The following week passed in a luxurious, tranquil rhythm, yet it was also filled with silent challenges for Ami Nonomura — or more precisely, for the soul of Nguyễn Hoàng Kim Long, who now held complete control over this delicate young girl's body.
She lived like a true princess, cocooned in the velvet embrace of the Nonomura family. Every morning, as the first rays of dawn filtered through the thin voile curtains, casting soft golden beams across the polished ebony floor and creating sparkling patterns on the intricately carved ceiling, the maid in her neat black uniform would gently knock on the bedroom door three times. They would wheel in a gleaming silver cart bearing an exquisitely prepared breakfast tray: a steaming pot of fragrant Matcha green tea, its delicate bitterness blending with subtle sweetness that spread across the palate, the aroma of freshly picked leaves from Uji drifting lazily in the steam; pure white mochi with sweet red bean filling that melted softly in the mouth, leaving a refined aftertaste; a plate of thinly sliced fresh fruit arranged like a miniature work of art on fine Jingdezhen porcelain — plump strawberries cut in half revealing their snowy white flesh, cool green kiwi sliced into star shapes, and golden mango slices as thin as flower petals; and a hot bowl of miso soup with tofu, dotted with fresh green scallions floating on the clear surface, its aroma filling the entire room.
Ami sat up in the enormous king-size bed, her long, glossy black hair cascading over her snow-white shoulders. Her thin silk nightgown clung to the gentle curves of her youthful body, revealing her delicate shoulders and slender neck. Long took a deep breath, acutely aware of the stark difference that left even him — the soul of a man from his previous life — secretly astonished: the body felt incredibly light, the skin as smooth as silk. Gone were the heavy muscles, the stench of sweat, and the musty smell of a cheap rented room from his past life. She smiled inwardly and thought, "In my previous life, I woke up in a damp, moldy room that reeked of sweat and cigarette smoke. Now… it feels like I'm living in a dream. Everything is too perfect, but I won't let it swallow me whole."
After breakfast, Ami spent two full hours on music practice under the devoted guidance of her private tutor — Mr. Yamamoto, an elderly artist with snow-white hair who had once taught piano and violin to members of the Japanese imperial family. The villa's private music room was as grand as a miniature concert hall, with a soaring ceiling adorned with exquisitely carved dragon-and-phoenix motifs. Soft light streamed through the stained-glass windows, illuminating the magnificent Steinway piano in the center and the priceless Stradivarius violin resting on its polished ebony stand.
Long wasted not a single minute. Every morning, even before the sun had fully risen, she would sit at the keyboard, her slender fingers gliding like feathers across the ivory keys. At first, there were still a few missed notes and transitions that lacked depth, the emotions feeling slightly forced because the body had not yet fully synchronized with its new soul. She focused on every tiny detail: pressing harder on the fortissimo notes to create power, adjusting her breathing to smooth out the rhythm, and allowing emotions to surge from the depths of her heart rather than playing with mere mechanical technique. Long repeated each passage dozens of times, combining Ami's muscle memory with the unyielding determination from his previous life — something a sixteen-year-old girl had never known. Sweat beaded on her forehead, her fingers ached, but she refused to stop, pushing herself until every note rang out with machine-like precision.
Just three days later, Ami's original skills had returned to near perfection. By the fifth day, when she played Beethoven's Moonlight Sonata, the notes were not only accurate but carried a new, stronger, and deeper layer of emotion — as if the soul of a man who had endured the hell of lust, violence, and repression had merged into every key. The sound echoed throughout the room, graceful yet tragic and majestic, causing Mr. Yamamoto to rise from his chair and applaud nonstop, his voice trembling with emotion:
"Magnificent! Ami, you have made tremendous progress. After your illness, your fingers seem reborn. The emotion in every note is now far deeper — it carries the weight of a true artist, no longer that of a mere talented child."
Even Hiroshi — her half-brother — who stopped by the music room one late afternoon, paused at the ebony doorway, his eyes flashing with surprise and pride. He was tall and broad-shouldered, with neatly trimmed black hair and a sharply defined face that radiated mature aristocratic charm. He wore a crisp white shirt with the collar slightly open.
"You're improving so quickly, Ami. It seems that after your illness, you play even better than before," Hiroshi said with a warm smile, his deep voice resonating like a rich cello. His gaze toward her was filled with genuine care.
Long merely nodded lightly, offering a polite smile. Her voice was clear and sweet, yet she maintained a clear distance:
"Thank you, brother. I'm just trying harder. You're busy with your final year of high school — don't worry too much about me."
