Life was simple.
Too simple.
Liang Chen was a 20-year-old engineering student on Earth.
Every day followed the same pattern.
Morning lectures.
Afternoon labs.
Evening self-study.
Night scrolling on his phone until sleep came.
No drama.
No excitement.
Just routine.
That night was no different.
After revising his major subject, he lay on his bed, staring at the ceiling fan. His mind felt tired but restless. Thoughts of exams, future, and failure mixed together.
Soon, sleep took him.
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When he opened his eyes again, something felt wrong.
The ceiling was not white.
The air felt heavy and strange.
There was a faint smell of medicine.
He slowly sat up.
"This… isn't my room."
The bed was made of hard wood. The room was old, simple, and unfamiliar. Sunlight entered through a paper window.
Before he could panic, a sharp pain hit his head.
Memories flooded his mind.
Not his memories.
Someone else's.
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He was no longer Liang Chen, the engineering student.
He was now the fourth son of a small Qui family Qui Lang, a vessel family under the powerful Han Family.
Weak.
Ignored.
Looked down upon.
His name, his face, his life on Earth… all felt distant.
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More memories surfaced, painful ones.
The Han Family had announced a competition.
Any young talent who performed well could be accepted into the Han Family as an inner member.
For a small family like his Qui, this was a rare chance.
The competition test was alchemy.
They had to create a basic pill under supervision.
His first Qui Jian and second Qui Rong elder brothers were also participating. On the surface, they acted supportive. But behind the scenes, they schemed against him.
During pill refinement, they secretly interfered.
His flame control was disturbed.
The pill failed.
Not only did he lose, but he was publicly mocked.
A servant of the Han Family laughed.
Other candidates whispered.
Even elders shook their heads in disappointment.
A fourth son of a Qui family.
No talent.
No future.
Humiliation burned deeper than pain.
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The memory ended with darkness.
A weak voice pulled him back to the present.
"Young Master… you're awake?"
A mere servant stood beside the bed, worry on his face.
"You collapsed after returning from the Han Family. You were unconscious for five days."
Five days.
So the original owner of this body… died.
And he had taken his place.
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After the servant left, silence filled the room.
He clenched his fists.
"This world… is cruel."
But instead of fear, something else rose inside him.
Calm.
He stood up and walked to a nearby room. According to the memories, this was the previous owner's study room.
Dusty shelves.
Old books.
Broken cultivation manuals.
Useless.
He sat down and closed his eyes.
He began to focus.
Not as a cultivator.
But as an engineer.
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Suddenly, his mind trembled.
A strange object appeared in his consciousness.
A relic/treasure.
Ancient.
Silent.
Cold.
The moment he touched it, information poured into his mind.
Techniques.
Pill formulas.
Formation fragments.
Errors.
Improvements.
Not power.
Knowledge.
His breathing slowed.
A faint smile appeared on his face.
"So this is it…"
The heavens may have given him a broken body.
But they had given him something far more dangerous.
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End of Chapter 1