He closed his eyes for a brief moment, took a long breath, and centred his mind in the right direction.
When he focused, the screen showed clear, bright in front of him. When he relaxed, it faded away, melting back into the dark.
He began experimenting with it, making the screen appear and vanish whenever he wanted.
He tested how it moved, how it responded to his thoughts. Slowly, he started feeling its weight in his mind, learning how it connected to him, how much control he really had.
Then, all at once, his head went quiet. No noise. No questions. Just still.
And there, on the glowing screen, he saw it.
A name.
His name.
Wu Feng.
He hadn't paid attention before, too caught up in the skills, the stats, the powers. Now, looking at it, his chest skipped a beat.
He whispered, almost to himself, "Is… this… my name?"
Then, suddenly, a sharp pain hit him. It felt like lightning ripping through his head, fast and burning.
His hands shot up on their own, clutching his skull, fingers digging in like he was trying to hold it together.
Fragments of memories hit him all at once, like broken glass stabbing through his head. He could smell the sharp sting of antiseptic.
He could hear Nurse Li shouting instructions. He felt the scratch of his white doctor coat on his shoulders.
The yelling, the tension, the frantic energy of the operating room — it all came rushing back, messy and chaotic, but somehow familiar.
His mind was a storm of fragments, it was like trying to force a puzzle together with pieces that didn't fit.
Different memories merged into each other, colliding and twisting around.
The blur of monitors and surgical tools. The cold tap of keys under his fingers as he once scrolled through the internet.
Articles calling him the "Godly Hand." Nurses and other doctors whisper his name like it meant something.
Pieces of it tumbled together in his head, but nothing really made sense to him.
But the name — Wu Feng — wouldn't let go.
It felt alive in his head, buzzing there, pulling at him. He could feel it in his chest, vibrating like a little heartbeat.
Like his mother calling him when he was a kid — gentle, soft, and how her mother wrapped around him like a warm hug. Familiar, like something he'd always known, even if he'd forgotten everything else.
He blinked slowly, letting the jumble of memories and feelings settle down a little. His chest eased, his mind quieted. After a moment, he finally thought to himself, "Okay… my name is Wu Feng."
The world around him felt all mixed up, like nothing made complete sense. Part of it looked like the modern world he half-remembered.
But the current world looked like some fantasy place, with swords, magic, people using swords and magic, like a game come to life.
It was confusing, but his mind kept trying to make sense of it. "Did I… die and end up here?"
Before panic could even start to hit in, his skill Calm Mind kicked in.
[Calm Mind Activated]
Everything inside him seemed to slow down. His thoughts, his heartbeat, even the spinning of the world around him — all of it eased, like someone had hit the pause button.
With that, his mind figured it out: he was Wu Feng. Died in one world, ended up in another.
No memories left, just the instincts of his old life — the sharp, careful sense of a heart surgeon, still alive inside him, ready to guide him in another world.
With that, his mind finally pieced it together.
He was Wu Feng. Died in one world and reincarnated in another. Almost everything else was gone — no memories, nothing to hold onto — but the instincts from his old life were still there.
He got one piece of the puzzle back — his name. Wu Feng.
As his head cooled down, his face changed to the serious look he always got when he made up his mind.
Back in his previous life, it was meant to save the lives of his patients. Now, it meant saving himself and finding out who he really was.
"This isn't my world…" He lifted his chin, staring up at the tunnel roof like it might give him an answer.
His head turned left. Then right. Just rough stone walls with magic ore in them.
The torch on the wall burned unsteadily. The flame jumped, bent to the side, then straightened again, like it couldn't stay still. Light hit the stone, bright then dark, again and again.
He raised his palm and waved it through the air slowly. Like he was trying to touch something that might be there.
As he moved his palm through the air, it felt warm.
"I… I don't know how you died," his voice was soft, like he was talking to someone standing right in front of him.
He put his palm on his heart and felt it beating under his hand. His eyes looked kind of empty, with a wet shine in them as he stared down at the ground.
"But… thank you. Thank you for giving me this body."