Transmigrating Behind the Mirror to Become Her Guardian Lady - Chapter 6

Early morning. 6:00 AM.

During this hour of early summer, the day has gradually awakened. Light breaks through the siege of night at the edge of the world; dawn has arrived.

A sliver of late-night light, a pale blue, filters through the gap in the curtains, stroking the person lying on the carpet in front of the mirror. She is currently sleeping peacefully, her head resting lightly on a jade-like arm. Her long, black, wavy hair is draped behind her in smooth, enchanting cascades, like a waterfall.

Below, the curves of her figure are outlined by her camisole nightgown—slender waist, shapely hips, and long legs. In the dimming light of the room, she looks like a beauty from a painter’s scroll.

“Mmm—”

The beauty on the carpet stirred. A soft, sleepy mumble echoed in the quiet room. She raised a hand to rub her eyes and slowly opened her star-like eyes, which were still misty with sleep.

As she saw the distant morning light shining through the window, Shu Mengli’s brain was still hazy; the world before her seemed to dance in a blur. It took several seconds for her eyes to adjust to the sight of her familiar light gauze curtains.

Shu Mengli was stunned, momentarily unable to figure out where she was. When she finally realized, her eyes snapped wide open. The trance vanished instantly, and she sprang up from the carpet.

Cozy interior design, cream-colored gauze curtains… everything that met her eyes was intensely familiar. This was the home she had lived in for nearly three years.

She had transmigrated back!

However, before the joy could surge into her heart, the spark was extinguished. Her eyes caught the mirror standing by the dining table, and her mind instantly cooled. She couldn’t help but scan it up and down, but the carved mirror that had caused her transmigration showed no abnormalities. It stood there quietly, beautiful and silent, its smooth surface clearly reflecting Shu Mengli’s face—just like an ordinary mirror.

But Shu Mengli knew it wasn’t ordinary. This was the culprit behind her experience last night!

But

Sitting on the carpet, Shu Mengli’s elegant brows knitted as she stared at the mirror. How did I suddenly come back? Was there a problem with the mirror? And why did I transmigrate into Jiang Weilu’s mirror in the first place?

She frowned, her heart full of questions for which she had no answers. She sat there on the soft carpet for a long while, hesitating, until her curiosity finally overcame her fear.

Shu Mengli slowly reached out toward the mirror. Finally, her porcelain-white fingertip touched the surface. A cool sensation traveled from her nerves to her brain, like touching a still lake in winter. But this time, the sensation was solid; her hand did not pass through. She pressed her finger down, leaving a small, delicate fingerprint on the glass.

No anomaly occurred. The mirror remained silent.

Empowered, she placed her entire palm against it, pressing firmly. The room remained windless and quiet. The carved mirror did not react; it was as if it truly were just an ordinary dressing mirror that had never exhibited anything strange.

It was as if the incredible, bizarre experiences of last night were merely a dream—false and unreal. Even Shu Mengli began to wonder: Was it really a dream?

However, just as that thought surfaced, Jiang Weilu’s face flashed in her mind. The girl’s panicked expression during their sudden separation was vividly etched before her—those large peach-blossom eyes filled with tears, practically crying as she begged Shu Mengli not to go.

That sadness was so real it remained branded in her memory. How could it be a dream?

Yet, the reality of the experience also brought a sense of cruelty. A look of worry appeared on Shu Mengli’s face. Her departure had been so sudden that she hadn’t even been able to react, let alone say a proper goodbye. The little girl must have been terrified seeing her vanish.

A person suddenly appears in her dark life, solemnly promising to protect her, only to vanish without a word—how heartbroken must the child be? Especially since they had promised to meet again tomorrow.

Shu Mengli bit her lip in frustration. I’m such a terrible adult for not keeping my promise. To think I had the nerve to call myself a Guardian God.

What if Lulu gets bullied again?

