Feng strolled down the street, whistling a tune that only he could understand. In his hand, he swung a designer purse he'd just snatched from an unlucky pickpocket. "Finder's keepers," he mused, recalling how both the thief and the original owner had fled in panic. "No wonder that mutt was barking this morning. It was a sign of good fortune!"
Crouching by the roadside, Feng rummaged through the bag. "Not bad," he muttered, counting the cash. "Wonder where a young girl got all this dough?" Besides the money, he found only a man's business card. "Shame there's no contact info for the girl. Could've been interesting."
The card belonged to a small-time director Feng had never heard of. He sighed, disappointed at missing out on a potential beauty. Using money to chase women? That was for guys with no confidence. Feng considered himself quite the catch, but he and his buddies were barely scraping by. Money was tight, and putting food on the table was the priority.
Lost in thought, Feng barely registered the sports car careening down the street. His nimble reflexes, honed from years of practice, allowed him to dodge effortlessly. But fate had other plans.
The out-of-control vehicle mounted the curb. In that split second before impact, Feng's mind raced. "Even I'm not unlucky enough for this, right? That damn dog wasn't heralding good fortune after all. If I survive this, I'm turning that mutt into soup!"
Chaos erupted around him. Feng struggled to open his eyes, his eyelids feeling like lead weights. "Am I dead?" he wondered. "Is this what it's like to be a ghost?"
He tried to clench his fist, willing himself to wake up. That's when he heard an excited female voice: "Quick, call for help! Young Master Lin's hand just moved!"
"Young Master? Who's that?" Feng's mind whirred. "Am I… alive?"
Footsteps approached, and a dignified female voice spoke urgently: "Doctor Zhang, please check on Feng immediately. He's the last of the Lin bloodline. I brought him to the palace for safety, yet this still happened."
"Palace? Doctor? Your Highness?" Feng's thoughts raced. "Have I… traveled through time? And I'm related to royalty?"
A chicken-claw-like hand grasped Feng's wrist, sending shivers down his spine. Just as his mind wandered to thoughts of palace life and beautiful women, a sharp pain shot through his finger. The agony jolted him upright, his eyes flying open.
Seeing the golden needle in his finger, Feng's temper flared. But before he could act, a woman embraced him, sobbing, "Feng, you're alright! Please be more careful. No more running into walls, okay?"
As her tears fell on his face, Feng's anger dissipated. He could feel the genuine concern radiating from her trembling body. Having grown up without much affection, this outpouring of emotion touched him deeply.
Feng knew he had to tread carefully. Who knows what relationship this woman had with the body he now inhabited? One wrong move in the imperial palace could be fatal.
"What… what happened? I can't remember," Feng stammered, feigning confusion.
"Feng, it's me, your aunt! Don't you recognize me?" the woman, apparently the Empress, asked worriedly.
"Aunt, I'm… I'm just a bit dizzy. I think I need some rest," Feng replied, lowering his gaze.
"Of course, dear. Rest well. If you need anything, just call for the palace maids," the Empress said, rising to leave.
As the entourage departed, Feng's mind raced. He wasn't worried about maintaining his act – he was a master of deception, after all. No, his primary concern now was gathering information about the unfortunate soul whose body he now possessed. That was the key to navigating this new world he found himself in.