Dream Comes True

Some lives are loud. Hers was quiet. Too quiet. She was a first-year college student—average marks, average presence, average life. Eighty out of a hundred was her comfort zone. Not low enough to worry her teachers. Not high enough to make them proud. She existed somewhere in the middle rows of the classroom, where people rarely looked twice. Her mother had passed away early, leaving behind a house that functioned—but never truly felt warm. Her father worked long hours. He cared, but time was a luxury neither of them had. And her grandmother? Strict. Traditional. Unyielding. Pets were absolutely not allowed. So she learned early how to keep her wishes small. Books became her escape. Especially translated Chinese novels—stories of forgotten girls, ancient empires, fate-changing artifacts, and systems that rewarded perseverance. Sometimes, she wondered: “If someone like me entered such a world… would anything change?” She laughed at herself every time. Fantasy was safer than hope. That evening, after buying a newly released novel she had been waiting for, fate brushed past her quietly—on four tiny paws. A kitten. Cold. Thin. Shaking. Around its neck hung a dull, cracked stone, tied with a worn thread. It didn’t look precious, yet something about it tugged at her heart. She didn’t hesitate. Instead of taking it home, she took it to a shelter. She paid the fee. Bought food. Sat with it until it ate. She smiled through the ache in her chest. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “Grandma would never allow you… But I hope you find a good family soon.” Only when she stood up to leave did she notice— The stone was no longer on the kitten. It was in her pocket. That night, curled up in her room, she opened her new novel—an ancient Chinese story about an emperor and his consorts, full of danger, politics, and forgotten princesses. Her eyes grew heavy. Then— Something poked her thigh. She frowned, reaching into her pocket. The stone. Warm. She stared at it for a long moment. Without realizing it, she rubbed it gently between her fingers. “I’m really sorry,” she murmured again. “I hope you’ll be adopted soon.” The stone pulsed. Light exploded. And the world collapsed. She woke up unable to breathe. The air felt thick—heavy with incense and age. Silk curtains brushed her fingers. The ceiling above her was carved with unfamiliar patterns. Ancient. Very ancient. She sat up in shock. Strange women surrounded her—clothed in robes, hair tied in intricate styles. They spoke rapidly, voices sharp with panic. But she understood nothing. Not a single word. Her heart slammed violently. “Where am I…?” Her body felt wrong. Smaller. Weaker. Before fear could fully take shape, darkness swallowed her again. When she woke up the second time, an old man—clearly a doctor—was checking her pulse. Pain flared in her head. And suddenly, understanding struck. “Ancient… clothes… language…” Her breath hitched. “Did I… time travel?” Excitement flickered through the panic. If this is a n*********d… then there must be a system, right? She tried calling it. “System?” “Status?” “Hello…?” Nothing. Silence. Her excitement shattered instantly. “Wait—no system?” Her chest tightened. No language skills. No knowledge. No system. “What am I supposed to do?!” Her thoughts spiraled. They’ll find out I’m not her. They’ll think I’m possessed. I don’t even understand what they’re saying— Her hand brushed against something cold. The stone. Her eyes widened. “You brought me here…” Panicking, she rubbed it again. “What do I do—what do I do—” Light flared. And she was back. Her room. Her bed. Her phone was buzzing with notifications. No time had passed. She sat up slowly. “So… this stone…” Her lips trembled. “…is a bridge.” Between modern times. And ancient times. Her excitement faded when reality crept back in. She opened her purse. Turned it upside down on the bed. Coins. Folded notes. She counted them carefully. Once. Twice. Her brows knit together. “If I order the hearing device… it’ll just be enough.” She stared at the money. If she didn’t order it, she’d have more left. Enough to eat in the canteen whenever she wanted. Enough for small comforts. She lay back, staring at the ceiling. “If I don’t order it…” “I won’t survive there.” Another thought followed immediately. “I’ll just eat at home.” Simple. Manageable. She sat up. Decision made. She placed the order. A few hours later, the doorbell rang. Her grandmother’s voice followed. “What had arrived so late?” Her heart jumped. She opened the door. “It was personal care items she had run out of,” she said quickly. Her grandmother nodded. Her grandmother only advised her to order things earlier next time and reminded her to sleep properly before heading back to her room. The door closed. Silence returned. Back in her room, she put on the hearing device. Opened a Chinese drama. No subtitles. A voice spoke. She understood. Perfectly. Her eyes widened. A soft laugh escaped her. “It works…” She looked at the stone. This time—no fear. Only curiosity. “If something happens…” “…I can come back immediately.” She wore the stone around her neck. Adjusted the device properly. Lay down. Closed her eyes. And rubbed the stone. Light bloomed. Far away, in an ancient palace filled with candlelight, The Ninth Princess opened her eyes once more.