jia knew he was having bad dreams, so she allowed him to do as he liked.

Sometimes when she left for the bathroom during the night, she would come back to Xiang Feng curling up his body underneath the blanket, his forehead soaked with sweat. He would either wake up screaming not to touch him, or pleading to somebody not to leave him. The second one was especially worse. Thankfully, they did not happen frequently.

In the first world she transmigrated into, Song Jia accidentally killed the original host and made the monarch so insane with grief that the whole world was destroyed with him.

Having no salary for six months because of this fiasco, Song Jia wanted to cry but had no tears.

In the second world she transmigrated into, Song Jia had to raise a cute little bun and thought that her job this time would be easy. In the end, the cute little bun became a ruthless hegemon that banned all candied haws because she once ignored him to buy one in the street market.

Song Jia nearly flipped a table in anger. Why are these male gods* so abnormal? She just wanted to get her salary, ah!

*Male Gods are actually a Chinese term for 男神 (Nanshen); meaning godly males, or OP male characters.

Harper drove the bike slower than before- but that wasn't saying much. Even after the time they lost, they managed to reach the train-station before Old Tom struck the half hour. 
Arlene managed to dismount more gracefully this time. 
Standing on the platform and stretching, Arlene turned to Harper and held out her hand. 
"I wouldn't have made it here without you. Thanks for everything."
Harper stared at the outstretched hand and pushed it aside.
"Whoa. Woah- back up a second. If I didn't know better, I'd say you were trying to get rid of me."
"But-"
"I've noticed something now. You don't want to put me to trouble, but I'm going to come out and say this, I think if I let you out of my sight you're going to die."
"It's not your-"
"It's every damn bit my business!"
"Harper, didn't you come here to attend the Quarkton engineering College here? You can't just run off after me like this."
"I can and I will! Besides, I arrived early, I've got two months before the semester starts."
There was an awkward cough from the station entrance. 
They both turned- Hahn was waiting there, along with Dasilva and Owen. The latter seemed to be holding something behind his back- while Dasilva was sporting a black eye. 
"What're you doing here? And what happened to you?" Arlene's query was echoed with a nod from Harper. 
Hahn just rolled his eyes. 
"Please. We talked, and figured that this was where we'd find you. I knew that you never go back to the station- and they said that Harper would want to travel with you."
Owen, with a dramatic flourish, pulled out a long canvas duffel bag and handed it off to Harper. 
"Packed as much as I could as fast as I could."
Harper beamed. 
"Real sweet of you. But what happened to Dasilva? Didn't duck a punch?"
Dasilva looked away and Owen snickered. 
"He tripped over in the room while he was looking for his lighter!"
Harper lightly cuffed Owen over the head. 
"Don't be mean. Now, you two be good. We'll be travelling by tether." 
Arlene opened her mouth to protest at how expensive it would be, but then closed it. Tether carriages were magical vehicles that floated in the air above conventional rail lines, using the rails for guidance. They weren't necessarily faster than a train in a straight line, but they didn't make stops or have to slow down based on the terrain. They were in a hurry and it would also ensure that they didn't have any unwanted encounters during the trip. 
It was worth it. 
"Alright. Harper, do you need me to pay for you?"
Harper stuck out her tongue in response and produced a coin-purse from her canvas bag. 
The elderly man at the ticket counter woke up after a few prods and sleepily stamped a pair of tickets for a Tethered trip to the Capitol.
When they returned, Hahn and the boys were examining the treadbike with envious eyes. 
"This is a nice set of treads- what do you plan on doing with it?"
"Bring it with us." Harper responded cheerfully. 
Arlene stiffened.
"Uh, H-harper, don't you think, that maybe it would be better to leave it hahn. He could take it to the Watchman. Besides, it can't come with us on the carriage right?"
"Of course it can. I'll put it on the luggage rack. Besides, if we're in need of cash we can flog it off later down the line. Don't look sour, the Watchman won't mind."
Before the carriage arrived, Hahn promised to tell the professors at Quarkton about the situation of both Harper and Arlene.
"I won't be able to stick around to see if you come back. I'm heading out tomorrow myself to do a post-grad course in Device alloying. If you're ever by Entente university, look for me." 
Owen and Dasilva nearly insisted on coming along, but this was vetoed by Harper. 
"I can protect one person confidently. Three? No. You're staying here and you can pay off my share to Bert at the exchange." 
The two of them looked crestfallen.
Arlene just laughed. 
"Tell Bert that I'm not charging for this one. Now you just have to pay for Hahn's time and the parts."
Soon enough the Tether carriage floated down into an open bay on the platform, it was shaped like a train car but without wheels. Instead a soft golden glow emanated from beneath it that dimmed a little as it touched down on the platform. There was a luggage rack on the top of the carriage and to Arlene's dismay, Harper hefted the bike up and hoisted it onto the top of the car before lashing it down. 
Together, Harper and Arlene boarded the carriage and after a few minutes of waiting, it rose into the air on it's predetermined flight towards the capitol. 

