State: Divided Mountains. City: Thousand Beasts Mountain.

  Near the foot of the mountain, countless stone huts covered with straw could be seen. Among them, there were also those made of wood. As the sun still shone brightly in the sky, smoke rose from most of the huts.

  In one of the many dilapidated ones, silence had reigned for many days. Yet, in a place so crowded, one among many easily went unnoticed.

  Inside, a young man around sixteen years old was taking his final breaths. He stared at the cabin's ceiling with a complete lack of will.

  — What a disgrace! I couldn’t accomplish anything, so many promises… defeated by a mere mortal illness… I can’t accept this!

  While murmuring as loudly as his fading strength allowed, tears rolled down his eyes. Almost as if he knew his fate, he reluctantly closed them, and his breathing ceased.

  At that moment, a faint light descended upon his body. It enveloped him entirely, and soon something magical happened—the breathing that had just ceased… resumed.

  The rise and fall of his chest stabilized within a few breaths, and as time passed, the pallor on his face began to fade.

  THUD! THUD! THUD!

  While all this was happening, knocks echoed on the door, followed by a young girl’s voice.

  — Brother Chen, are you awake? Will you come down to water the plants today?

  The girl shouted several more times, her eyes filled with deep concern for the cabin’s occupant.

  Receiving no answer, she prepared to leave. Just as she turned, she saw a middle-aged man looking in her direction.

  — Little Jie, is Little Chen okay? I haven’t seen him at the harvest for a while.

  The middle-aged man smiled as he asked, his expression gentle and sincere, his concern evident to anyone watching.

  The girl, addressed as Little Jie, stiffened slightly. Naturally cautious, she understood that in this world, one wrong step could lead to her grave.

  — Senior Jing! He’s fine, really. Brother Chen just said he wasn’t feeling well and needed a few days to rest. — Jie responded in the most relaxed tone she could manage. After bidding farewell, she left quickly.

  The middle-aged man, Jing, watched her leave in silence before turning his gaze toward the dilapidated hut. Just then, the door of the house across from his opened, and a rugged-looking man stepped out.

  This man had prominent muscles and a knife hanging from his waist. Upon emerging, he glanced at Senior Jing, who returned the gaze with equal intensity. The two exchanged deep looks before shifting their attention to the hut.

  — The girl’s smarter than she seems; she doesn’t trust you, Old Jing, — the rugged man said, his expression mocking as he diverted his gaze from the hut.

  — Her? True, maybe she’s suspicious. — He responded thoughtfully, his expression growing increasingly dark. Then he added, — Xu Zhi, how much longer will it take? I still heard noise from inside this morning.

  — You don’t need to worry about that. If I said he’ll die, nothing can stop it. He’s just a mortal. What concerns me more is that “thing” you mentioned.

  — This isn’t the place to discuss it. Let’s go!

  Their conversation ended quickly, and the two went their separate ways.

  While this transpired, inside the cabin, silence reigned. Only the faint sound of breathing could be heard.

  Before Little Jie had knocked on the door, the light was already covering the body of the one called Chen. Suddenly, a change occurred. The golden light abruptly darkened, resembling the mysterious glow of the universe, descending silently. Then, a knock followed by a voice echoed through the cabin.

  “Jie… Who is that…? What’s… happening…”

  In the darkness, a faint voice echoed, accompanied by fragmented memories that left him increasingly bewildered.

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  As the day passed swiftly in the little cabin, the radiant sun soon gave way to the quiet yet equally luminous moon.

  CREEK! CREEK!

  With the bed creaking, two bright eyes opened wide. Sitting up abruptly, sweat dripped from his forehead. Holding his head with one hand, his heart raced uncontrollably.

  As he moved, the creaking bed pulled him from his daze. Fear and reluctance were still evident in his eyes, but confusion gradually took over.

  Looking around, the bewilderment in his eyes deepened.

  — What… What’s going on here? These memories… Argh!!!

  Awakening, his first words in this "world" were still hoarse. Before he could process anything, searing pain shot through his head.

  Without thinking, he knelt on the bed, clutching his head tightly.

  While the memories had previously trickled in like a casual stroll, they now surged like a torrential flood.

  Even in pain, the "Brother Chen" maintained some caution. Clenching his teeth, muffled groans filled the cabin.

  As time passed, the groans grew quieter. After about thirty minutes, he finally managed to calm down.

  — Zhang Chen… Is that my name? No, that’s the name of the person before me… Am I dreaming?

  He began muttering to himself. The more he spoke, the more unreal it felt. His breathing grew increasingly erratic.

