I looked up with wide eyes. In front of Kami, out of nowhere, a cloud-shaped keyboard and a holographic screen had appeared.
Floating there in midair, it reminded me a little of that flying plastic bag — which stung, just a bit.
The cat standing on two legs tapped away at the keyboard as she searched. It was a sight that made me want to shout “Technology―!”
“Let’s see. The work you spent the most time on in your life was… oh, the fantasy romance webtoon Welcome to Aria’s Teahouse! A whopping 1,487 hours — impressive!”
“No, that one….”
That was the first title I worked on as a colorist…. It seems time spent laboring over something counts as watching it too.
“The second most-watched title is the wuxia novel The Heavenly Demon Who Will Destroy the World Has Resurrected! Reading time: 56 hours!”
“That’s the one! That’s my current favorite novel.”
I lit up at the mention of a story I actually loved. It was a web novel I paid for every single day, drawn in by its unpredictable twists and addictive dopamine rush.
The protagonist had completely lost it in the latest chapter, and not knowing what would happen next was driving me absolutely mad.
“Shall I send you to the world of The Heavenly Demon Who Will Destroy the World Has Resurrected, then? Or to the world of Welcome to Aria’s Teahouse?”
The Heavenly Demon Who Will Destroy the World Has Resurrected opens with the Heavenly Demon already resurrected, the world already crumbling, and every great master of the martial world already dead.
Welcome to Aria’s Teahouse, on the other hand, simply isn’t my taste. It was a webtoon about cozy, healing little moments and romance.
There was no comparison.
Living in a neighborhood where swords fly every day and adrenaline never stops VS living in a comfortable, boring neighborhood.
Obviously, for a real man —
“Send me into the fantasy romance.”
Because actually living in a world is different from watching it as a story.
I have a soft spot for the title I paid to read, sure — but wouldn’t I have even more affection for the one I spent 1,487 hours staring at while getting paid?
It was absolutely not because I was a coward. Absolutely not.
With Kami and Coco’s send-off behind me, I stepped into a certain space. Between the clouds, a portal pulsed with rainbow light.
I’d been told that passing through it would let me live in another world, in a new body.
I stepped through without hesitation. There was a sensation of being rapidly pulled forward, and then everything in front of me turned pure white.
“……!”
I drew in a breath. Fresh air flooded my lungs. I forced my eyes open, and the bright sunlight blinded me.
Did it work…? Come to think of it, I never asked whose body I’d be transmigrating into.
I’d been too busy hugging and petting Coco until the very end to think to ask.
What mattered now was whether this was really the world of Welcome to Aria’s Teahouse. I looked around with hopeful eyes.
It wasn’t a house — it was a forest.
The ground wasn’t a sea of flames, and there were no screams of martial artists dying in the distance. I’d come to the right place. Phew….
But why were the trees so big? The flowers blooming nearby were nearly as tall as I was. Wait — wasn’t my line of sight unusually low…? Don’t tell me I’m a baby?
Slightly uneasy, I looked down — and saw a small, white, smooth body.
More precisely, a body covered in short, white, smooth fur….
“Myaaak?!”
I screamed. Wait — even my voice was wrong. A sharp, indignant sound burst out of my mouth.
I checked my hands. What I saw were cat paws — white as cotton fluff, with soft-looking pink jellybean pads.
“…Myaaaaaak!!!”
W-what is this?!
I said I wanted to have a cat in my next life, not be one!
Celia Rosette. The name of the youngest child — a daughter — born as one of two children to the Rosette Baron’s family.
From a young age, Celia had been an unusually sharp child. She was quick to read the room, and clever enough that, when taught one thing, she could figure out ten more on her own.
Of course, there was a secret behind all of this.
She carried the memories of a past life.
Her real name was Kim Aria. She was a soul that had gone through the public education system of twenty-first-century South Korea, so it was only natural that she seemed remarkably bright for her age.
Sadly, the family Kim Aria — or rather, Celia — had been born into was a conservative and old-fashioned one.
Baron Rosette had always been displeased with Celia and her tendency to speak her mind. He would scold her, telling her to stop acting smarter than men just because she was a girl, and to conduct herself with more modesty.
And that wasn’t all. The Baron even forbade her from reading books, claiming that a woman who was too accomplished would diminish her husband’s authority.
