Dao Yuan 9780, spring.
Recalling the bits and pieces of life, it seems to be traceless, but in fact, it has long been destined.
"So fragrant!" Qian Duoduo was about to jump down from the big tree to steal the chicken and fruit on the offering table under the tree when his vision went black, and his body sank continuously like drowning, his limbs flailing, unable to grasp anything.
After an unknown amount of time, with a "bang," he hit something soft—he had fallen to the bottom.
Slowly recovering, he looked down in the dim light, seeing a teenager of about ten years old, dressed in an orange robe, lying beneath him.
His own skinny butt was pressing right on the boy's head.
The boy lay motionless, seemingly crushed to death.
Qian Duoduo bounced up from the ground, his voice trembling: "Ah, where is this? Who are you?"
The boy remained still, and no one answered.
A foul smell permeated the air. Qian Duoduo bent down and poked the boy with his index finger, but there was no response.
He put his hand under the boy's nose.
No breathing, no Qi entering, and no Qi exiting.
"Dead? Did I do it?" He touched the boy's neck; it was warm.
Qian Duoduo sat back.
"I really did crush him to death! Someone about my age."
Qian Duoduo trembled all over, sitting on the ground and backing away until he leaned against a wall, staring wide-eyed at the boy, hoping he would move again, or sit up again.
Before he fell, he was a thirteen-year-old orphan from You Sha Village.
Just a Mortal, he lost his mother at three and his father at five. He was lazy and greedy, stealing chickens, killing dogs, catching fish, and digging for birds, doing whatever it took to survive.
Now he had fallen into this place, a strange world.
Destiny had inexplicably jumped from one gear to another.
Qian Duoduo clenched his teeth, surveying his surroundings.
A stone cave, with natural rocks all around, showing traces of being chiseled.
Light shone from ahead, where there was a window, and below the window was a door.
The light from the window fell on the boy's face.
Qian Duoduo picked up a small pebble from the ground and threw it at the boy, hitting his neck.
The boy did not react, his face growing paler and paler, as peaceful as a dead person.
Qian Duoduo's legs trembled even more violently.
"People who die unjustly have ghosts. His must be secretly watching me—maybe even standing right beside me. It's really not my fault. I don't even know how I got in here."
A large drum was beating heavily in his heart.
He scratched his hair and looked up at the cave ceiling, which was a single piece of rock, without a single crack.
He rushed along the stone wall to the window.
"Bang, bang, bang!" He vigorously pounded on the door, shouting out the window:
"Let me out! I didn't steal anything!"
Suddenly, someone patted him from behind.
Qian Duoduo let out a scream.
"He came back to life, or is it a ghost?"
Before he could turn around, a force abruptly pulled him, spinning him around.
In front of him, a thin, dark old man floated in the air!
"Ghost!"
Qian Duoduo's legs trembled, and his teeth chattered uncontrollably.
The thin, dark old man's eyes gleamed fiercely, "Where did this brat come from? You killed my Disciple!"
A ball of flame appeared in his right hand and moved towards Qian Duoduo's head.
Even from three feet away, Qian Duoduo felt an extremely high temperature and knew that if the flame touched him, he would surely be finished.
Enveloped by an unknown force, Qian Duoduo couldn't move his body, so he simply closed his eyes and waited for death.
He hadn't expected to not die of starvation, nor be bitten to death by a dog, but instead to be burned to death by fire.
After a while, he realized the flame hadn't touched him. He opened his eyes and saw the thin, dark old man frowning deeply, looking at him for a moment, then at the boy on the ground.
"Old man, what do you want to do?" Qian Duoduo blurted out.
"My title is Liu Boli." The flame on the thin, dark old man's withered, yellow palm flickered and finally extinguished. He commanded:
"Close your eyes."
Qian Duoduo closed his eyes as instructed. As soon as he closed them, he felt a warmth in his glabella, as if it had been severely scalded by fire. Just as he was about to open his eyes, he heard Liu Boli's fierce voice again, "Don't open them."
Even though he didn't open them, Qian Duoduo still felt a golden light flash before his eyes.
"Alright."
Qian Duoduo opened his eyes and saw the thin, dark old man looking him up and down.
At the same time, many new pieces of information flooded into his mind.
"From now on, you are called Jin Buhuan." Liu Boli's gaze was like electricity.
"My name is Qian Duoduo. Not Jin Buhuan." All the information that had inexplicably appeared in Qian Duoduo's mind was about this boy who had been crushed to death, named Jin Buhuan.