The interior of the carriage was luxurious to say the least. This one-way trip had cost as much as a whole months rent on Arlene's apartment, and it showed. The carriage had a double bed in each corner, which could be hidden from the rest of the space by means of an embroidered curtain. In the centre there was a card table and a wet-bar. The window-glass of the carriage ran in an unbroken line laterally, clearly having been fashioned with the help of a craftsperson to shape the glass. 
A crystal chandelier hung from above, softly tinkling as it filled the interior with sparkling light. 
Tucked away behind a door at one end of the carriage was a small white-tiled bathroom. 
As the sparkling glimmers of Lumiere's gaslamps were lost to the distance, Arlene yawned and went to lie down. It wasn't late, but the events of the past few hours had left her tired beyond reckoning. 
"Oi."
Arlene felt herself be yanked back into a standing position.
"Shower first, before you sleep." Harper said, steering Arlene straight into the bathroom and shutting the door. 
Arlene mechanically undressed, showered, and then realised she'd left her haversack outside. 
Mercifully fresh towels had been provided, but, she was loathe to change back into her dirty clothes. 
She wrapped a towel tightly around her midsection- which wasn't easy, the towels weren't all that large and she had more than most to wrap.
Harper stared at first when Arlene emerged and then swallowed heavily when she bent over to start rummaging inside her Haversack.
"I'm just, going to go... shower. Now." Harper disappeared into next room clutching her bag.
Arlene didn't notice, as she was making an unpleasant discovery.
First her bag had started gleefully delivering into her hands every article of laundry she'd haphazardly stuck into it and forgotten about over the last month and a half. 
Second, when she started asking very specifically for 'clean-clothes' it gave her nothing.
And third when she'd slyly changed the request to 'the least dirty set of underwear and nightwear I have' she'd received only half of what she asked for- and then facepalmed as she realised that just that morning she'd gone on a washing frenzy and her nightclothes were currently hung out to dry in her apartment. 
At least, she'd topped up her supply of clean socks in the haversack recently- but she vaguely regretted not taking a minute to dash inside her apartment and cram in a few more clean changes of clothes. 
Sure, at the time both she and Harper had been debating on whether or not to drag the unconscious men back to the watch, and trying to figure out where the last one had disappeared off to- and how long they had before he turned back up with reinforcements....

"Dragons stone."

Arlene stopped her search for clothes for a moment and her hand emerged from her bag holding a rough irregular stone. It was hard to imagine exactly what value this fairly ordinary looking rock could have. It certainly wasn't any aesthetic value- it was only a bit smaller than the extremely ordinary rock that she'd earlier tossed into the lake as a bluff. Though... strangely, it looked different somehow now it was on the table. 

She put it on the card table, and sat down to stare at it- searching for any clue to it's purpose.
Just looking at it was useless- but, Arlene had a hunch about something. The weight wasn't extraordinary, nor the texture or hardness. So the stone obviously had to have some other properties. She tried pressing a lodestone to it, which failed to reveal anything much, and then tried chipping off a few bits.
Most of the chemicals that she had on hand in her bag were cleaning and maintenance related- not exactly suitable for this sort of work. Surprisingly though, after dropping some chips into a coffee-mug full of industrial strength descaling agent and straining the results, there was a fine silvery metal powder that remained.
Unfortunately, that didn't tell her much either.
After a few minutes, the stone remained smugly inscrutable. Arlene was just experimenting with heating some chipped off pieces, when she was  distracted by vigorous swearing from the bathroom. 
The door to the bathroom opened, revealing Harper dripping wet, clutching a towel to herself and looking in an extremely bad temper. 
"Tank's bloody run dry!" she cussed as she stormed out. 
Arlene shrugged, "I don't think we used that much, they must've not filled it when it left the capitol... what're you doing with my bag?" 
"You keep all kinds of stuff in here right? Got any tubing? I was going to go up top and siphon out water from the bike into the carriage." As she spoke, she shook her head with the vigour of a wet dog, droplets of rapidly cooling water scattering in every direction as her crimson hair whipped around. 
"Hey! I'm right here you know-" Arlene's protested. 
Even as she'd flinched away, she'd seen something that made her doubt her eyes.
The card-table was now covered with flecks of water, but the stone? It was practically dry. Almost instantly as the water had touched the surface, it had exploded into tiny puffs of mist. 
Mouth half open, she grabbed Harper's hair and shook it over the stone, deaf to her sudden cries of protest. The same thing repeated- but, when she reached out to the stone with her other hand, the surface didn't feel much warmer than thirty or forty degrees. 
"ARLENE! What're you doing!"
Harper's yell snapped her out of her reverie and Arlene turned to her, wide eyed. 
"I figured it out! This rock, it's a catalyst!"

