I awoke to a blur of orange and red – and a headache.

I tried to get up, but immediately felt dizzy, so I lay back down.

Rubbing my temples, I waited for my vision to be restored, while feeling the warmth of the setting sun whose last light was streaming in through the window.

How long had I been out? It couldn’t have been long – the sun had already been setting, when Chu Hua had lit the incense stick that had knocked me out.

Ouch!

Even thinking hurt.

I tried to stop thinking and drew several slow and controlled breaths. I couldn’t freak out right now. I needed to regain control of my senses and then calmly assess the situation.

After a few moments of lying still, I tried lifting my arms. To my surprise I felt an unusually heavy weight pulling on them: I was wearing Chu Hua’s many-layered gown. That was the red color I must have seen when I had woken up. Now my vision had improved and looking down at myself, I could see that I was wearing the red shirt-jacket and the long pink skirt Chu Hua had shown me at the cabin. Back then it had looked so precious and relic like, that I hadn’t dared to touch it – now I was wearing it. Even my feet were no longer in my boots, but in another pair of shoes, that from feeling alone I could not identify.

For a second I actually forgot that I was stuck in a parallel world - without a guarantee that I could return home - and wished there was a mirror, so that I could take a look at myself.

I had finally fully regained my vision and tried sitting up again. I still felt a little dizzy, but panic was slowly taking over and making me awake and alert. Now I also noticed a weight on my head and quickly reached up to check my hair, which turned out to have been put in a large bun and decorated with numerous heavy hairpins.

Chu Hua had lured me here, knocked me out, dressed me up in her clothes and – I took one quick look around the room – vanished.

It didn’t take a Sherlock Holmes to detect that she wanted me to take her place, but why it was necessary I didn’t quite understand. The problem was that I didn’t have time to ponder the motives of Chu Hua, but I needed to get out of the tower, back into the field and back home as soon as possible. Soon it would be dark and climbing down the wall would be extremely risky.

I wanted to quickly head for the window, but the gown Chu Hua had put on me, was a huge hindrance. I could move, but I could only make slow striding movements. Looking at the small window I knew that I could never even climb through it in the gown I was wearing. I felt underneath my clothes to see what I was wearing and to my horror realized that Chu Hua had apparently stripped me of my underwear, too. If I got out of this gown I would be stark .

Well, the plan was that either way no one would see me, but I did hesitate to strip . What if I didn’t find my way back through the field? I didn’t even know how I had to walk through the field in order to pass from one place to another. How long would I have to go straight and how long would I have to go in circles… what if I lost my way? I had seen the field looking down from the Inner Wall; I knew it stretched near endlessly. If I got lost I could be running around in the field, until I starved to death.

Being alone, lost, outside, and in the dark didn’t sound appealing… but neither did staying.

I was just devising a plan on how to wrap either the skirt or the jacket around me to cover myself adequately, when someone pushed the heavy purple curtains behind me aside and marched into the prayer room.

I turned around to find a teen-aged girl with a shaved head, wearing orange robes and carrying a broom, staring at me. She opened to say something, but then just quickly bowed very low and backwardly hurried out of the room.

My brain switched pretty fast and I deduced that I must have just met a young novice nun of the Temple. The question was whether her arrival was precedent to more people barging into my prayer room or not.

My prayer room.

I had just referred to the room I had entered for the first time today as ‘my’ room. Reflecting heavily on myself in the most impractical moment possible, I also noticed I was still thinking in Cathanese instead of Korean. I tried to remember Korean words, but I couldn’t. Every time I tried to grasp at a Korean word, its place was filled with the Cathanese one. It took all my self-restraint not to once again ponder whether I had gone crazy or not and instead try to make a tough decision:

Either quickly getting out of my clothes, wrapping one of them around myself and climbing out the window or playing ‘Chu Hua’ for tonight and tomorrow, until it was possible for me to return to the Temple (possibly with a set of garments appropriate for climbing).

As usual – destiny made the decision for me: I had not yet set my mind on either choice, when another nun entered through the purple curtain.

“My lady,” said the nun, who was significantly older than the girl, who had come in before, but who wore the exact same orange robes and had every last hair shaved off her head – including her eyebrows.

Assuming – from the polite way that she was addressing me – that I ranked higher than her, I answered with a simple:

“Yes?”

