A Rude Awakening

Even without opening my eyes, I know something is wrong.

Very wrong.

Exceedingly wrong.

For starters, I know that my bedroom window faces north, so there is absolutely no way the sun can ever shine on my face to wake me, yet right now I can feel warm rays on my skin. Caressing my skin, if you want to be poetic about it, because it actually feels quite nice.

Wait, that’s not the point here. There’s a breeze that tugs at my hair, carrying the smell of smoke and roasted meat past my nose. So I am outside… and someone is having a picnic? Why would I be in a park? My fingers twitch and clutch some fabric, bunching it up in my fist.

“…rong-xiaojie?” (*)

Now there’s a voice I’ve never heard before. A hand tightens on my shoulder and suddenly I feel my body shift ever so slightly. Someone grasps my wrist and seems to feel for my pulse. I think I should open my eyes just a little to find out who has carried me from my bedroom… The sun does its thing and blinds me. I curse under my breath, bringing my hand up to shield me from the brightness.

“Ah, you’re awake. You scared me,” the one holding me says and there’s clear relief in his voice.

Me? Scared you? I have no idea who you are! I want to shout and I bite my tongue so I don’t. Is he a stalker? Who would even stalk me? Uh… Better not to get in his bad graces. I turn slightly, realising that the person is holding me while I half lay on the ground, legs stretched out. Did I faint? As far as I remember, I was already sleeping. Ah. This must be a dream. It’s this what they call lucid dreaming?

“Xiaojie…”

“Where am I?” I ask without taking the hand off my face. My sleeve smells faintly of flowers, sweet and inviting. I don’t even wear perfume, least of all to bed.

“At the canal near the market. Did you hit your head? I thought I caught you in time.”

Putting the story together, it does make sense. I can both hear and smell the water nearby, voices in the background. So he caught me when I presumably fainted? Yes, it makes sense, except…

“I’m supposed to be in bed!” I shout as I take my hand away and look up into my saviour’s face. He’s one of the most handsome men I have ever seen. Dark red hair frames a boyish face, blooming into a smile when our eyes meet. He has most of his hair drawn up into a ponytail, fastened with some cloth wrapped around it, a golden hairpin stuck through, from which several red stones dangle on golden chains, glinting in the sunlight. But they aren’t more luminous than his eyes, which are a strange mix of white, yellow and gold, like paint dipped in water. He wears makeup, I realise with curiosity, black coal lining his eyes to perfection.

“Well, I can take you to bed, if you so desire, Murong-xiaojie.”

“Who?”

“What?”

We stare at each other for a moment, then I look behind him, to where several onlookers have grouped up to enjoy the show. They are wearing clothes straight from a costume drama and some of them are carrying props like baskets and bundles of wood. One child is munching noisily on a piece of bread as she stares right at me, seemingly daring me to say something about it. I look at the sky above me, which is completely blue, without a single cloud in sight, then to my left, where water is flowing through a straight, stone-lined channel, some small boats floating along.

“Where am I? Who are you?”

“She did hit her head,” one of the women behind the handsome man says. She’s clearly a bystander, but she has opinions which need to be voiced. “You can’t even catch a fainting woman. What are we calling you playboy for?”

“I never asked you to call me that!” the man holding me hisses. I suppose the hair on his body would stand up if he was a cat.

I shift in his arms, trying to get out of them, but he holds me closer instead. With a sigh I look down and catch a glimpse of my clothes. Somehow I’m also wearing period drama clothing. The robe is of a light blue hue, with straight, closely fitting sleeves and a belt that’s decorated with silver ornaments. I glance at the ground next to me and startle when I see an actual sword just casually lying there, with a white and silver sheath, a blue tassel tied to the hilt.

“What in the actual—”

“Shimei!” (**)

I look up to find another impossibly beautiful man pushing his way past the bystanders, who complain loudly at the treatment. What is this? An Otome game?

“No, thank you,” I mumble before looking closer at him. “I’m not dealing with any of this. You can’t make me.”

With some force I push away from Mr Handsome Number One, who seems so surprised by my actions that he actually falls backwards, releasing me in the process. I have about two seconds to celebrate my escape before I tumble over the edge of the canal, right into the water.

One moment I am falling, seemingly suspended in midair, the next I am crashing through the water surface. The unexpected impact takes my breath away as the water both gives way and punches me into my stomach. I shout in pain, which is the wrong thing to do as water rushes into my mouth and a sinking dread fills me along with it. I flail, wet clothes slowing my movement and dragging me under. Suddenly I don’t know where up and down is and I panic. Everything around me is blue and green, glittering sunlight and bubbles of air.

