After Swapping Identities With My Archenemy - Chapter 1

Chapter 1: Where Am I?

Approaching early winter, the temperature seemed to drop all at once. Pedestrians hurried along the streets. Most people were only wearing two layers of clothing, hugging their arms and rubbing themselves to stay warm, all while grumbling about the cursed weather.

A typhoon was forecasted. Outside the window, the tree branches rustled and rattled in the wind. The sky was filled with dark clouds, and a downpour could start at any moment.

Jiang Huaiyi closed the door, shutting out the chaotic wind. She tidied the ashes in the censer and swept the tabletop, her mouth watering as she eyed the peaches on the offering plate. Unable to resist, she reached for one. “Your disciple is taking one offering fruit, Master. If you don’t say anything, that means you agree.”

It wasn’t the first time she had eaten an offering fruit. If she didn’t eat it, her senior sister would. Still, Jiang Huaiyi lit three incense sticks and offered them to her ancestor.

The three incense sticks were inserted straight into the censer, in the left, right, and center, paying respects to Heaven, Earth, and Man. Holding the peach in her hands, Jiang Huaiyi bowed respectfully. The moment she stood up, she saw the perfectly straight incense sticks break in half. The broken ends fell onto the concrete floor, their crimson glow flickering. She was momentarily stunned.

Her first thought was that this batch of incense was of poor quality. She inspected a stick and found that it was fine—it didn’t crumble and the scent wasn’t overpowering. She quickly lit three more. The moment they were placed, they broke again!

Jiang Huaiyi: ?

She looked at the peach in her hand, thinking, Surely it can’t be about one single peach? The ancestor never cared about this before. She steeled herself and put the peach back, then respectfully lit three more incense sticks. As expected, they broke again.

It wasn’t the peach’s fault, so it could only be her. Jiang Huaiyi’s expression became grim. She immediately went back to her room, grabbed her phone from beside her pillow, and called her martial uncle. But before the call could connect, an overwhelming drowsiness swept over her, and she collapsed onto her bed.

As Jiang Huaiyi lay there, she felt that her usual hard bed board had become soft and comfortable. The heavy cotton quilt was now incredibly light. Her bed was so warm, she felt like she was floating in a soft cloud. In a daze, she dreamed of her master, whom she hadn’t seen in a long time.

The little old lady smiled and tapped her head with her gnarled knuckles. Her hair was a mixture of white and gray, but her face was still youthful, looking no older than forty. The long gray robe she wore was one Jiang Huaiyi had burned for her not long ago. It looked neat and tidy, and it fit her well, Jiang Huaiyi thought.

“Xiao Yi, your lifespan is at an end. But I begged the ancestor. You’re the most talented disciple in our Xuanmen lineage, so you must live on. As long as you complete these tasks, extending your life will be easy.”

Her voice was as warm as it had been when Jiang Huaiyi was a child. She felt a wave of nostalgia, feeling like it had been a long time since she had heard the little old lady speak like this.

The last time she had spoken like this was when she tricked Jiang Huaiyi as a child into spending seven days and nights in a graveyard to test her courage. As expected, it scared this timid girl, who got startled by a tree branch’s shadow, so much that she lost her wits and literally lost her soul, turning into an idiot for a month.

Because of that incident, Jiang Huaiyi became a joke among the other disciples and peers. No one would have guessed that she was the most powerful disciple of the Xuanmen lineage. Because she constantly shirked her duties, she gradually fell to the bottom tier. Everyone, including her clients, knew she was the most cowardly master. As a result, her income was low, and her life was destitute. She barely survived on her master’s savings and financial help from her martial uncle and senior sister.

Noticing the fine silk paper in the little old lady’s lowered hand, she shuddered. Four large characters were written on it: Dao Reverts to the Heavenly Stars.

She scrutinized it, but couldn’t figure out where the little old lady wanted her to go this time.

But her master didn’t give her a chance to ask. She simply said, “Your master has found you a new identity. The tasks you must complete are all here. There’s not much time, so hurry and wake up. Make sure you thank her for being willing to help you. Don’t lie on her bed for too long.”