The nun lowered her gaze, so that she was looking rather at the floor next to me, than at me and said:

“Of course we appreciate the devotion that milady has shown for Her Greatness He Xiangu and our humble establishment, but regretfully the temple is closing its doors for the night and we have to ask all worshippers to leave. Please come by again tomorrow.”

“I will,” I replied, surprised by how easy I could make my voice sound intimidatingly self-assured, despite the fact that I was shaking on the inside. “I will be back tomorrow. Thank you for giving me notice ahead of the temple closing.”

The nun gave me a quick and slightly irritated look before looking back at the spot on the floor.

“The pleasure is ours,” she said and moved out of the room backwardly.

Had she noticed something? Maybe the ‘thank you’ had thrown her off. Should I be more demanding? It was probably best to retire to my… or Chu Hua’s quarters as quickly as possible, sleep through the night and head back here first thing in the morning.

I wondered where Chu Hua had gone… she hadn’t gone to take my place, had she? On the one hand that meant my mum wouldn’t be worried, but that also meant that no one would come looking for me...

A horrible thought struck me: What if I would remain stuck as Chu Hua in this place forever and Chu Hua would be back in my world… being me?

Would anyone notice?

They had to! My mum at least!

Then I remembered how I had told Chu Hua a huge chunk of my life story… she knew the corner stones of my life and several important events… she might be able to pull it off…

Remembering that there was nothing I could do at the moment to change the situation and remembering that the temple was closing, I decided to head for the purple curtain and step out of the prayer room.

Exiting the prayer room I found myself on a large spiral stair of the same sand-like color as the tower. It had gotten dark and small torches had been lit, that were attached to the wall next to the curtains, which marked the entrances to different prayer rooms.

Sitting on the stair, a few steps higher than ‘my’ prayer room, was the young novice nun, her arms and chin idly pillowed on the end of the broom she was holding. As she spotted me, she jumped, quickly got up and bowed low. I gave her a smile, expecting her to look up again, but she did not straighten herself up, until I started moving down the spiral stairs.

I still moved somewhat uneasy in the long gown I was wearing and almost tripped over it once as I climbed down the stairs. I was nevertheless enthralled by the mysterious atmosphere of the temple by torch light and at the same time frightened by the fact that I was in a parallel world impersonating a noble lady, whom I barely knew.

After reaching the end of the large spiral stair, I found myself in what looked like the entrance hall to the temple – a large hall with numerous lit torches that were casting shadows, which flickered over the beautiful dark mosaicked floor.

Standing in awe of the architecture was unlike anything I had ever felt before: Back – in South Korea – I had visited some tourist destinations with my mum and looked at old temples and castles, but signs, barriers and the masses of other tourists had always taken away from the sacred atmosphere of the places.

Now I had an ancient place like this almost to myself and could take it all in: The exotic smell of the burning torches, their light reflected on the brilliantly pieced mosaic on the floor and the sounds of quick, but gentle footsteps on the spiral stair mixed with the buzzing sounds of the night insects that had awoken outside.

From where I was standing I could make out the temple door at the end of the hall, which was wide-open to a square that lay outside. Although the square was almost fully dipped in darkness, I could make out the silhouette of a small person standing by the door. I turned around to look behind me and spotted several young nuns in orange robes standing higher up on the stair – apparently waiting for me to move.

Not sure where to go, but not wanting to raise any suspicion I took the last step of the spiral case and began striding down the entrance hall in a manner that I hoped looked self-assured.

The small person that had been standing by the entrance door turned and started walking towards me as I came closer. When the person had come within reach of the first torches, their round face was illuminated and I saw that it was another young girl – no older than thirteen. She wasn’t a nun though apparently, as her hair was full, pitch-black and put up in a bun like my own and she wore a dress with a long-sleeved jacket like mine – only in muted blues and greens instead of fiery red and pink.

When the young girl was only a few meters away from me she halted and bowed low.

“Lady Rong,” she said. “I hope your day of meditation and prayer was pleasant and relaxing.”

“It was,” I replied shortly – not sure in what relation Chu Hua and the young girl stood to each other.

“If you’re ready to retire to your quarters, milady, the palanquin is waiting outside,” said the girl, straitening herself up from her low bow, but keeping her eyes on the floor.

From her submissive manner I concluded that she had to be some sort of servant. When I told her I was quite ready to retire, she wordlessly led me outside the temple, where nuns were lighting torches. By now it was too dark for me to see very far and I could neither make out the size of the square we were walking on nor the contours of any buildings. All I could see were several torches in some distance at the opposite end of the plaza.

