“Open your eyes, Chang Kai girl!”

Something soft was patting my face, even prying at my eyelids.

I groggily opened my eyes and saw a familiar ceiling. That sterile hospital smell crept into my nose. The mismatch between memory and setting jolted my brain into clarity.

Wait a second—hadn’t I already gone home? Why am I back in the hospital?

I sat up on the bed. Pale moonlight spilled across my legs. No cast. Just a pair of clean feet poking out from my hospital pants—soft, pale toes free from plaster.

A white-haired loli in a pink-and-white nurse outfit stood beside my bed, frantically smacking my arm. Each tap sent a rhythmic ripple through my oversized breasts.

Right. This is a dream.

After nearly a month in a cast, I finally moved my right foot again. Since her head was conveniently close, I reached over and gave it a good rub. Her hair was soft—almost as satisfying as petting Tangerine’s tail.

“Master. Long time no see.”

She didn’t respond with her usual elegant, laid-back tone. Instead, she smacked my hand away, visibly agitated.

“Long time my a̲s̲s̲! You dimwit disciple, you still haven’t completed this month’s quota!”

“Ah!”

I knew I’d forgotten something.

I never got around to using the marker on Tan Rinka’s name. With the broken leg, I’d gotten lazy and completely let it slip.

And now—it’s August 31st. If I don’t complete the quota before midnight, I’m going to be extremely unlucky!

“Crap! What time is it outside? Wake me up already!”

She let out a deep sigh. “Now you’re panicking? Relax, you still have time. I actually came here tonight for something else too.”

Halliluya-sensei gave a little hop onto the bed. I pulled my legs in to make room. She kicked off her white canvas shoes, folded her white-stockinged legs, and twisted around to face me. In the moonlight, her fluffy white hair seemed to glow.

The way she was sitting—if I looked down, I’d probably see her panties.

“The notebook told me you fractured your leg.”

I nodded. Yeah, been busted up for over two weeks now, thanks for noticing.

“Master… can’t you use your divine powers to heal me? Otherwise it’s gonna be hard to finish the quota…”

“No can do. But don’t panic—I've got another solution.”

She leaned in close, speaking conspiratorially. “Chang Kai girl, remember how I promised to give you a special treasure?”

I made a face.

Honestly, I’d completely forgotten.

The Party says: never withhold wages from your workers. Yet here we are—she promised it as a reward for finishing July’s quota, and now it’s the end of August and still nothing.

“What kind of treasure?”

“Weren’t you troubled about your friend?”

I thought for a moment. She must mean Zhao Zhao.

“So I made this treasure especially for that.”

She pulled a transparent bookmark from her nurse outfit’s pocket. Looked like plastic. A hole was punched at one end with a white ribbon tied through it. Super simple. The kind of thing no one would even pick up off the ground.

I took it and examined both sides, flexed it a little in my hand, but couldn’t figure out what it was supposed to do.

“So… how do you use this? What does it do?”

“Notebook.”

At her call, the Bishoujo Notebook materialized out of thin air, smacked into my chest, bounced, and landed on the bed.

“This bookmark is an accessory for the notebook. To use it, you’ll need to channel its power.”

She opened the notebook and placed the bookmark over the “Holder” entry. Through the transparent plastic, I could see my name—“Chang Kai”—written in permanent marker.

“Okay, now trace your name over it with a pencil.”

I didn’t know what would happen, but I did as instructed. Despite feeling like plastic, the bookmark wrote on like paper—no slipping.

Stroke by stroke, I finished tracing.

And then… nothing happened.

Even Master Halliluya looked surprised. She waited a bit, but still nothing. She picked up the bookmark, checked it front and back, then glanced at me, a little frown forming on her face. A string of white question marks practically floated above her little head.

“That’s weird. Why didn’t it work?”

“You’re asking me? I don’t know either!”

She rubbed the bookmark against her flushed little cheek like that would help, but still came up empty.

“According to my design, once you wrote your name, you were supposed to split.”

Wait. Split?

So she made this herself?! And what does split even mean?

Am I supposed to literally split in half? That’s… horrifying.

And she still hadn’t explained what the bookmark was actually supposed to do.

Still looking baffled, the white-haired loli climbed off the bed. She leaned over, erased my name from the bookmark with an eraser, stuck it back in the notebook, and tossed the whole thing back to me.

“Anyway, the bookmark’s yours now. Try it again once you’re awake. I need to go back and research this.”

“Okay.”

She held up a tiny hand, snapped her fingers (inaudibly), and everything around me went black.

When I opened my eyes again, I was staring up at the dark ceiling of my bedroom.

Ever since that yakuza guy moved in next door, I’ve kept my curtains shut 24/7. You get a bit of light during the day, but at night, without the lamp, you can’t see a single thing.

This time, I woke up fast. The thought of my unfinished quota still weighed heavy on my chest.

I rolled over and slapped my digital alarm clock. Its green LED display glowed faintly.

11:11.

Great. The loneliest number. Just my luck.

I perched on my desk chair, propped my right leg up, and gave a push with my unbroken left foot. The chair rolled across the carpet to my desk.

I flicked on the lamp. My eyes, long accustomed to darkness, screamed in protest.

There it was: the Bishoujo Notebook, resting quietly on my desk. The only difference was inside, there’s that same simple plastic bookmark—identical to the one in the dream.

First things first—the quota.

I grabbed my marker and outlined the name “Tan Rinka.”

Nothing happened.

My heart sank. Could it be that Rinka is not considered as “unfortunate”? Or maybe she hasn’t fully accepted her new identity yet?

But just as despair crept in, the three characters finally turned gold.

No idea if Notebook-sama was showing mercy or just messing with me, but either way, the weight on my chest finally lifted.

Next up—this useless bookmark.

I followed the same steps as in the dream: laid it over my name and traced it again with a pencil.

Still… nothing.

Or so I thought—until a sudden wave of dizziness crashed over me. My limbs gave out, and I slumped back in my chair, head spinning, completely powerless.

A ball of white light materialized in midair. The same kind of magical effect that happens when Xiao Lei and the others transform. Little stars flew out of it as always.

The intense glow soon filled the entire room. I couldn’t even open my eyes.

Gold stars rained down on me, and my consciousness started slipping from my body. I was floating upward, into the white light…

I could no longer feel my body. I couldn’t move. Couldn’t see. Couldn’t hear. Couldn’t breathe. No touch, no voice—just my mind, still barely functioning.

I had no idea how long that terrifying state lasted. Could’ve been seconds, could’ve been minutes. But every second felt like eternity.

Is this what Rinka and the others go through when they transform?

Finally, my body started to come back. I opened my eyes—no more white light.

I was lying on the floor. The ceiling looked incredibly far away. I could feel the carpet under my back. Cool air from the old AC brushed across my breasts…

...Ah.

Gulp.

I swallowed hard, flipped over, and lay face down, smothering two jiggly orbs beneath me. The squishy pressure made it hard to breathe.

“Why did I—ugh, I mean—why did I turn into a girl in real life too!?”