Sū Wǎntáng clutched the deed to the villa, its crisp edges a tangible promise of a fresh start. This rental apartment, with its lingering scent of cheap detergent and stale despair, held no more appeal. Moving quickly, Sū Wǎntáng packed the few meager belongings she had acquired. Her clothes, a worn notebook, the small bag of jewelry. The apartment key clinked against the counter. She left it there, a symbol of her severing ties with the Sū family’s lingering influence. No more. Her future lay elsewhere, far from their shadow. Hours later, a battered taxi dropped her off on a cracked, overgrown asphalt path. Towering iron gates, rusted and askew, marked the entrance to the address on the deed. Beyond them, a dense thicket of unkempt foliage fought for dominance, obscuring much of the property from view. An uneasy quiet settled over the area, broken only by the chirping of unseen insects. Stepping through the broken gate, Sū Wǎntáng felt the crunch of dead leaves beneath her worn sneakers. Weeds, thick and relentless, pushed through every crack in the path, testament to years of neglect. The air hung heavy with the scent of damp earth and decay. She pushed deeper into the overgrown grounds. Finally, a structure emerged from the botanical chaos. It wasn't just old; it was ancient, or at least appeared that way. The villa stood silhouetted against the fading afternoon sky, a hulking, somber presence. Its once-grand facade was now marred by peeling paint and dark streaks of moisture. Windows, many boarded up or shattered, stared out like vacant, accusing eyes. Ivy, thick as a man's arm, snaked across the stone walls, reclaiming the architecture brick by painstaking brick. A loose shutter banged rhythmically in the faint breeze, a lonely heartbeat in the vast silence. Most people would call this place a haunted house. Sū Wǎntáng simply saw opportunity. Her expression remained neutral. Ugly? Abandoned? Perfect. No one would bother her here. No prying eyes, no unexpected visitors. This was a sanctuary, a blank slate for her new life. She pushed open a heavy, creaking front door that sagged precariously on its hinges. A gust of stale, musty air rushed out to meet her, carrying the unmistakable scent of disuse. Inside, dust motes danced in the slivers of light filtering through the grimy windows. Cobwebs draped from every corner, ghostly curtains swaying in the faint drafts. Furniture lay covered in white sheets, ghostly shapes in the gloom. The silence inside was even deeper, muffling the sounds of the outside world. Sū Wǎntáng walked through the cavernous rooms, her footsteps echoing. Most of the furniture seemed salvageable, though covered in years of grime. She chose a small room on the second floor, one with a relatively intact window and less visible water damage. It felt less oppressive than the grander, emptier spaces. She began to work. Clearing cobwebs, sweeping away dust, wiping down the grimy surfaces with an old cloth she found in a dusty cupboard. It was slow, tedious work especially in this useless body, but with each swipe, a sliver of the room's former life, a hint of cleanliness, emerged. The room began to feel less like a crypt and more like a space she could inhabit. Hours passed. Her muscles ached, her clothes were smudged with dirt, but the room was finally habitable. A clear patch of floor, a small table, and a tattered armchair she'd dusted off. She spread her meager blanket on the floor, planning to sleep directly on it for the night. Exhaustion gnawed at her, a deep, bone-weary fatigue. She lay down, closing her eyes, allowing the darkness to claim her. Thoughts of the day, the villa, her future, swirled through her mind. She drifted, on the edge of sleep, when a strange sensation washed over her. Not a dream, not a memory, but a pulling, a faint but distinct tug at her very essence. It felt familiar, yet utterly impossible. Her eyes snapped open. The dusty, dark room was gone. Instead, she was standing in a brightly lit, sterile environment. White walls, gleaming chrome, beeping monitors. The distinct, antiseptic scent of her old laboratory filled her nostrils, a smell she thought she’d never experience again. Her heart hammered against her ribs, a frantic drumbeat of disbelief and burgeoning hope. Impossible. Her lab. The place she’d built with her own two hands, equipped with every piece of cutting-edge medical technology and ancient herbal knowledge. It had been consumed by the fire, just like her old body. Yet, here it was. Her personal medical sanctuary, perfectly intact, down to the last meticulously labeled vial. She rushed to a row of cryogenic storage units. Inside, rare herbs, some thought extinct for centuries, glowed faintly. She checked the liquid nitrogen levels – full. She moved to the automated synthesis machines, their power lights blinking green. Her advanced microscopes, her genomic sequencers, her entire library of medical texts and ancient scrolls – all here. Every single item she had accumulated over a lifetime of dedicated research and practice. Most shocking of all, she noticed a faint, ethereal glow emanating from some of the empty shelves and half-used containers. She picked up a small bottle, once filled with a potent painkiller she’d synthesized. It was half empty, but as she watched, a tiny, almost imperceptible shimmer pulsed at the bottom, and the liquid slowly, steadily, began to refill itself. Regeneration. Her savings. Hidden within a reinforced safe disguised as a bookshelf, stacks of gold bricks, ancient coins, and precious gems gleamed. Not just the cash she’d been converting, but the true wealth she’d amassed. And they, too, seemed to have a faint, replenished aura. Her lab hadn't just transmigrated; it had transcended. An ecstatic laugh bubbled from her throat, a sound she hadn't made in either of her lives. This was more than a new beginning; it was a miracle. With her lab, she had everything. Resources, knowledge, and the means to cultivate her new body, to transform it from its current, ridiculed state into something truly magnificent. Sū Wǎntáng made a decision. She would enter seclusion. No distractions, no worries about the outside world. Her new life could wait. Her transformation, her cultivation, had to take priority. She had an entire medical arsenal at her fingertips, a private dimension where time seemed to flow differently, where her old self could truly be reborn. Days turned into weeks, then months, within the confines of her transmigrated laboratory. She devoured rare elixirs, practiced ancient cultivation techniques, and used her advanced machines to analyze and optimize every aspect of her physical form. The fat melted away, replaced by lean, elegant muscle. Her skin, once sallow and blemished, became flawless, luminous, like polished jade. Her eyes, previously hidden behind swollen lids, opened to reveal depths of obsidian, framed by long, dark lashes. Her features refined, her nose straightening, her lips gaining a natural, delicate curve. Her hair, once dull and coarse, grew thick and lustrous, a raven black stream. Every imperfection, every trace of the previous body's history, was meticulously erased. She stood before a full-length mirror, a stranger staring back. But this stranger was undeniably her, the true Sū Wǎntáng, unleashed and perfected. No longer the ugly duckling, she was a breathtaking beauty, radiating an ethereal glow, an aura of refined power and intellect. Her transformation was complete. Finally, the time came to emerge. She focused, and with a familiar tug, the sterile white walls of her lab dissolved, replaced by the dusty, dimly lit room in the villa. The difference was stark. The room still bore the marks of neglect, but Sū Wǎntáng herself was a beacon of pristine perfection. Her first priority was the villa. It was a mess, but now, with her renewed strength and resources, it was a manageable project. She envisioned a tranquil haven, a place where she could live comfortably and continue her research without interruption. Secretly, of course. No one needed to know the true extent of her abilities or her hidden sanctuary. Stepping out of the small room, she surveyed the gloomy hallway. A wave of cool air brushed against her skin.

Shocking News