The voice became increasingly ethereal, and Jiang Huaiyi’s heavy eyelids instantly opened.

The old carved wooden bed was gone. The view in front of her was wide and open, with a black-and-white glass lamp hanging from the ceiling, completely unlike her antique room filled with wooden furniture.

It was about to rain outside, and the light inside the room was dim. She vaguely saw someone sitting at the foot of the bed. Jiang Huaiyi immediately sat up. The person looked over with a pair of incredibly cold eyes, their lips pursed, and their gaze radiating an air of indifference.

She was all too familiar with this face. If she was the most shameful Taoist of the Xuanmen lineage, then the person in front of her, Shen Wensi, was the “most useless” cultivator of the Ghost Cultivation lineage.

The two schools had always been at odds. Xuanmen looked down on Ghost Cultivators for raising little ghosts and refining souls, calling their practices crooked and heretical. Ghost Cultivators in turn despised Xuanmen for being self-righteous and arrogant. Whenever a patron hired both sides, the two would inevitably fight to the death, with neither willing to yield. They each used their own methods, denigrating the other as unseemly, or as having misguided or pointless “righteous” cultivation.

Of course, the reason they knew each other was that they often met at the same patrons’ houses. Patrons who needed help with funerals or misfortune would usually hire masters of similar skill levels. The people hired from the two schools rarely changed, so Jiang Huaiyi gradually understood Shen Wensi’s standing. Like her, Shen Wensi was the “most useless” master. The only difference was that Jiang Huaiyi’s uselessness was a pretense, while Shen Wensi’s was likely genuine.

Looking at the surroundings, she realized it wasn’t any part of her own home. Jiang Huaiyi finally snapped out of her daze. Could my luck really be this bad? How did I wake up in a different place? Just as she was about to move, she felt something strange in her palm. She looked down and saw the fine silk paper from her dream.

What the hell. She opened her mouth to ask a question, but her throat was unusually dry, and her voice came out as a faint whisper: “Where is this?”

Shen Wensi turned slightly towards her. Her voice was as cold as her perpetually frosty face: “My home.”

Jiang Huaiyi quickly lifted the quilt and got out of bed, grabbing the silk paper and hiding her hands behind her back as she apologized profusely. Inside, she cursed. Could my unlucky master have found Shen Wensi as my partner?

She had recognized the other woman immediately because of her unnervingly beautiful face and the numerous times they had met. Although Shen Wensi had never said a word to her, the way she looked at Jiang Huaiyi was like the winter snow, without a trace of warmth. Of course, Jiang Huaiyi had tried to greet her first. She didn’t care about the rivalry, believing that every school had good people and bad people. She didn’t like judging an entire group based on one person. The first time they met, she had even taken the initiative to say hello. Unfortunately, it seemed the other woman hadn’t heard her and didn’t respond.

Jiang Huaiyi thought about it for a moment, then, without saying a word, picked up the jacket from the sofa and started to leave. What partner? My master must have picked her randomly. How could she pick my archenemy?

If she earned money, Shen Wensi wouldn’t, and taking someone’s money was like killing their parents. All the people who were hired together by the same patron were friendly on the surface but would stab each other in the back. Besides, she had already apologized. It was better to leave now.

Shen Wensi’s cold voice rang out behind her: “Where are you going?”

This was the second sentence she had ever said to Jiang Huaiyi. Jiang Huaiyi was actually a very kind person, so she answered honestly. She quickly put on her jacket. “I’m going home. I’m sorry, I don’t know how I ended up at your place.”

The Ghost Cultivation and Xuanmen schools had always been irreconcilable. They would usually fight whenever they met. Since both of them were lazy to the core, they had always gotten along peacefully, but that didn’t mean Shen Wensi wouldn’t hate her. Her self-awareness told her not to provoke this person. What if the other woman got angry and used a little ghost to scare her?

While Jiang Huaiyi was lost in her wild thoughts, she heard Shen Wensi speak again: “Didn’t your master tell you that our identities have been swapped?”