Shu Mengli looked at the mirror with eyes full of concern, momentarily forgetting the panic of her own transmigration. Will I transmigrate again? What is the purpose of that mirror space? Why was I forbidden from saying my name? What kind of world is Lulu’s a parallel dimension? A novel world? Or something else?

Everything was a mist of questions without answers.

“Ugh! This is such a headache.” Shu Mengli tapped her own head and stood up. She had to set the questions aside for now. After a while spent tapping and investigating the mirror to no avail, she returned to the bedroom, deciding to try again tonight.

In the Bedroom

Shu Mengli’s slender fingers picked up her phone from the nightstand. The time was clearly displayed: May 20, 2020, 6:30 AM.

Only three and a half hours had passed since she transmigrated last night. No, including the time it took her to wake up, only about three hours had passed; she had likely regained consciousness around 6:00 AM.

Shu Mengli stroked her chin. I was with Jiang Weilu for much longer than three hours. It seems the time flow between our two worlds is different. Perhaps it really is a parallel dimension?

Furthermore, the mirror space was extremely strange. While inside, her own time seemed to have stopped—she felt neither cold nor hungry. Upon returning, she felt as energized as if she had slept through the entire night.

As she sat quietly organizing her thoughts, a notification popped up on her phone, drawing her attention. She clicked it and scanned the message. Her expression changed.

At the Office

“Hey! Have you heard? About that thing!” “Huh? What thing?” “Oh, you know—the news that our magazine is being acquired!” “What! That’s crazy! Who could afford to swallow Fengxiang?”

The whispered, excited discussions from the outer office drifted into her ears. Shu Mengli looked down at the coffee dripping from the machine and shook her head with a light smile, understanding their concern. Once the final drop fell, she gripped the white porcelain handle and walked out.

The two girls caught mid-discussion jumped, their hearts skipping a beat when they saw her. They hurried to greet her.

“Good morning, Editor-in-chief Shu!”

Shu Mengli nodded slightly and gave a gentle smile. “Morning.” Then, her high heels clicked elegantly as she walked away.

The two nervous girls breathed a long sigh of relief. They were somewhat afraid of their Editor-in-chief.

Shu Mengli was a classic “femme fatale” type: long black waves, crimson lips, mature and seductive. The line of people pursuing her could fill the entire Fengxiang building. In reality, she was very easy to get along with gentle and fond of smiling.

BUT!

She was also a total workaholic with incredible talent and sharp methods. During meetings, she was intensely serious. No one wanted to be criticized by such a beautiful woman, so everyone worked their hardest, which actually boosted the company’s efficiency significantly. The young women in the office both feared and idolized her.

Now, the “adored yet feared” Shu Mengli was carrying her coffee into the Editor-in-Chief’s office. Upon entering, she saw Jiang Xin, the Editor-in-Chief, staring at a report with a miserable expression.

Shu Mengli sighed and placed the coffee on Jiang Xin’s desk. “I say, Editor Jiang, calling me into the office at 6:30 in the morning is a bit cruel, don’t you think?”

After a hectic night of transmigration, she had woken up only to be called in for overtime. She was certainly busy. When she had seen the message earlier, she thought Jiang Xin had turned into a literal ghost of deadlines.

Jiang Xin was Shu Mengli’s best friend. They graduated in the same year and joined Fengxiang together. Having fought side-by-side for so many years, they were both colleagues and sisters.

Hearing Shu Mengli, Jiang Xin began to “weep” dramatically. “Shu’er, you can’t abandon me!”

Shu Mengli appeared cold but was actually a softie. Once Jiang Xin started acting spoiled, she couldn’t bring herself to complain. She sighed. “The whole office is talking about the acquisition.”

“Yeah,” Jiang Xin pouted. “In about a month, Fengxiang will be completely under the Jiang Group. But that’s for the big shots to worry about. It won’t affect us much. I’m actually looking forward to leaning against such a big tree for shade.”

“But…” Shu Mengli frowned. “The Jiang Group has vast interests, but they’ve never been involved with magazines. Why suddenly buy Fengxiang?”