  Zhang Wei—that was his name before ending up in this situation. Both he and the previous owner of the body shared the surname Zhang. Orphaned as a child, Zhang Wei was taken in by kind-hearted people. He had grown up well, his intelligence allowing him to excel academically with ease.

  By nineteen, he had successfully started his own business while simultaneously graduating from university with honors.

  Zhang Wei had greatly repaid those who had taken him in, calling them family. By the age of twenty-five, he had become one of the most promising individuals of his generation. His pride grew, and naturally, his journey wasn’t without regrets. Ignoring love and mourning her loss to illness left a scar that made him increasingly focused on his work.

  His death came through envy—assassins were hired to take his life while he slept, one of the reasons for his current confusion.

  As time passed, “Zhang Wei,” now becoming Zhang Chen, began to calm down. The memories were still jumbled, but he felt much better than he had moments ago.

  — A new world! Immortals!? Hahaha! — he said, his eyes gleaming. The more he thought about it, the more his emotions fluctuated. His mind was still not entirely stable, and he wasn’t grounded enough yet.

  With a deep breath, Zhang Chen calmed himself. He couldn’t help but think of his "past." In his previous life, though he had no parents, he had loved ones he called family.

  — It’s good that I left contingency plans... Who said I was too young to think about what to do with my money after death? Hehe, maybe they’re involved in this... What am I thinking? None of that matters anymore. I hope they’re well. Sister Ling Yun is a crybaby... That foolish Brother Yu will want to go after the culprit... Don’t get involved in that murky water.

  Lying down, he began to wander in thought as he stared at the ceiling. His irises shimmered with tears that trailed down, soaking his hard straw bed. For some reason, the more he tried to hold them back, the more they flowed from the corners of his eyes.

  While still lying down, a vivid memory surfaced in his mind, fresh like bread just out of the oven.

  With tears still streaming, he raised his fist and spoke solemnly:

  — Don’t worry, I’ll fulfill your wishes. I won’t let you perish in the mud. I swear to this sky! What I, Zhang Wei, promise, nothing can prevent. From now on, my name is Zhang Chen!!

  In the sky, an almost imperceptible light flashed but disappeared as quickly as it appeared.

  His vow was accepted!

  THUD! THUD! THUD!

  No sooner had his words faded than a heavy knock came from the door.

  — Little Brother Chen, are you awake? I need to tell you something!

  From beyond the door, an aged but gentle voice called out.

  Zhang Chen, who was beginning to feel drowsy, was roused by the voice. He sat up on the bed and looked toward the door, his eyes half-closed.

  His cabin wasn’t spacious. There was the bedroom where he was now, and the kitchen and living room shared a slightly larger space. A small bathroom with buckets served his needs.

  Anything related to cultivation was done in the living room or bedroom—one of the many challenges faced by the lowest class in this world.

  Getting up from the bed, Zhang Chen left the bedroom. As he entered the other room, memories flooded his mind like faint recollections. Near a clay bowl, a machete about thirty centimeters long lay.

  He walked over and grabbed it, holding it firmly as his brows knitted. It was nighttime, and someone was knocking at the door. He preferred not to act like a naive fool.

  By now, the knocking had stopped, but under the moonlight, he could see the shadow passing beneath the door.

  Taking a deep breath, he steadied himself and cautiously opened the door halfway.

  He positioned the right side of his body behind the door, gripping the machete even tighter.

  Now he saw who had knocked—Ma Jing, the kindly old man who had spoken with Little Jie earlier.

  — Mr. Jing, is there something important? Couldn’t it wait until morning?

  The moment Zhang Chen saw him, a flood of memories sparked in his mind, one of which made his thoughts race.

  Seeing him leave the room, a glint of surprise flashed in Ma Jing’s eyes, though he quickly concealed it and put on a gentle smile.

  — It’s nothing too urgent. The Outer Periphery Supervisor noticed Little Brother Chen hasn’t shown up for work in almost five days and asked me to check if everything was alright. Now that I see you’re fine, I’m relieved.

  — Thank you for your concern. I believe I’ll be able to return to work soon.

  With a perfectly timed expression of relief, only sincerity showed on his face. Ma Jing didn’t linger and soon bid farewell, leaving with an increasingly dark expression as he walked away.

  Zhang Chen watched him leave and didn’t ask him to stay—it was nighttime, after all, and unnecessary. Closing the door, his expression turned grim, and a dangerous glint appeared in his eyes.

  Breathing deeply, he calmed himself and returned to the bedroom. He couldn’t think clearly now; for some reason, a heavy drowsiness weighed on him.

  Lying back on the bed, it didn’t take long for his breathing to become regular, the sound filling the room as he fell asleep.