“No, what… huh?”

For a moment, she had no idea what the other woman was talking about. She tightened her jacket. The wind outside was now howling, but there was no sound inside. The glass was so soundproof, unlike her old house where the windows rattled as if they were about to shatter in the wind.

Shen Wensi turned her head. Outside, lightning flashed and thunder boomed. In the shifting light, her face looked like a piece of cold, white jade.

“For some unknown reason, I am now a Xuanmen disciple, and your identity has been swapped with mine.”

Shen Wensi stood up. Usually, they would just glance at each other from a distance and then look away. Only now, from this close proximity, did Jiang Huaiyi realize that the other woman was a full head taller than her, nearly six feet tall, and she also carried an invisible pressure. It was like the oppressive feeling she had when she was an ignorant child and had secretly entered a lewd temple, and felt the presence of a mysterious evil spirit. It was so overwhelming she could barely breathe. This was a feeling she hadn’t experienced since she stabilized her soul essence at the age of ten.

She clutched the collar of her jacket tightly. “You’re lying.”

Shen Wensi took out a sleek, black flip phone from her pocket. It looked expensive and beautiful.

“If you don’t believe me, we can call to confirm.”

Jiang Huaiyi silently put her own little pager back in her pocket. The two had the same idea. Shen Wensi dialed a number and put it on speaker. A familiar ringtone played. It was her martial uncle’s. After a while, he picked up, and his familiar voice came through: “Hello? Wensi, what’s wrong?”

Every hair on Jiang Huaiyi’s body stood on end. A sense of losing a loved one coiled in her heart. Why would her martial uncle call Shen Wensi’s name? This was definitely her martial uncle’s voice; she couldn’t be mistaken.

Shen Wensi answered, “I took on a ritual. I won’t be coming home for dinner for a while.”

The sound of rinsing something could be heard from the other end. It was the afternoon, dinner time. Jiang Huaiyi could even picture her martial uncle holding the phone against his shoulder while washing vegetables.

“I bought your favorite little yellow fish. You’re not coming home today either?”

“The patron is rushing me. I’m already on my way.”

“Okay, take care of yourself. Did you bring all your gear?”

“I did. I have to go now.”

Beep, beep, beep…

The call ended. Jiang Huaiyi looked up at her, utterly shocked. The sky outside had gradually darkened, and Shen Wensi turned on the lights in the room. Her face held an expression that said, See? I told you so.

The martial uncle who had taken care of her since she was a child had truly changed, seeing Shen Wensi as her. Jiang Huaiyi felt like her brain was about to explode. All the familiar sutras that she knew by heart were now completely gone. Everything about Xuanmen seemed to be locked away in a corner of her mind. The harder she tried to remember, the less she could recall.

“Our identities can only be swapped back once all the tasks are completed.” Shen Wensi sat back down on the bed.

“Me? And you? I don’t even know what the tasks are.”

Shen Wensi’s gaze fell to the silk paper clenched in Jiang Huaiyi’s hand. “The words on that magical artifact are only visible to you.”

Hearing this, Jiang Huaiyi hurriedly unfolded the silk paper in her hand. On it was familiar calligraphy. It read:

Xinmin Village, Wudao Mountain, North District of Rong City, October 25th.

The latter part was the date; the former was the location. It must be where the mission was. It was her master’s handwriting. The dream, and the broken incense—everything told her this was real. So… was she really about to die?

She looked down at the hair hanging over her shoulders. It was originally shiny and black, but now it was dry and brittle, like fragile straw. The symptoms of a person whose life force is failing are most obvious in their hair. The hair of a dying person won’t produce any oil, even after days without washing.

Outside the window, a flash of lightning was followed by a thunderous crash that left the entire room vibrating and her ears ringing. The lights went out instantly. She saw her own ghastly face reflected in the glass window, looking gaunt and withered, nothing like her usual vibrant self.

Jiang Huaiyi’s voice trembled. “What is Xinmin Village?”

Shen Wensi raised an eyebrow. “The ghost village in the northern district.”

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