"System, how do I leave this place? I need to figure out what's happening outside."
[To leave the Subconscious Plane, Host must break the seal within himself. Would you like to proceed?]
Yang Zhizun hesitated. Break the seal? What exactly did that mean? What if breaking it causes more problems? What if it makes things worse?
He wavered. For a moment, he even thought of not leaving, but staying trapped here wasn't an option either. He needed answers, and if breaking this seal could help, he had no choice.
Taking a deep breath, he made his decision.
"Alright," he said, bracing himself, "Break the seal."
[Ding! Breaking the memory seal... Initiating.]
Maybe it won't be as bad as I think.
That hopeful thought barely had time to form before a sharp, blinding pain erupted in his head.
"Argh!"
He dropped to his knees, clutching his temples as the pain throbbed violently. Something was breaking inside him, but he didn't know what.
Just as he felt like he might black out, the system's voice rang out again
[SYSTEM has detected memory fragments. Would Host like to integrate them now?]
Panting, Yang Zhizun felt the pain begin to fade.
Memory fragments? Sealed within me? Whose memories are they? Are they mine? Does that mean there's more to me than I know?
Yang Zhizun shook his head, feeling overwhelmed. It was unsettling, but at the same time, a small spark of hope ignited in his chest.
Perhaps unlocking those memories would help him understand what was really going on.
"Yes," he said, a bit more confidently this time. "Integrate them."
[Ding! Integrating memory fragments…]
---
A woman's gentle voice echoed in the void.
"Z—, come here. Do you like the toy I gave you?"
"Do you want to go outside, Z—?" she asked, her smile kind, though certain words faded at key moments.
In the darkness, Yang Zhizun watched as memories flashed before his eyes, one after another like scenes from an old movie.
"Are these... my memories?" he muttered, confused by the vividness of the scenes unfolding before him.
This can't be real. These aren't my memories. But… why do they feel so close?
The perspective felt strange, everything in these memories seemed smaller, almost as if the person experiencing them was... shorter.
"Could these memories belong to a child?" he wondered aloud, narrowing his gaze at the blurry figure of a woman who appeared frequently in the visions
She was young, warm, and her voice was soft, though most of her words were muffled, barely audible.
"Who is this woman? Is she the kid's mother? She seems too young though," he pondered, continuing to watch as the memories played out like a silent film.
Then it hit him—wait… the way she spoke. Could the person these memories belong to actually be a… child?
Suddenly, the memories grew clearer, and he began to hear the woman's voice. But some words were still muffled, as if they were being hidden from him. It was frustrating.
"Z—, was it delicious?" she asked.
The memories began to feel personal, almost too real.
The woman's warm voice echoed again, gentler this time: "Come to your Big Sister, Z—."
"Big Sister? Is she the child's sister?" he wondered, slowly realizing the truth.
The final clue came when the woman's voice, this time perfectly clear, called out, "Zhi'er."
Zhi'er? Is that the child's name? he pondered, still unclear.
Suddenly, the memories flickered and went black, leaving only silence. Though only an instant had passed, it felt like a long time.
Then, everything began to distort.
"Wha—"
His consciousness blurred, the sudden shift making him dizzy. His thoughts slowed, his body grew heavy, and soon, everything faded into nothingness.
.
.
.
"Zhi'er..."
A soft voice broke through the haze in his mind. It was distant, familiar, and feminine, but he couldn't quite place it.
"Zhi'er..."
Again, the voice called out. This time, it's a bit more clear.
That voice… I know it.
Yang Zhizun stirred, barely able to keep his eyes open. His eyelids felt like they weighed a ton, and his body felt stiff as though he was trapped in a dream.
The gentle voice came again, "Zhi'er, are you feeling well?"
His heart skipped a beat.
Zhi'er? Is that my name?
He fought against the grogginess, forcing his eyes open just a little.
Through the narrow slit of his eyelids, he saw the blurred outline of a woman leaning over him, her hand softly stroking his forehead, though his body still ached.
He blinked, his vision still hazy. "Big… Sister?"
The words slipped from his mouth before he could even think. They felt instinctive, almost natural, as if he'd said them countless times before.
Through the haze, his vision sharpened just enough to catch the kind expression of the woman beside him.
She looks familiar—
Suddenly, a wave of recognition washed over him.
It was her—the woman from the memories.
But the exhaustion was too much. His eyes closed again, and sleep pulled him back under.
"Phew... sleep well. Your fever is coming down," the woman whispered, adjusting the blanket around him with care.
As her soft voice echoed in his ears, a strange sense of peace settled over him.
Fever? His thoughts were still jumbled, but her presence, her soothing tone, helped him relax.
He could feel the cool touch of a wet cloth on his forehead, her hands moving gently as she made sure he was comfortable.
"Yes, Zhi'er," she murmured with relief. "Rest. You're getting better."
Her words were the last thing he heard before the weight of sleep fully took over, his body finally beginning to relax.
---
The next morning…
As Yang Zhizun woke, confusion clouded his mind. His head felt heavy, and his body stiff. Slowly, he tried to open his eyes, but grogginess held him back. Pushing himself up to sit, he blinked as the light in the room hit his half-opened eyes.
"That dream—"
He began to murmur but suddenly froze.
For a moment, he forgot how to speak, stunned into silence by the sight before him.
Is this real? he wondered.
He had never imagined he could be left speechless, yet here he was.
It was just that the sight before him was so stunning, it left him momentarily frozen.