However, the encounters with Hiroshi were precisely what troubled Long the most that week. Every time her half-brother appeared — whether greeting her in the morning in the grand hallway beneath the sparkling crystal chandelier, sitting together at the candlelit dinner table fragrant with the scent of primroses, or stopping by the music room during lunch break with a cup of green tea in hand — Ami's body would react in ways she could not fully control. Her heart would beat a little faster, her cheeks would flush faintly like freshly bloomed primroses, and a strange warmth would spread from her lower abdomen to her chest, causing her budding breasts to feel slightly tight and her smooth skin to break out in goosebumps. It was the lingering trace of the innocent, secret affection Ami had once harbored for Hiroshi — a pure, naive crush mixed with admiration for her talented and gentle older brother.
Long could completely control her behavior, speech, and facial expressions, but she could not stop the body from reacting according to the biological instincts of a sixteen-year-old girl. Each time this happened, Long felt extremely uncomfortable, as if a remnant of the "old Ami" was still trying to rise from the depths, attempting to pull Long's soul along with that sweet but dangerous current of emotion.
"Serves that guy from my previous life right… now I have to deal with a girl's crush on her half-brother," Long thought bitterly, both annoyed and darkly amused. "I'm a man. I don't need this ridiculous incestuous feeling. I have to deal with it completely before it becomes a serious problem."
She decided she had to end this issue decisively.
On Saturday evening, during the formal family dinner held in the villa's grand dining room — where the long ebony table was set with candles whose flames carried the rich fragrance of primroses and the exquisite Jingdezhen porcelain gleamed under the enormous crystal chandelier — the dishes were served one after another: thin slices of fresh salmon sashimi glistening with fat, paired with pungent wasabi and rich soy sauce; Kobe beef grilled teppanyaki right at the table, the tender meat melting in the mouth as golden fat oozed out with an enticing aroma; hot seaweed and tofu soup with deep umami flavor; accompanied by fluffy white rice and crisp steamed vegetables.
Ami sat primly on the right side of the table, wearing a light silk kimono after her lessons, her long black hair cascading down her snow-white back.
She set her ebony chopsticks down gently but firmly. Her clear, melodious voice rang out in the quiet room, broken only by the soft crackling of the candles:
"Father, Mother. There is something I would like to ask your permission for."
Mr. Hiroshi Senior and Mrs. Akiko both looked up, their gazes filled with concern and surprise. Mr. Hiroshi Senior — with his silver-streaked hair and dark suit — raised an eyebrow slightly, while Mrs. Akiko — elegant in her primrose-patterned kimono — tilted her head gently, her hand resting lightly on the edge of the table.
"I want to study abroad," Ami continued without the slightest hesitation, her deep brown eyes shining with determination. "I want to further my musical education and learn more about Western culture. Even though Tokyo has the prestigious Nonomura Academy, I still feel there are many limitations. I want to challenge myself in an international environment, where I can interact with true talents, top artists, and broaden my artistic horizons."
Mrs. Akiko frowned slightly with worry, her hand resting lightly on the table. "You've only just recovered from your illness, Ami. Isn't studying abroad a bit too soon? Mother is worried you won't be used to the cold climate and life outside Japan."
Mr. Hiroshi Senior pondered for a moment, his fingers tapping lightly on the edge of the ebony table, then nodded slowly, his voice deep, steady, and authoritative:
"Father thinks your idea is reasonable. You are the piano prodigy of our family. If you wish to fly farther, you need broader wings. Your mother and I will arrange everything. But you must choose the school carefully and promise Father that you will take good care of your health and keep in regular contact."
Long breathed a quiet sigh of relief. A light, refreshing feeling spread throughout her delicate body. The first part of her plan had succeeded smoothly. Leaving Tokyo and leaving Hiroshi would help her avoid the uncomfortable physical reactions Ami's body experienced whenever he appeared, while also opening up new space for Long's soul to truly develop freely.
At that moment, Mrs. Akiko suddenly smiled brightly, her voice cheerful as if she had just remembered something important:
"Now that you mention it, Mother received news from your aunt today. Rie Komatsuzaki — your cousin — has just been accepted into St. Mary's Catholic School in London. It is one of the most prestigious Catholic girls' schools in the United Kingdom, with a history of over three hundred years. The students there all come from European and Asian noble families. The learning environment is strict but perfect for daughters of wealthy families. If you want to study abroad, your parents can arrange for you to attend the same school as Rie. It will be convenient for the two of you to look after each other, and you'll have family by your side."
The moment the name "Rie Komatsuzaki" was spoken, a faint memory flashed through Long's mind like a gentle ray of light. It was Ami's memory: Rie was her blood cousin, the daughter of her mother Akiko's identical twin sister. The two mothers looked almost identical, and Ami and Rie were only a few months apart in age. Rie was a naive, pure-hearted girl who always made Ami feel warm whenever their families met.
Long nodded gently, a soft smile blooming on her rosy lips:
"If Father and Mother can arrange it, I would be very happy. It has been a long time since I last saw Sister Rie."