An aspiring engineer's destiny changes when men attempt to rob 'the Dragon's Stone' from her- But, she's never even heard of it!

"True love doesn't need proof. The eyes told what heart felt." 
― Toba Beta, My Ancestor Was an Ancient Astronaut

(Tirchanus' POV)
 7:00 a.m.
 I wake up, lying on my back as I have beaten my alarm clock again for the hundredth time, which continues my winning streak. I press "snooze" on my clock, trying to get scared again like yesterday when I dropped my toothbrush in the toilet after it went off only to realize I didn't press the snooze button. I stared at the ceiling as I picture a thousand things I could paint on my white canvas that stands in front of me, empty and ready to live in color. Hundreds of images are popping up one by one, feeling every color, every brush stroke and every careful pattern I delicately add. Vivid images are scanning through my head; images like buildings, roads, people and tress. I feel each detail echoing in my head until one particular image strikes me: a park scenery. I know just the thing to do.
 I get out of bed, stretched every limb and muscle there is in me and slowly walk to the kitchen where I made my usual breakfast: slices of ham and cheese and a sunny – side up friend egg sandwiched between two halves of an English muffin. I swear, the food sounds similar but I quickly brush off the thought of it. The smell of the muffins toasting and the egg sizzling on my non – stick frying pan covers my entire apartment with breakfast goodness but it would be a better sensory experience if the damn egg decided not to splatter oil on my skin. I twitch with every drop of burning hot vegetable oil touching my delicate skin and decide to bring out the big guns: a garbage can cover. Like a knight with his shining armor and shield, I protect myself from the splatters that come raging in like burning arrows in the nightsky. I could just be dramatic but it is never a good morning if you suffer from third degree burns from it. Careful and swiftly, I remove the egg and place it onto the toasted half of the muffin. I finish the dish by adding a slice of cheddar cheese, two smoked ham slices and to finish it all off, the other toasted half of the muffin. I marvel at its beauty and smell for a few milliseconds before I eat it slowly but surely. Clearly, I don't want to choke on my favorite breakfast dish early in the morning.
 As I chomp down on the breakfast sandwich, something hits me. It has been two months since I moved in this apartment and everything just seems small; from my bathroom and kitchen with a table and two chairs positioned opposite of each other to my bed. The small, flat screen TV sits close to the small narrow hallway and positioned in a corner just so I can watch shows on it from my dining table. The walls are once yellows but are now grayish and the ceiling is in need of repairs. I never thought of fixing my apartment room with all the money I earn from selling my paintings because I always end up paying rent and buying more paint materials with little to no care about food. Everything feels so small, broken and lonely. I know that I should have known that beforehand but with all of my time spent on making paintings and selling them for an affordable price, I never got the chance to just sit down and observe the state of loneliness I am in. I thought someone else would come by and be my roommate but not even a figure visited my room so far. I never got the chance to even call my family because of how busy I am with my small painting business. It feels incomplete, I should say. It is all silent with the last chunk of the sandwich resting between my left index finger and left thumb. The sudden feeling of loneliness starts to build up on my chest but I manage to let out a deep sigh and eat the remains of the sandwich. 
 I get up and turn the TV on; doing just about anything to remove the painful silence the room is under. It was on some documentary about lions in the wild but I care less about it. I grab some clean clothes and a towel because of my stench reaching into my nostrils. I step into the bathroom, strip my clothes off from my body and step in to the shower. The cold water trickles down my body. I assist myself in getting wet in all places by rubbing my hands all over myself. I squirted a handful of shampoo on my hands and gently massaged my hair with it. It has been a day since I hadn't been taking a bath properly so I must make the most of it. I grab the bar of soap in front of me and proceed to rub it everywhere on my body. The cold water continues to pour down on me, washing every soap film clinging on my skin. Once I finally smell fresh and new, I step out of the shower, pat myself dry and put on some clean clothes. I walk to the sink to brush my teeth but I can't help but stare at myself.
 Damn, I am 41 years old and I am living like a teen, trashing the place and smelling like crap.
 I note some sagging near my eyelids and cheeks and obvious eyebags that are obtained from last night's staring into the scene outside the window: the beautiful night sky that are designed with stars and a moon with buildings being lit up by colors of blue, white, and yellows. I didn't take my eyes off of such beautiful picture, wondering what is more to be seen at night. I grunt at myself, realizing that I am aging older everyday and walk away from the mirror.
 I grab hold of my blank white canvas, my paintbrush set and my paints because I am on a real mission: to find a particular scene that I keep forevermore; a particular scene that I can't bring myself to sell for money but just a memory. It may sound cheesy and boring but here's the thing: I am not living in just a city. I am in Kalimbahin, the pastel city. It is more than just the beautiful architecture and the nature, it is the colors that drive me to capture the beauty of the city, frame it and even sell it for a good price but even I can't replicate the energy and the aesthetics Kalimbahin radiates and it would be an injustice to sell something I am not happy of. There's just something the small city has that would seem bigger than what it is.
 I take a deep breath and step out of the room.
 I'm going to face the city again and I don't think I'll ever get tired of it.