A hand on my back startles me so much I shout again—but this time there is no water. My mouth is empty and I suck in a breath of impossible air, coughing as I curl into myself. The first thing I realise when I dare open my eyes again, is that the bubbles have stopped, hanging in front of me like a curtain of glass pearls. I pass my hand through them, feeling the difference between air and water on my skin. A small fish is floating motionless between the bubbles, suspended… I swallow. This has to be a dream. There’s no way time has stopped. There’s—

“Hello.”

I shriek, completely undignified, the hand that has reached out to touch the fish jolting… and actually punching the fish, which flies away into the distance like a baseball for a homerun. I follow it with my eyes until it disappears in the distant murky waters, muttering a thousand apologies in my head.

“Well, that’s a first…”

The person behind me is clearly amused, a smile in their voice. I steel myself, even though this is just a dream, and turn my head. Floating in the still water I can see someone with long white hair and an equally long robe with countless layers, fanning out around them like the fins of fighting fish, swaying gently. Against the darker waters, everything about them seems impossibly bright and I squint until I get used to the contrast. They wear no jewellery or other accessories, except a yellow flower in their hair above the left ear. I can’t tell if they’re a man or woman.

“Can I wake up now?”

“Since you aren’t sleeping, that would be difficult.”

“Sure, pull the other one.”

“The other what?”

I groan. “Well, if I’m not about to wake up, then I may as well play along. Who are you? Where am I?”

“I am a god and this is my world.”

As they say the word ‘god’, their eyes start shining golden for a moment, an intricate pattern of lines blooming on the visible skin, before fading out once more. I flinch as the person is suddenly mere centimetres in front of my face, eyes as deep as galaxies staring into mine.

“Welcome to my world,” they say, and for just a moment, their voice is as broad and heavy as an ocean.

“… thank you?” I manage to whisper, suspended as I am, not even able to move away in fear.

“That’s quite alright. I see my form frightens you. Which guise would you prefer? A man? A woman?”

They shift into a body looking not unlike the man who held me at the side of the canal, only their hair is still white. Then into a beautiful woman, clad in vestments fit for an empress. Then into an old man, looking wise beyond their years.

“Something ordinary…” I say.

“Very well.”

They shift again, into a man clad in a simple, white robe, hair pulled up into a knot on top of his head. His features are still anything but ordinary. With a sigh he pats some invisible dust from his clothes and then touches his ears, feeling the shape of them. So that’s what normal is to him? With such a face, he’d be the most adored actor or idol in my world.

“Now, I suppose you have questions.”

“Not that I’ll remember anything when I wake up, because I never remember my dreams, but for the moment, yes. What should I call you?”

“Mhm, you can call me Gui. I don’t have a name, but I like the word.”

“Gui as in ‘ghost’? ‘Expensive’?”

“Very funny. Gui as in ‘rules’.”

“And what exactly are you a god of, Gui?”

“Well, I have been tasked to supervise this world. Make sure it stays on a desirable course for the majority of its inhabitants. And that is why you are here. I’ve been looking for a solution to a particularly tricky problem for a long time and your idea is ingenious.”

No matter where I am, if it’s a dream or not, it’s always nice to be complimented, so I can’t help but smile a little. I don’t know what I’m complimented for, but you take what you can get.

“I don’t know what idea you mean, though?”

“We’ll get to that. You’re going to help me win this one.”

“Who are you winning against?”

“In the spirit of good cooperation I’ll tell you.”

“Good cooperation? Do I even have a choice?”

Gui shrugs. “Not really, but I’d rather you show effort regardless. You see, I really need to win this one. If I get one more commendation on my record, I can get promoted to—Why are you looking at me like that?”

I stare at this so-called god, at the frozen water with bubbles and fishes around him, and sigh a big sigh.

“Ah, I was just admiring the imagination my dreaming brain has. I wish I could come up with half this while I’m awake. Writing would be so much easier.”

“You’re not sleeping. I summoned you to this world in your sleep, yes, but you have woken up since.”

For a moment I almost believe him, but I quickly put the possibility out of mind. There’s no way I fell right into the most overused fiction trope of the recent decade. No way. All these stories have given me unreasonable expectations.

“Say I decide to believe you… why me? Have I died?”

“No, no. You’re absolutely fine. In fact I can make you wake up back in your world at any time and it would be as if you’ve never left.”

“So do that?”

“No.”

“No?”

“You’re going to win this for me. I can’t send you back yet. I won’t. Not until you solve the problem.”

—

(*) xiaojie = young lady

(**) shimei = younger martial arts sister