Three days later, Narita International Airport bustled under the brilliant morning sunlight of Tokyo in 1980. The luxurious VIP lounge was filled with the faint scent of high-end perfume, the polite murmurs of passengers, and the distant roar of airplane engines from the runway.
The Nonomura family came to see Ami off in a formal yet warm atmosphere. Mr. Hiroshi Senior and Mrs. Akiko stood beside the impeccably dressed butler Tanaka. Long, wearing an elegant light beige travel outfit custom-made from fine Italian silk, with her long black hair neatly tied up with a white ribbon, pulled a glossy high-end leather suitcase. She also wore a thin cream-colored wool coat, looking both noble and gentle — like a primrose in full bloom amid the modern airport.
Suddenly, from the VIP entrance, another family approached with cheerful laughter. It was the Komatsuzaki family: Mr. and Mrs. Komatsuzaki dressed elegantly, and Rie — the sixteen-year-old girl wearing her school uniform in preparation for studying abroad. Her pleated gray skirt was refined, her white shirt crisp, and her dark green blazer embroidered with the golden St. Mary's crest.
Long looked up and… was genuinely surprised. Her heart fluttered strongly. Rie Komatsuzaki was beautiful in exactly the type of woman that Long — formerly Nguyễn Hoàng Kim Long — liked most. She was so beautiful that the male soul inside her instinctively swallowed hard.
Rie was slightly taller than Ami, with a perfectly proportioned figure. Her skin was fair and rosy like fresh milk with a touch of natural blush. Her long, glossy brown hair cascaded over her shoulders with soft natural waves, sparkling under the sunlight. Her large, round eyes sparkled like honey-colored amber, framed by naturally long, curled lashes. She had a small, delicate nose and full, rosy lips that always curved into an innocent, radiant smile. Her oval face carried the gentle traditional beauty of a Japanese girl, yet exuded the noble British aristocratic aura thanks to her upbringing and education. Her breasts had developed more fully than Ami's, round and full beneath her crisp white shirt. Her waist was slender as if carved, her hips gently flared with the bloom of adolescence, and her long, slender legs looked graceful beneath the school skirt, clad in white thigh-high socks that hugged her smooth skin.
Rie's entire appearance radiated purity and innocence, yet she was naturally and irresistibly alluring — exactly the type of "innocent princess" that Long had once fantasized about during lonely nights of suppressed desire in his previous life.
"Rie!" Ami exclaimed instinctively, her clear voice ringing out as she stepped quickly toward her cousin with a bright smile. Rie beamed and ran over to hug Ami tightly. The gentle fragrance from Rie's hair and skin — a blend of English rose and primrose soap — rushed straight into Long's nose, sweet and warm, making her start slightly. Ami's body reacted with a pleasant little tremor, but this time Long felt no discomfort. Instead, a strange, warm, and intriguing feeling crept into her heart, like a small flame just being kindled. Rie's arms tightened around her, allowing Long to clearly feel the softness and warmth of her cousin's body. Her full breasts pressed lightly against Ami's, and their smooth skin touched through the thin fabric.
The two families chatted happily for a while. Mr. and Mrs. Nonomura and Mr. and Mrs. Komatsuzaki discussed the details: the two sisters would share a dormitory room at St. Mary's, the strict academic schedule, daily life, and the rules of the prestigious Catholic school. Long only needed to smile and nod politely, letting Ami's memories and instincts guide the social etiquette perfectly.
After the conversation, the two girls were escorted onto the Nonomura family's private jet — a luxurious private aircraft with polished ebony wood interiors, exquisitely carved details, soft white leather seats like clouds, a mini bar stocked with fine wine and premium drinks, and large windows offering a view of the vast blue sky. The plane took off smoothly, its engines humming softly like a whisper, soaring through the clouds toward distant London.
Rie sat right beside Ami from the beginning, holding her cousin's hand tightly, her slender fingers squeezing gently as if unwilling to let go. The innocent girl chattered excitedly without pause:
"Ami, I heard St. Mary's is very strict but also very beautiful. There's an ancient 17th-century church, rose gardens that bloom year-round, lush green lawns, and all the students come from prestigious families across Europe and Asia. We'll share a room, okay? I'll take care of you like before and teach you how to brew English tea and dress in London aristocratic style. Don't worry about anything!"
Long looked at Rie, a gentle smile on her rosy lips. In her heart, a clear, powerful, and exciting thought flashed:
"This new life… seems far more interesting than I imagined."
The plane soared through the fluffy white clouds as the afternoon sunlight streamed through the windows, illuminating the faces of the two sisters. Ami Nonomura — and the soul of Nguyễn Hoàng Kim Long — was beginning an entirely new chapter in London.
And Rie Komatsuzaki, with her innocent and radiant smile beside her, was the most interesting and alluring variable that Long had never anticipated in this reincarnation.