“Father’s right. What kind of girl reads books this thick? If you want to marry well, you should be working on your looks instead.”
Celia’s older brother went even further — he tore her books to shreds right in front of her, taunting her as he did.
With no mother to take her side — she had passed away early — Celia had no choice but to grit her teeth and endure.
Every time it happened, the head maid would rage on her behalf.
“Not even letting her read — honestly, the men in this household are utterly pathetic.”
The head maid, who had looked after Celia since she was small, was a woman who cherished her like her own daughter. Perhaps because of that, she grew even angrier on Celia’s behalf whenever Celia was belittled.
“The Baron is truly foolish. He’s pouring all resources into young Master Selon’s education — a boy who has no interest in his studies whatsoever and spends every day drinking with his friends.”
“Of all the children I’ve seen, Miss Celia is truly the sharpest. If you were given a proper education, you’d be of far more use to this family someday than Master Selon. The Baron doesn’t know what he has.”
She would always say this while combing Celia’s golden hair.
“Miss, when you’re grown, you must go to the capital. I’ve heard that in the capital, women receive educations, run businesses, and lead trends themselves.”
“It would be such a waste for someone like you to wither away in a backwater like this. Please go to the capital and live proudly.”
The head maid, who had always been Celia’s pillar of strength, fell ill and passed away before Celia even turned fourteen.
Alone now, Celia gritted her teeth and saved every coin she could to escape this household. Every night, she would slip outside disguised as a maid and take on side work — mending and needlework and the like.
And so, the moment Celia turned nineteen and came of age, the Baron moved to marry her off to some wealthy elderly nobleman, like she was an object to be sold.
Celia knew the time had come.
She had endured for so long — but in her heart, the longing had never stopped stirring: to go to the capital and live proudly, just as the head maid had always told her.
In the dead of night, while everyone slept, she fled — taking the money she had saved and her dowry with her.
Fearing pursuit, she hid in cargo wagons, or posed as a woman fleeing a violent husband to hitch rides in carriages.
Most people took pity on her and sheltered her along the way. After a long journey of nearly a month, she finally arrived at the capital, and the first thing she did was create a false identity under the name “Aria.”
Fleeing far from the barony had been the right call — but for a woman with no connections and a commoner’s status, the capital’s barriers were simply too high.
With no other option, she made her way to a village a short distance outside the capital.
She arrived with no particular expectations, but the village that greeted her was lively with a bustling crowd, while also boasting a beautiful landscape of sweeping green forests.
Captivated by the scenery, she decided to put down roots here. She poured her dowry and her savings into purchasing a run-down two-story house.
Aria picked up the tools herself and got to work renovating it. By the time she had tended to every corner, a warm, vintage-feeling space had taken shape.
On the first floor, she opened a teahouse. A wooden sign carved with the words “Aria’s Teahouse” in elegant script made it look even more charming.
Drawing on memories of working part-time at a café in her past life, she threw herself into the business with confidence — but:
No customers are coming.
One month into opening. The inside of the teahouse was completely empty. She had placed cute little decorations all around and put special care into the interior — but tucked away in this out-of-the-way corner, people just weren’t finding their way in.
So this is why location and foot traffic matter so much.
Aria, now tasting the bitter reality of opening an independent café, let out a long sigh.
Tap. Tap.
Just then, a faint sound came from outside the door. Aria rose from where she’d been sitting and hurried toward it.
“Yes, coming.”
Ding-a-ling, ding-a-ling — a clear little bell rang out. She opened the door, but there was no one outside.
As Aria tilted her head in puzzlement and looked down —
“Myaong.”
A white cat greeted her.
“Hello. Where did you come from?”
Aria crouched down and held out her hand to the cat. The cat didn’t pull away — instead, it lifted one of its front paws and placed it right on her hand.
Wait — is that a handshake?
Aria stared, bewildered, at the small paw resting on top of her fingers.
No, that can’t be….
Offering a paw without even being asked. She knew cats were intelligent, but they weren’t supposed to be easy to train like that.
Sure enough, as if to say it had just been a coincidence, the cat lowered its paw again. Its short white fur carried a subtle sheen. For a stray, it was far too clean and well-kept.
I’ve never seen this cat around the village before.
“Want to come in for now?”
She stood up and stepped aside, and the cat gave each of its four paws a brisk little shake before padding steadily inside.
