Selina’s Private Diary

Enlightenment Calendar, February 27, 3098. Weather: Sunny.

It’s been exactly 31 years since I came to this world—26 years as a thief, 5 years as an inexplicably strange princess.

Honestly, writing down my experiences feels surreal. I never thought I was some destined hero or the world’s protagonist.

But looking back, the absurd yet real fantastical moments make me wonder if I’ve got a bit of that novel-hero vibe?

On second thought, it’s probably just my imagination. What kind of protagonist starts as a one-armed disabled person? Even Xiao Huohuo, with his “thirty years east, thirty years west” bravado, was at least physically whole.

Compare that to me, making deals with gods, thinking I’d come out ahead, only to realize I just swapped one body part for another. Utter nonsense…

Enlightenment Calendar, February 28, 3098. Weather: Sunny.

Themis, that old ** (divine censorship), is totally an improper god. What kind of serious deity hides in their divine realm all day scheming to screw people over? That jerk’s a master of wordplay, bullying a barely 50-year-old like me. Vile! The worst! A psychotic advocate of “cut it off to cure it”!

Still, she did toss me a few cheats recently, so I’ll ease up on the criticism. But I can’t wrap my head around why the entire elven royal family is female—no males at all. Every royal is born from the sacred tree’s fruit. Does this mean Themis is, in some way, a yuri enthusiast?

Nah, forget it. Speculating about gods is risky.

If she catches wind, she’ll probably trip me up in secret. Besides, at the god level, emotions like love or affection probably don’t exist, right?

Who’d even qualify as a god’s yuri partner? Other gods? Vampires? Dragons? Or… no, no, stop! This topic’s too dangerous. They say gods are always watching. If another deity reads this, I’m done for.

What’s wrong with me? I’m just writing a diary, so why’s it turning into gossip? Am I really being influenced by this body’s female genes? Shudder… terrifying thought. Enough, no more on this.

Enlightenment Calendar, February 29, 3098. Weather: Sunny.

Oh, right, I remember why I started this diary. These past few days have been suffocating! I swear, at least 25 out of 24 hours, I’m under Felicia’s surveillance. This no-privacy, no-freedom life is driving me nuts!

What kind of sister follows you to the bathroom?! Aren’t elves supposed to be sensitive about personal boundaries? Why’s there no restraint between sisters?

Most shocking of all—this body can menstruate! What kind of setup is this? I thought the elven royals’ divine bloodline made pregnancy impossible. But no, they’re fully capable! So, all these years, the elven royals have outsourced reproduction to a tree to maintain the bloodline?

Thankfully, the period wasn’t as bad as the agonizing cramps I’d heard about in my past life.

Just some mild abdominal discomfort, a warm flow, and a bit of pallor and weakness. But when Felicia saw me like this, she nearly cried! If Karina hadn’t checked and explained, I’d have thought I was off to see that old ** again.

Enlightenment Calendar, March 1, 3098. Weather: Still sunny. Does the Elven Forest ever have anything but clear skies?

This is absurd. I got bored and flipped through the elven royal genealogy. Most with pure royal blood are princesses. From the first page to the last, across generations, there are only three elven princes. If the royals put even a little effort into reproduction, it wouldn’t be this female-dominated mess.

And those three princes? Ridiculously pretty. Judging by their portraits, they don’t even look male—those delicate, effeminate faces rival the princesses’. So, the elven royals either produce no men or churn out natural-born bishonen?

Heh, like the fall of Southern Liang to the Northern Dynasties. Suddenly, being a proper princess doesn’t seem so bad…

Enlightenment Calendar, March 2, 3098. Weather: Sun.

My body’s mostly recovered. I thought that’d ease Felicia’s overprotective care, but no—it’s the start of a nightmare. My recovery shifted her from worrying about my health to obsessing over picking birthday banquet dresses.

My princess bed’s now a pile of girly dresses. Elves are pure and virtuous, but their clothes aren’t conservative.

Honestly, by modern standards, they’re bold. The designs expose swaths of skin, and the material—magic-infused ice silkworm dream silk—would’ve been perfect for stockings in my past-past life.

But as clothing? Too provocative. The semi-sheer white fabric vaguely reveals the wearer’s skin contours.

Past experience taught me true allure isn’t nudity but the teasing, half-hidden beauty of clothing. This material’s a crime magnet! I must destroy it if I get the chance!

But, well, wearing it is… kinda comfy… Pfft! No, it’s all heretical! This princess scorns such dresses, hmph!

Enlightenment Calendar, March 3, 3098. Weather: Sun.

This body’s far lighter than my last. Since regaining my memories, I haven’t tested my old skills.

It feels fragile but definitely stronger than a human body. I wonder how much faster this body’s base speed is compared to my last?

The faster the base speed in Wind Spirit Moon Shadow, the better the stacking effect.

If this body’s speed surpasses my old one, how do I keep my skirt from flipping up when using it? Wait, why am I even thinking about this?

A skirt flipping and showing underwear is unladylike, but I shouldn’t care. No, I shouldn’t, I shouldn’t…

My mind’s probably still off from recovery.

Forget it, proper people don’t keep diaries. This princess is done!

Date: As above.

Signed: Kan—

(Damn, that old ** put a restriction on me. My old name gets censored when I write it.)

Selina Garlandode.