It was truly strange.

“Who knows?” Jiang Xin shrugged. “A titan like that can buy whatever they want. They don’t need reasons.”

Still, a top-tier magazine like Fengxiang cost billions. Buying it on a whim seemed excessively indulgent. Jiang Xin saw her concern and smiled. “Forget it, it’s none of our business. Want to go for a drink after work?” She gave a wink.

Normally, Shu Mengli might have agreed, but not today. If it weren’t for Jiang Xin’s urgent call to work on a proposal, she might have taken the day off. Now, she only wanted to go home and study the mirror to see if she could transmigrate again.

She shook her head. “Not today.”

Jiang Xin pouted immediately. “Ah! Baby, are you abandoning me? You heartless woman!”

Shu Mengli turned to leave without mercy. “Yes, I have another ‘little baby’ now. Bye!”

“Stop right there.”

There was a sound of something flying through the air. Shu Mengli turned and caught it. She opened her palm to find a round milk candy.

Jiang Xin winked at her. “Your overtime reward.”

Shu Mengli couldn’t help but smile as she walked out. A single piece of candy to dismiss me. But as she looked at the candy in her hand, a thought occurred: Children should like candy, right? I wonder if Lulu would like it.

Unfortunately, she might not even be able to bring items into the mirror space—in fact, she didn’t even know if she could get back in at all.

And it was strange… the group acquiring Fengxiang was named Jiang, and Lulu’s family was also named Jiang. Was there a connection? Or was it just a coincidence?

As she was lost in thought about Jiang Weilu, someone walking toward her interrupted her musings. The person had short, shoulder-length hair and exquisite makeup, but a serious, stern expression—a classic “cold beauty.” It was the Associate Editor-in-Chief of Fengxiang, Hao Wei.

But the moment she saw Shu Mengli, her expression softened. She hurried to her side. “Meng-meng, you like this candy?” She pulled more from her pocket, trying to please her. “Editor-in-Chief Jiang just gave—”

But Shu Mengli ignored her. The moment she saw this person, her expression turned cold. The normally gentle woman showed a chilling look for the first time; she walked right past Hao Wei without a glance, as if the other woman wasn’t even worth speaking to.

Behind her, Hao Wei’s hand remained frozen in mid-air for a long time before dropping powerlessly.

Back in the Mirror World

As for whether Jiang Weilu liked candy, the answer was no. She didn’t.

Her upbringing was extremely strict. Her father was a stern man who taught them that “one should not indulge in anything more than three times”—meaning they shouldn’t frequently touch things they loved, lest they develop dependencies and weaknesses.

When Jiang Weilu was about five, her stepmother—intending to target her—had enticed the young girl into eating an entire box of candy. Her father had happened to see it and scolded her severely.

At that time, Jiang Weilu felt that even though the candy was sweet, it tasted bitter in her mouth. Since then, she hadn’t liked candy.

If Shu Mengli were sitting in front of the water curtain right now, she would see that Jiang Weilu’s eyes were bloodshot from crying.

A whole night had passed since Shu Mengli vanished. Since her departure, Jiang Weilu had been cupping the mirror, calling out in a mix of anxiety and panic. She was afraid of drawing attention, so she didn’t dare speak too loudly.

She could only huddle under the covers and cry secretly, rubbing the mirror as she wept, stubbornly believing that if she just kept doing it, her sister would return. She repeated the motion mechanically until her hand was so sore it felt like it would fall off, but she didn’t dare stop.

She kept rubbing until the light dawned outside. Morning had arrived.

Jiang Weilu had stayed up the entire night. The tears had stopped, but her eyes were swollen and red, the whites filled with terrifying bloodshot veins. On the table nearby, the food the butler had managed to send in was cold and untouched.

But on the bed, Jiang Weilu continued to rub the mirror, stubbornly refusing to stop.

Sister, you’ll come back, right? You won’t leave me behind, right?