The Weight of a New Identity

The final medical report indicated that my physical health was sound. However, the pervasive stress had led to extreme mental tension and mild depression.

The doctor recommended a few days of rest, advising me to decide on a follow-up appointment based on how I felt.

Clutching the medical report tightly, I curled into myself, sitting on the corridor bench with my knees drawn up, lost in thought.

According to the hospital’s records, my identity was indeed Ling Jiu, female. There was no information whatsoever to suggest I had ever been a man.

In the face of the supernatural, the scientific principles I had always believed in seemed to crumble, proving utterly fragile.

Of course, I knew that the existence of God or similar deities could not be disproven by science. Yet, I wasn’t concerned with their presence or absence; all I craved was a small measure of comfort.

But even that small comfort eluded me.

Cold, hard data did not lie—at least, not to an insignificant, ordinary person like me.

****

Countless people bustled through the corridor. I watched patients being wheeled into the emergency room, saw somber adults leading giggling children, observed young couples weeping with joy, and witnessed the anguished cries of grieving families.

The joys and sorrows of others rarely connect. I merely found them terribly noisy.

A wave of sadness washed over me, making me want to cry.

The otaku Ling Jiu, who once was, had vanished from this world, leaving behind a young woman named Ling Jiu.

This young woman might be me, or perhaps not. The crucial question was how I could possibly explain my own existence.

Perhaps some people could easily accept such a situation, but for me, it felt incredibly difficult.

I had already formed my own worldview and established my own set of behavioral principles. Every experience I possessed bore the indelible mark of Ling Chen—the clumsy fool who had messed up so many things, yet who had always existed and shaped ‘me’ into ‘myself.’

I also realized that the current ‘Ling Jiu’ was my future. She, too, existed, influenced by the past Ling Chen, but she was not Ling Chen.

Why should I agonize over this? you might ask.

Life is full of surprises; shouldn’t I just enjoy it?

Yet, I found myself utterly unable to enjoy this predicament.

Know thyself—a philosopher’s mantra, and a principle I had always upheld. I aspired to live with greater clarity than anyone else, rather than having my soul wither and die by my twenties or thirties.

Otherwise, even if I were still alive, I would merely become my own shadow, mechanically imitating myself for the rest of my days.

Now, however, a new world’s door had appeared before me out of thin air, leaving me utterly bewildered.

To cling to the familiar self of the past, or to embrace a new and unknown life? For someone who feared the unknown, making either choice felt incredibly arduous.

I was just such a person—cowardly, indecisive, prone to overthinking, and constantly fixated on trivial details.

But this was me; not someone else. If I were to accept this change with a clear conscience, would I still be the independently thinking individual I once was?

****

“If this is your excuse for breaking up…”

The ringtone I had set last night yanked me back to reality. Someone saved as ‘Bald Monk’ was calling me.

It was my homeroom teacher, Old Zhang—a bald, greasy middle-aged man.

Strange. What could this bald man, who had never given me a kind look, want with me now?

My already sour mood flared into anger.

It’s one thing for you to mock me constantly at school, but surely you can’t be looking for trouble on a Sunday!

Recalling how he always made things difficult for me, dragging me to the blackboard to solve problems I couldn’t possibly manage, and making me lose face repeatedly in front of my crush, I impulsively decided to settle all old and new scores.

Hmph, I’ll just go all out. My situation is already terrible enough; the worst that can happen is getting expelled!

Then I heard his anxious voice through the phone. –Ling Jiu, where are you right now?–

Where am I?

He often asked me that. Usually, I’d be skipping class, playing games at an internet cafe.

Even if I’m underage entering an internet cafe, you shouldn’t be calling to interfere outside of school hours! You’re not my dad.

I replied curtly, my tone far from polite. –What do you want?! I’m at the hospital!–

To my surprise, Old Zhang, usually short-tempered and openly disdainful of me, fell silent for a moment. Then, his voice softened considerably. –Don’t be nervous. I didn’t mean anything by it; I just wanted to check on you.–

What could a problem student and a strict homeroom teacher possibly have to talk about? Saying he cares about me is like a weasel paying respects to a chicken—it can’t be for any good reason!

–I’m fine, thank you! I’m hanging up now!–

Treating my homeroom teacher like this, I fully expected to be in deep trouble. But it didn’t matter anymore; attending school as a female was far more terrifying than any wrath my homeroom teacher could unleash.

–Wait! Let me finish…–

Old Zhang had compromised? He wasn’t angry? I patiently listened.

–Ling Jiu, your father called me and told me about your situation. I never knew what you were truly going through. If any of this was caused by me, I must take responsibility. I want to apologize to you.–

What? Are you Old Zhang? Are you really the ‘Zero-Point Tyrant’ Old Zhang, rumored to have been a gang leader and now a strict, excellent teacher? You’re apologizing to a class delinquent like me? Has this world’s timeline really changed? Even character settings can be altered?

–First, I need to ask, what exactly did my dad say?–

–He said you’ve been suffering from gender dysphoria and depression. Your tomboyish personality made me see you as a troublemaker, deliberately trying to stand out. You might have felt I was targeting you, but I only wanted you to study hard and not secretly play on your phone during class.–

Damn it! I always thought my phone usage in class was seamless; I never expected Old Zhang already knew.

Old Zhang’s tone grew sincere. –But now I realize I was wrong. My teaching methods must have been flawed. In the past, I feared you would negatively influence the class, so I tried to marginalize and isolate you, hoping you would reflect on yourself. Yet, you developed such severe psychological issues, and I failed to notice, causing you even more harm. I’m sorry; as a teacher, I was so derelict in my duties. Perhaps you can’t forgive me.–

Forgive you? That’s easy for you to say. Do you know how it feels to be treated as an outsider by the class? Do you know the helplessness of being ridiculed and seen as an anomaly by your classmates? Do you know the pain of never fitting in? Do you know the humiliation of being made an example of? No, you don’t!

Old Zhang, I won’t forgive you!

–Your father has requested a few days leave for you. Please get some good rest. I won’t tell the other students in class about your situation, so don’t feel any psychological burden. Class 2 is your home; no one here will look down on you. In truth, everyone cares about you, but you’ve always kept your heart closed off, refusing to listen to anyone. I hope you’ll come back, and if you have any difficulties in the future, please tell me. I want to understand what you’re going through inside. Ling Jiu, are you listening?–

–Mm.–

My voice unexpectedly caught in my throat.

Don’t be so melodramatic, okay? I’m not some autistic child; honestly, making such a fuss. You stinky bald man, don’t think a few pretty words will make me forgive you!

–Uh, if playing on your phone during class makes you feel less uncomfortable, I’ll explain to the grade director. If you fall behind in your studies, I’ll tutor you, as long as you don’t give up entirely. You’re a smart and strong child, and I believe you can overcome your nightmares!–

Old Zhang! I was wrong! You’re actually a truly kind person!