In the colorful city of Kalimbahin, the beautiful pastel colors encapsulate the vibrancy, beauty and peace it radiates but it’s something Tirchanus Cortes must take it all in one step at a time, even if he has been living in there for a reasonable amount of time. A natural – born painter, he walks along the beautiful pinks, violets and roses of the city to find that one specific scene he is forever searching for; something that will forever be his masterpiece.
	That forever changes when he meets Maitho Diaz, a writer, finding for words that can describe Kalimbahin but fails to even if he tries. Chan and Maitho meet and their eyes are forever found in each other.
	To Maitho, it is love at first sight but to Tirchanus, it is just too good to be true...
	… or is there more to his eyes than just one glance of it all?

When Yujia opened her eyes, she was back in the modern world. 
She blinked twice, rubbed her eyes, and slowly pushed herself up. Her head turned to look around the room she was in. It was her familiar dull apartment, with paint peeling off walls and newspaper covered floors. The sounds of honking and morning city traffic came from outside the window. 
The moment she took all of these senses in, Yujia froze. 
She swore, that in the moment, her heart stopped beating. 
Yujia leapt up, pulling the blinds over the nearest window open. Her eyes were greeted with cars rushing across the roads, pedestrians crossing streets, and motorbikes beeping loudly. Seeing that and confirming the sounds to be real, Yujia turned around, her hand running up to her face, feeling all of her old features again and bumpy skin. 
She practically ran to the bathroom, slamming the door open, pushing her face up close to the mirror. 
There she was, in her old body. 
She had gotten so used to seeing that face with the body that didn't originally belong to her. She had grown used to seeing light colored robes, dainty features, and long, long hair— not a sloppy t-shirt, shorts, and a distorted face. 
This couldn't be real. This couldn't be real. 
Yujia spun back around, her steps feeling as light as air, retracing her steps to the newspaper-covered floors. There was a canvas in the middle, black paint splashed all over it. Her hands went to touch the canvas. The paint was still surprisingly wet, leaving black splotches on her fingertips. She wiped the paint aside in messy movements, revealing a streaky painting of white chrysanthemums underneath. 
Did she paint chrysanthemums the night before she transmigrated? 
Her hands were shaking. 
This couldn't be real. This couldn't be real. This couldn't be real. This couldn't be real. This couldn't be real. 
But it felt real. Every inch of her body felt real. Every breath escaping her lips felt real. Every touch she made felt real. All solid. 
Transmigration. She swore she transmigrated. She transmigrated into a Fourth Miss back then, spent more than a month in that world, made relationships like— like— 
Yujia found with horror that she couldn't recall any names. She had a maid, didn't she? What was the name of that maid? Now thinking about it, did she even have a maid? Did she even make any relationships? 
Did she even transmigrate?
What if this entire ordeal, all those memories and emotions she went through, was all a dream? 
It couldn't be. 
Yujia was certain of this fact. There was no way that this was the kind of experience she went through, summarized by an entire dream. Everything from back then was too real. Too, too real. Just like how it felt now, expect even more vivid, more legitimate, more substantial. 
She went back to the bathroom, looking in the mirror. It was the reflection of her true face, the one with all the imperfections. 
She closed her eyes, inhaling deeply and exhaling deeply. Then, she opened her eyes again. 
The reflection in the mirror changed. It became the one far more beautiful, the one with a slender face and larger eyes. Yet the eyes, instead of having dark irises, were silver. A startling shade of silver, misty and shining. 
Her hand reached out for the reflection, but at that moment, the mirror shattered right before her eyes. Beneath it was endless darkness spreading through the room like a fog made of shadows, the only light coming from glowing chrysanthemums drifting down. 