Jin Buhuan was fourteen years old, a Cultivation Genius, an Inner Sect Disciple of the Refining Spirit Sect at the Ninth Level of Qi Condensation…
However, no matter how good Jin Buhuan was, he was still someone else.
Qian Duoduo only wanted to be himself.
"You are Jin Buhuan." Liu Boli pointed a withered, yellow finger at the boy on the ground, "Quickly put on his clothes!"
The reason he hadn't killed Qian Duoduo earlier was that he discovered Qian Duoduo was similar in age to Jin Buhuan and looked very much like him. This made him hesitate repeatedly, finally deciding to temporarily let Qian Duoduo impersonate Jin Buhuan.
Many years later, he would feel that the most correct decision he made in this life was this one.
Liu Boli was a Fifth-Rank Refiner and possessed the skill of Soul Fusion.
He made Qian Duoduo's and Jin Buhuan's souls partially merge.
Qian Duoduo gained part of Jin Buhuan's memories and also Jin Buhuan's identity.
"No!" Qian Duoduo clutched his patched-up clothes tightly.
"I won't wear them. Dead people's clothes, I won't wear them." Although his own clothes were tattered, at least they were warm.
"You won't change? Then you will also become a dead person! Change quickly!"
A cold light flashed in Liu Boli's eyes. With a wave of his withered hand, Qian Duoduo was immediately enveloped by a force and moved next to Jin Buhuan.
A Mortal, daring to defy him!
Liu Boli gestured with his finger, and Jin Buhuan's orange robe and inner clothes came off his body, revealing several long scars on his chest and abdomen, still red and swollen, a shocking sight.
Feeling a chill, Qian Duoduo turned his back, took off his tattered shirt, and put on Jin Buhuan's inner clothes. They fit perfectly, neither too big nor too small. Just as he was about to put on the orange robe, he was stopped.
"Tie it."
A purple belt appeared before Qian Duoduo, with a flat golden buckle.
The belt felt a little heavy in his hand, and the buckle's material seemed to be gold, with a peculiar shape—it was a Golden Toad.
The Golden Toad's tongue stretched out long, coiling at the very end, just hooking into the buttonhole on the belt.
After tying the belt and putting on the orange robe, before Qian Duoduo could speak, Liu Boli gestured with his finger, and Jin Buhuan's body and Qian Duoduo's discarded tattered clothes vanished.
Then, Liu Boli also disappeared before his eyes like a wisp of smoke.
Only the bewildered Qian Duoduo remained, staring wide-eyed, standing in place.
A long, thin face appeared from the window. Upon seeing Qian Duoduo, he was first stunned, then overjoyed, shouting:
"He's alive again, there's still hope!"
Before Qian Duoduo could get a clear look, the long, thin face ran forward and disappeared from sight.
In Qian Duoduo's mind, Jin Buhuan's information slowly surfaced: "The hatred for my father's death, I, Jin Buhuan, will surely avenge, even if it means the Jin family disappears from this world, I will not hesitate. However, for the sake of my mother, I must endure and live on with humiliation for now…"
"Creak." The door behind him opened, and the sound of several footsteps came.
"Oh, he really came back to life, he's tough!" A voice exclaimed.
"Senior Brother An, his Cultivation has a problem, it's at zero now." Another person reminded.
Qian Duoduo dared not turn around, not knowing what they were talking about.
"How did he also become a little foolish?" A hand squeezed his shoulder, turning his body around.
Three strong young men, like fierce tigers, stood before him, their eyes bright, and an indescribable vigor about them. The one who gripped his shoulder was the long, thin-faced man.
The long, thin-faced man's hand rested on Qian Duoduo, and Qian Duoduo felt as if ants were crawling on him.
"Senior Brother An, strange! Jin Buhuan's injuries are all healed, but his Cultivation is also gone." The long, thin-faced man frowned and said to the well-built young man in the middle.
Senior Brother An, dressed in a blue robe, chuckled, "It's fine. According to the rules, Jin Buyong can only send a Ningqi Level 1, so there's a chance to fight."
"Senior Brother is right!" The person next to him immediately praised. This person had yellowish skin, lowered brows, and was wearing a gray robe.
"Zero level fighting a first level is still a bit difficult." The long, thin-faced man stared at Qian Duoduo, "Jin Buhuan, why is your Cultivation gone?"