As soon as he opened his eyes, he saw her—the same woman from the memories. She sat by his bedside.
Her beauty was beyond anything he had ever seen, almost too perfect to be real. Her face was soft and radiant, with a calm grace that made her seem otherworldly.
He couldn't take his eyes off her. In his previous life, he had never seen anyone like her. It felt surreal, like he was still dreaming.
For a brief moment, Yang Zhizun was caught off guard, lost in her presence. Her beauty wasn't just striking—it was mesmerizing. He found himself speechless, unsure how to react.
Oblivious to Yang Zhizun's condition, she looked at him with concern.
"Zhi'er, are you feeling better?" she asked, her voice gentle as she stroked his head. He nodded absentmindedly, still trying to process everything—the memories, the situation, the unfamiliar surroundings.
She didn't seem to notice his hesitation.
"Let's get you washed up and have some breakfast," she continued. "You'll feel much better after eating."
Still dazed, he followed her instructions, moving mechanically. After washing up, he sat down to eat, and as soon as the first bite touched his lips, his stomach growled. The food was delicious, and before he knew it, he was eating more than he thought possible.
"Eat as much as you want, Zhi'er," the woman encouraged, her smile soft. He nodded and continued, feeling the warmth of the meal settle the strange emptiness in his heart.
Once breakfast was done, she asked him to rest, and he followed her instruction and went into the bedroom. However, something kept nagging at him.
He found himself wandering the room, his gaze eventually landed on a full-length mirror near the wardrobe. He paused, hesitant, before walking over to it.
Taking a deep breath, Yang Zhizun stepped in front of the mirror.
His heart skipped a beat, breathless, he stared at the mirror.
The reflection staring back at him was that of a young boy—no more than five years old. Black hair, sapphire-like eyes, soft features, and small frame were unfamiliar and yet... undeniably his.
"Holy..." he muttered. "This... is me now?"
He was simply shocked. He raised a hand to touch his face.
The boy in the mirror mimicked his every move. He couldn't believe it. He wasn't the person he once was; now he had this body.
The memories of the previous owner of this body started flooding in. "This body... it's mine now?"
For a moment, he stood there, lost in thought. The guilt crept in. This wasn't his doing, but he couldn't shake the feeling. His small hands trembled slightly as he looked at them. It was quite hard to accept this new life.
While he remained in deep thoughts, his sister entered the room. She watched him for a while before speaking,
"Zhi'er, what are you doing?"
He didn't respond.
Worried, she moved closer, and shook him gently, calling again,
"Zhi'er—"
As she saw his face, she was surprised and her worry deepened.
"W-What happened? Why are you crying?" she asked, cupping his face.
Startled, Yang Zhizun blinked, his focus shifting to her.
"Big s-sister?"
"Why are you crying? Is something wrong?" she asked again, her voice full of concern.
"Crying?" he muttered, confused.
He hadn't even realized. He touched his cheeks, realizing they were wet.
'Why am I crying? Is it guilt?'
"Tell me what happened," she asked again, her voice soft but firm.
"Nothing, sister," he quickly replied, wiping his face.
Even though he'd said it before, calling her 'sister' still felt strange to him.
"Are you sure?" she asked, her worry evident.
He nodded.
She sighed, not pressing him further, and then gently wiped the remaining tears from his face before picking him up. She placed him on the bed and set him down.
"You can tell me anything, you know. Don't bottle it up."
"If something's bothering you, you can always talk to me. Don't bottle it up," she said softly, stroking his head gently.
As her gentle touch calmed him, Yang Zhizun made a silent promise to himself. He would take care of her. Not only to repay her kindness but also to remind himself that he had taken over an innocent life.
This was his life now, and no matter how strange it felt, he had to live it to the fullest.
While stroking his head, his sister assumed his tears were from lingering pain after yesterday's fever. She had no idea what she was thinking was all wrong.
Ten minutes later, he might be asleep, she stood, and covered him with a blanket.
"Still hurting from yesterday? Don't worry the pain will go away soon after a good rest," she whispered, her voice tinged with concern. She then kissed his forehead and left the room.
Just as she left the room, he opened his eyes, his face flushed.
"W-What was that? It's so embarrassing."
He recalled her words, shaking his head. "She thinks I'm still in pain... and that kiss."
"Humph! Does she think I'm a kid?" he snorted, trying to shake off the embarrassment.
"Fine, fine, I get it. I'm in a five-year-old's body, but mentally, I'm still an adult," he groaned, hit by the harsh reality.
"I need to focus. There's so much to figure out. This system, this world… I need to adapt."
He sighed, shifting his thoughts to the bigger picture.
The weight of the situation began to sink in. He had read about body swapping and reincarnation in novels, but living it was different.
"It's not like I can change what's happened. I just have to accept it."
Lying on the bed, he took a deep breath. "It'll take time, but I'll figure this out."
He stared at the ceiling, his mind racing. Then, his thoughts drifted to his sister.
"And then there's my sister. Even if she's not exactly mine, from now on, she is. She's my 'big sister' now."
"Wait… what was her name again? Ugh, whatever, I'll know it eventually."
He smiled to himself, as he thought.
"And what's more… She's really something. Beautiful, kind... yeah, even fictional characters I know can't compete."
His thoughts wandered before he caught himself. "Whoa, okay. Calm down. Don't start thinking about her like this or I'll sound like a total creep, especially now."
He sighed deeply, trying to reset his focus. "I just need time. Time to adapt to this body, these memories... and this new life."