The ground underneath her feet collapsed, and Yujia fell down with the white petals. 
… 
Yujia woke up, half her body hanging off her bed and zero blankets over her. She slumped over like that, stuck in place for a few minutes, catching her breath. 
She looked around the room after that, greeting her eyes with the sight of oriental furniture. She was in Lingxin. She was back to reality. The place she expected to wake up in. 
Internally, Yujia quickly recited a few names through her head: Hui'er, Ye Yunhe, Yu Zixu, Bo Zhizhong, Zhou Luowei… It was a relief to find that she could remember all of them. 
It had been a dream. All of the terror of going back to her old world, losing all her memories of transmigration… it had been a dream. 
Then, the feeling of something that she forgot about came up: a hangover. 
Her head was thudding while the feeling of nausea rose up within her. Immediately, she rolled herself off the bed, scrambling to find a basin where she recalled it to be in the mornings. The basin had fresh water in it, but she couldn't be more bothered to pour it out at the moment. Yujia pulled it over and violently vomited. 
In between these moments, she recalled her first hangover when she transmigrated. Hui'er had been there to bring the basin to her, empty it once she was done, and to wipe her mouth and pat her back gently. Now, however, no one was quite by her side. There were servants, but most of them hid away from her sight. She only had herself, and no one else. 
While her mind slowly cleared up, the dream she had last night came back to her in vivid flashes. 
It was at this moment, with her heart thudding and hands trembling, did Yujia truly realize how terrified she was to go back to the modern world. 
She hated the person she was back then. She hated her old self. She could give up technology and the comforts of the modern world, as long as she didn't have to go back to that person she used to be. That person— just the thought of that person— brought fear to her heart. 
The dream was strange though, with the silver irises and white chrysanthemums. It was just like that one she had a week or so ago, right before she escaped for her marriage. 
Once was just a coincidence. But could two times be a mere coincidence as well? Or could there be a deeper meaning behind these repeating dreams?
Yujia decided to not jump to these ideas instantly. Twice was not repetitive. Three times, however, and that should be when it truly bothered her. 
She took another clean basin with water and wiped her face with a wet towel. The water felt refreshing to her face, except the more her mind cleared up, the more thoughts came to her. 
Now, she had so many mysteries to solve, from transmigration to her family secrets. How was she going to manage all of that by herself? Just the thought of it seemed overwhelming. 
Yujia paused, dipping the towel in the water, then wringing it dry. 
It was alright. Though overwhelming, she had plenty of time. And with time, all problems could be solved. She just needed to go through it slowly. Rushing would be of no purpose. 
This brought a sigh to her lips. The days ahead of her were long, but at least she had things to keep herself busy with. 
Her headache and nausea continued to persuade her to continue lying around in bed, but it was already so late. She had things to do.
Thus, she went and did them, one by one, bit by bit, taking all the time she needed in the world.


At 24 years old, Yang Yujia is an unemployed art major, living off heavy debt and instant noodles, both of her irresponsible parents refusing to support her. During a high-school reunion, Yujia gets drunk, does stupid things, and when she wakes up again, Yujia is no longer in the correct world, time-period, or body. 

Unfortunately, as a transmigrator, Yujia does not seem to have much luck either— instead of transmigrating with a set of stunning martial arts skills, knowledge that would aid her in troubling situations, or a position of royalty that would make her life much easier, Yujia is the fourth (illegitimate) daughter of a small merchant. And what skills does she have to help her survive this world?

A pretty face, witty mouth, and useless artistic talent?

Good enough. 

...

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