After Swapping Bodies, the Princess and I Became Each Other’s Cheat Code - Chapter 7

After walking down a short hallway, Zhou Lecheng pushed open a pink door. Chu Yue found herself in a room smaller than the main living area, its walls plastered with colorful papers—portraits of various characters and stickers. Several fluffy plush toys were piled on the bed, each with its own unique and endearing appearance. The dressing table was crowded with bottles and jars.

“Your room… Do you remember it?” Zhou Lecheng asked expectantly, a flicker of hope in her eyes.

Chu Yue slowly shook her head, her gaze filled with disappointment and confusion. Her attention, however, was drawn to a small photo frame on the bedside table. She unconsciously walked over and picked it up. The photo showed “her” and a middle-aged woman, leaning close together with radiant smiles. The background was a golden field of wheat, its waves rippling in the gentle breeze, brimming with life and warmth.

“That’s you and your mom, taken last year when you went back to your hometown,” Zhou Lecheng explained softly, her voice tinged with tenderness. “You loved this photo so much. You said it made you miss home every time you saw it.”

Chu Yue stared at the radiant smile of “herself” in the photograph, a strange tightness gripping her chest as an indescribable emotion surged through her. This woman named Jiang Tian had loved ones in another place who cherished her deeply, their familial bond radiating warmth and sincerity.

“I want… to wash my face,” Chu Yue suddenly said, needing a moment alone to clear her thoughts and temporarily escape this chaotic world.

Zhou Lecheng pointed to a small door. “The bathroom’s over there. Do you need any help?”

“No, thank you,” Chu Yue replied, almost fleeing into the small room. She closed the door, as if sealing herself off from the unfamiliar world outside.

The sight before her once again stunned her—a snow-white porcelain basin embedded in the countertop, its surface smooth as a mirror and gleaming with a soft light. Above it hung a massive mirror, reflecting her current appearance with startling clarity. Her oval face, large eyes, and naturally upturned lips, though slightly pale from her injuries, still revealed the lively and cheerful young woman she was.

This wasn’t her face, though the two faces looked identical and the reflection in the mirror appeared to be her age. Their demeanors were strikingly different; the reflection carried a hint of melancholy that wasn’t present in her own expression.

She tentatively touched the silver handle beside the porcelain basin. Instantly, a stream of clear water gushed forth, splashing onto her hands and bringing a refreshing coolness that sharpened her awareness of her absurd predicament.

“What kind of sorcery is this…?” Chu Yue murmured to herself, her voice echoing in the cramped space. Trembling, she cupped the water and splashed it on her face. The icy sensation spread from her cheeks to her entire body, attempting to dispel the fear and confusion that gripped her heart.

When she looked up, she noticed a strange device mounted on the wall, resembling a showerhead, yet there was no sign of servants carrying water nearby. A small shelf beside it was lined with bottles and jars labeled with unfamiliar terms like “facial cleanser” and “body wash,” deepening her bewilderment.

Curious, Chu Yue picked up a pink bottle and examined it for a moment. She accidentally pressed the pump on top, and a burst of pink foam shot onto her face.

“Ah!” she gasped, frantically wiping at it with her hands. A sweet, strawberry scent filled the air, its peculiar aroma easing her tense nerves slightly.

From outside the door, Zhou Lecheng’s concerned voice called out, “Tiantian? Are you okay?”

“Y-yes! I’m fine!” Chu Yue replied hastily, rushing to rinse the foam off her face under the faucet. This place was far too dangerous; every object seemed to conceal hidden mechanisms, ready to deliver a sudden shock.

She took several deep breaths, struggling to calm her racing heart, and mustered the courage to step out of the bathroom. Zhou Lecheng had already changed into loose-fitting loungewear and was sitting on the sofa, fiddling with a glowing tablet. Her fingers glided swiftly across the screen as she stared intently, occasionally breaking into a knowing smile.

“Hungry? I ordered takeout. It should be here soon,” Zhou Lecheng said without looking up, her tone casual and friendly.

Takeout? Chu Yue had no idea what the word meant, but she was utterly exhausted, both physically and mentally. She simply nodded silently and carefully sat down on the edge of the sofa, her eyes darting around the room, trying to glean more clues about this strange world.

“Oh, right!” Zhou Lecheng suddenly looked up, her gaze landing on Chu Yue. “Check if your phone still works. The hospital sent it back with your bag.” She pulled a flat, black object from the coffee table drawer and handed it to Chu Yue.

Chu Yue took the “phone,” which was smoother than a bronze mirror. On its back was a logo of an apple with a bite taken out of it, shimmering mysteriously under the light. She turned it over in her hands, completely bewildered, the small device feeling like a mysterious treasure box filled with secrets.

“You must remember your lock screen password, right?” Zhou Lecheng asked eagerly, her eyes sparkling with hope. “It’s your birthday! 0915!”

Chu Yue hesitated for a moment before trying to enter 0915.

The phone screen lit up!

Zhou Lecheng’s face lit up with joy. “Quick, check for important messages! So many people have been trying to reach you these past few days.”

Chu Yue stared in astonishment at the illuminated screen, its surface covered in tiny, colorful icons, each resembling a portal to another world. She accidentally touched one, and the screen instantly shifted, displaying numerous small, square images, each accompanied by text. The combination of images and text conveyed a dizzying array of information, leaving her overwhelmed.

“Your short video account is about to explode,” Zhou Lecheng said, leaning over to look. She pointed excitedly at the screen. “Fans are asking where you’ve been. Should we post a statement?”

Chu Yue’s finger accidentally swiped across the screen, causing the images to scroll upward endlessly, revealing an endless stream of new content. This was more incredible than the most fantastical magic. She felt as if she were caught in an information vortex, surrounded by endless novelty and wonder.

Just then, the doorbell rang urgently. Zhou Lecheng jumped up, her face lighting up with anticipation. “The takeout’s here!”

She rushed to the door and accepted several plastic bags from a man in a yellow uniform.

“Your favorite spicy mala hotpot!” Zhou Lecheng cheerfully placed the bags on the dining table, retrieved two bowls and chopsticks from the kitchen, and beamed warmly. “The doctor said you should eat bland food, but I bet you’ve been craving this.”

The spicy aroma filled the air, and Chu Yue’s stomach betrayed her with a loud growl. She cautiously approached the dining table, watching Zhou Lecheng pull several plastic containers from the bag. When opened, they revealed steaming dishes: fiery red chili peppers, vibrant green vegetables, and tender brown slices of meat, their colors dazzling and their fragrance intoxicating, stimulating her taste buds.

“Sit down,” Zhou Lecheng said, handing her a pair of chopsticks, her eyes brimming with anticipation. “Eat while it’s hot.”

Chu Yue accepted the chopsticks—at least these were familiar. She picked up a piece of meat and tasted it. Instantly, a numbing, spicy sensation exploded on her tongue, so intense it brought tears to her eyes. Yet the unique flavor was irresistible, a taste she had never experienced before, as if a new culinary world had opened before her.

“Slow down,” Zhou Lecheng chuckled, pouring her a glass of water with a fond smile. “Since you lost your memory, have you become more sensitive to spice? You used to love spicy food.”

Chu Yue took small sips of water, her eyes darting around the room. Every detail of this world both terrified and fascinated her: pipes that produced water on their own, small rooms that carried people upward, blackboards concealing shadowy figures, small boxes that recorded images…

What kind of world had she stumbled into? And where had the real Jiang Tian gone?