"After seeing so many people, and hearing so many stories, Ethan Zhang, tell me—what is it, truly, that drives you to witness all this?"
I stared quietly at the Soulreaver Blade. Just then, a whistling sound rose behind me—my six ghost souls had returned, and my connection to them was restored.
"Answer him, Ethan. You can speak now—the answer has long been carved into your heart."
Spirit Snake called out. I looked quietly at Belle.
"For the past... for the future... and for everything missing now. The fragments that remain have long been inside me, beautiful. All of this—the merging of human and ghost—among everything I've witnessed, those who fight for survival, for ideals, for what matters most, both people and ghosts... To see all this, I feel fortunate. Each of them has something called faith, and these colliding beliefs, this is what makes a person... and a ghost..."
"Go, Ethan Zhang. Only you can help Cecilia. She is still weeping, still loves her beloved Fan, but cannot see him, so she cries; cannot touch him, so she grieves. At last, someone in this world can witness my true form—and that person is you, Ethan Zhang..."
The Belle in my grasp emitted a faint green glow, growing brighter and enveloping me. Everything before my eyes was immersed in a vivid green world, and gradually, an unusual pink hue seeped through the green—beautiful and strange.
When I opened my eyes again, I looked around in astonishment. Before me stood lifelike statues, each as real as a living person—I was utterly shocked.
Statues of Belle surrounded me—above, below, all around. Each one was different, graceful in form, vivid and lifelike: sorrowful, angry, joyful, content. Every Belle before me wore a unique expression.
What shocked me most—beyond words—was that each Belle's face was distinct, exquisitely crafted. Any one of them, in this world, would be considered a peerless beauty.
Slowly, I drifted toward a Belle statue on my right. She wore a flowing, purple-red gown like dancing mist—soft yet elegant, her figure graceful, her face radiant. An irresistible urge overcame me, and I reached out to touch her.
Instantly, I pulled my hand back. There was a sensation—these Belles weren't mere statues. They felt real.
"Hey, kid! What are you groping for? Never seen a woman before?"
I stepped back and stared at the Belle before me—she spoke in a man's voice. I was stunned, speechless for a long moment.
Suddenly, the whole place erupted in noise—old voices, children's voices, men's, women's.
It took me a while to understand. They'd once been souls, but after entering here, regardless of age or gender, they'd all been shaped into the image of a woman I couldn't see.
I kept looking around. The souls fell silent again, as if returning to stillness. In this place filled with Belles, I searched everywhere, but after a long time, I realized I was just circling in place.
This place truly was like Mirage Hall. The number of Belles was equal, but each looked different. I was completely bewildered.
"Does any of you know where the woman who turned you into this is?"
I asked, but there was only silence. Then I felt a gentle touch on my back. I shivered, goosebumps rising, and spun around instantly.
There was nothing behind me. I wondered if it was just an illusion, but as soon as I turned around, someone stroked my cheek. This time, I truly felt it—someone was there. I reached out, trying to grab whoever touched me, but my hand grasped only empty air.
This happened several times—I never caught the one gently caressing me.
"Cecilia, is that you? Are you here?"
I shouted, but only my own voice echoed around me—no other sound. I sat down, thinking hard about how I might meet Cecilia.
I don't know how much time passed, but I still found nothing. Then, I heard a soft whisper.
"Who is it? Is someone there?"
I shouted again.
With a whoosh, I felt a gentle breeze brush past my left cheek—a pink wind, swirling by, then vanishing.
"Miss Cecilia, is that you? Could you come out and talk?"
Just then, I felt something strange on my left cheek. When I touched it, I was stunned—the skin that had been rough was now soft and smooth. I thought I was imagining things, so I touched my right cheek—rough skin, completely different from the left.
"What on earth is happening?"
As I wondered, the pink wind swept by again. I dodged—it was best not to let it touch me.
After dodging, I watched the pink wind's path. It vanished once more into this darkness, where only Belles existed.
Just then, a breeze rose beneath my feet. I hurried to dodge, but my lower half was engulfed by the pink wind—I cried out in shock.
But nothing seemed to happen—until suddenly, I felt emptiness between my legs. I screamed, and my voice became as sharp as a woman's.
Gone—what marked me as a man was gone, replaced by a woman's. Terror gripped me. I looked around frantically—I couldn't let that pink wind touch me again, or I'd be completely transformed into a woman.
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I touched my chest—thankfully, it was still normal. With a rush, I dodged again, and the pink wind missed me.
"What's wrong? Don't want to? To become a beautiful woman—deep down, you crave it, don't you? To be a Belle desired by every man in the world."
A gentle female voice drifted over, and I shouted back at once.
"Miss Cecilia, is that you? If so, please come out—I'm here to help you."
I shouted. Suddenly, gusts of wind blew from all directions. I dodged, but unfortunately, the wind struck me head-on. Instantly, I felt heavy—my chest swelled with proud, firm breasts, my waist narrowed, and my hips widened.
Panting, I looked around. My hands had changed—ten slender, smooth fingers, delicate and feminine. Women's hands.
Now, the only part of me that wasn't a woman's was my right cheek.
"Hehe, not bad—you've become quite beautiful. Just a little more to go."
The whistling continued, pink winds blowing again and again. I dodged each time, but now I understood—if I fully became a woman, I'd end up just like the others, completely under Cecilia's control.
In this space, I couldn't use any powers at all. If this continued, I'd be helpless.
Just then, a gust of wind passed through my midsection. I managed to shield my right cheek. I realized that the parts already transformed wouldn't be affected again—and could even block the pink wind.
Strangely, I felt someone touching my chest—it tickled, uncomfortable. I looked away, searching the shadows.
"Miss Cecilia, can we talk? I'm here to help you—please, listen to me."
Before I could finish, more and more pink winds swept over me. This time, dodging wasn't so easy—there was nowhere left to run. I was about to be completely transformed into a woman.
And this wasn't just a simple change—it was a true transformation. Male and female ghost souls are fundamentally different: the Thirteen Ghost Gates are completely opposed. Their positions might shift, but they remain in conflict—left for men, right for women, or so it goes.
I could feel it—within my ghost souls, twelve Ghost Gates had already turned feminine, standing opposite the male ones I'd had before.
Seeing I was about to be completely changed, I panicked. Suddenly, the name Fan Li came to mind.
"I know where Fan Li is. Cecilia, if you want to see him, stop this."
As I shouted, the pink winds halted before me.
"You say... you know where that heartless man is?"
A faint, mournful female voice sounded. The pink winds turned to mist, gathering together. Within the haze appeared half a stunning face—it was Cecilia. I'd seen her before, always so breathtaking, even if only half her face showed.
"Go on, tell me."
With a whoosh, everything vanished. I crashed to the ground. The sound of rushing water reached my ears—a rolling river under cold moonlight. Cecilia stood by the shore, staring blankly at me.
"Let me say this—help me change back first. This woman's body is a bit of a nuisance."
I was still in a woman's form, my chest aching from the swollen curves.
"There's no way. Once you've been touched by me, you become a woman."
I gasped, staring wide-eyed at Cecilia.
"Miss Cecilia, please, don't joke with me."