As I followed the servant girl I tried to remember the information that Chu Hua had given me about the palace and its inhabitants. She had said that there were seven more temples like this one… the Forbidden City had to be huge, if this was only a small part of it.

Walking in Chu Hua’s gown was quite the exercise and only half-way across the plaza I became tired of walking in the heavy piece of clothing. Annoyed and tired I wondered whether I was high enough on the social latter to ask for the palanquin to be brought to me – instead of me having to walk to it. I was so exhausted I decided to risk it. I stopped and said:

“I’d like the palanquin brought closer, please. I’m tired.”

The servant girl stopped and turned around. It was too dark for me to make out her facial expression, but her voice sounded timid:

“Milady, I regret terribly, but… but I have to remind milady that only females are allowed on the grounds of the Temple… so the carriers can’t come any closer.”

I was glad that it was dark so that she couldn’t see my perplexed expression.

“Of... of course,” I said hastily and with some exasperation picked up my skirt and lifted it in order to be able to walk a little faster.

Before we reached the palanquin I turned around once more to look at the temple: The building stood tall and mysterious – almost consumed by the darkness, if it hadn’t been for the torches by the entrance door and in some of the windows.

Tomorrow I would return here as soon as possible, climb through the window, down the wall and then walk through the field until I found myself back in the South Korean countryside. That was all that mattered and all I was willing to worry about at the moment. Questions about parallel worlds, reality and identity… they could wait.

When I and the servant girl reached the palanquin, its door was already being held open by a male servant. I had enough time to get a quick look at five more servants, two of whom were carrying torches, before I hurriedly climbed into the palanquin to not make it seem as though I was doing it for the first time.

I expected the palanquin’s door to be closed behind me, but instead the servant girl climbed in and sat down opposite of me. I assumed she had be something like my maid or chaperon – Chu Hua’s anyway. When the young maid had seated herself and closed the door, the palanquin was picked up and we were carried away from the temple.

Some of the torch light from the carriers outside shone through its heavy curtains, but mostly it was dark inside the palanquin and the motion by which it was moving was rocky and unpleasant. My quarters had to be quite far away from the Temple, because the uncomfortable journey inside the palanquin continued for a while. The almost-darkness added to my discomfort and I would have liked to have distracted myself by talking to the maid, but I was unsure what to say and whether it was appropriate for me to do so.

By now I was extremely tired and my eyes kept falling shut. I tried to keep myself awake and… sane… by telling myself, that I was still Kim Jieun, 19-years-old high school graduate, from South Korea… Again the name of my home country and my own name sounded strange and unfamiliar in the Cathanese language that filled my head. I wondered whether I would still be able to speak it, once I returned home. I wondered whether I would be able to speak my native language again…

After what felt like half an hour the carriers finally halted, put down the palanquin and opened its door for me and the maid. We both climbed out of the palanquin, squinting, because of the blinding light that was being omitted by the countless torches which were lit in the courtyard that we had entered. I wanted to stand and marvel at my surroundings, but reminded myself that I had to make it seem as though I was fully familiar with the location so I took a confident stride towards what looked like the entrance door which we had been brought to.

To my relief I seemed to be heading in the right direction, because my maid quickly followed me, walked passed and opened the door for me. I slowed down to a more dignified way of walking that I hoped wouldn’t raise any particular suspicion and gave the maid a nod, once I had passed through the door.

To my further relief we continued this little dance several times, where the maid walked in front of me opening the doors, letting me through and then ushering past me to open the next one. I wouldn’t have found my way otherwise, as after the first door I found myself in a maze of corridors and halls – all with sparkling clean floors and an architecture of a simple, yet breath-taking elegance. Now and then we passed servants or maids – all dressed in muted blues or greens – who gave me a quick low bow before continuing on their way.

When I felt my maid wasn’t looking I snuck closer looks at the floral patterns that decorated many doors and pillars and at the beautiful indoor gardens we passed. I was amazed at the number of torches that were burning and wondered how sizeable the army of servants had to be that it took to keep them lit.

Finally the maid and I stopped in front of a comparatively small red sliding door in a side-corridor, which the young girl pushed open for me. As I stepped inside I was instantly greeted by the deafening barks of a long-haired and sizable caramel-brown dog that came charging at me.

“Qing Long looks happy to see you,” commented the maid, as she closed the door behind me.

“I’m not so sure,” said I, as the dog in front of me had ceased his initial tail-wagging and had started to growl.