(You can skip the half of chapter, and start from the (****) this sign. Well but I hope, you should read this also and give me, your opinion about this.)
Chapter: 1; Reborn
"Aman, I think you should aim for a government job after you go to college. As your parents and a teacher, I want to see you in the best position in the civil services of our country. I know you want to create your own business, but think from society's perspective, you've already failed the 12th grade once, and they obviously know. As your parents, our reputation, which I've built over the years, has already been tarnished by you. Your head hangs low in shame. So, even if you want to start a business, you should first secure a government job and work for some time to restore our family's reputation."
A slightly middle-aged man wearing glasses looked sternly at his eighteen year old son as he spoke.
When Aman heard this, he sighed. He had no objections to going to college, but working a government job? That was a life he had never dreamed for himself.
"Father." Aman began, his tone was calm but there was also something else, "I know it was my fault that I didn't study that subject, which caused me to fail. But I've already passed it now.
"I have no objection to going to college; I want to go to college. But preparing for the government civil services? That's something I just can't do. And as for reputation, society doesn't care about your failures; they care about your money, and how much you earn. If you have money, even if you've failed exams, they won't judge you. In fact, they'll use you as an example, saying, 'That man's son failed, but he still succeeded in life, living a life they could never imagine.'"
Slap!
A loud slap landed on Aman's face. Before he could react, another one was placed on the other cheek.
"Papa..." Aman said glaring at his father's eyes, holding his face, with his hands. He didn't get angry, but something deep within him broke. The hope he carried in his heart began to fade.
The sting from the slap burned not only his skin but also his spirit. His father stood tall, his glasses, but his eyes burned with frustration and disappointment.
"You dare talk back to me?!" his father roared. "What do you know about life? About respect? About building a reputation that will outlast you? Do you think money is everything? Respect comes from values, hard work, and serving your country—not chasing some childish dream of starting a business!"
"Morales person.....! You are not a human being but rather an devil. That has come to destroy our life."
Aman's lips trembled, but he held back the tears threatening to spill. His mother, standing silently in the corner, flinched at her husband's harsh words but said nothing. Her gaze shifted between Aman and his father, torn between supporting her son and maintaining peace in the household.
Taking a deep breath, Aman straightened his back and spoke, his voice much calmer than earlier but resolute. "Father, I respect you. I always have. But your dreams are not my dreams. I don't want to live a life where I sacrifice my happiness just to please others, and so called for the reputation. I've seen you work tirelessly your whole night, sitting in front of the computer, even through freezing nights, chasing society's approval. But have you ever asked yourself what you really wanted? Like every middle-class person, you work and die, not for yourself, but for society."
"You said that I failed; I know I did. But you also know why. I was focused on the stock market and investment studies. When you saw me studying the market, you told me it was useless. Even though I still did later, your words have affected me. Most of the time, my mind was filled by this conflict."
"And you said I should talk to others and share my problems with you. But every time I tried, you both made fun of me. Just like today, you're calling my ambition for business, 'childish.'"
The room fell silent. His father's stern expression faltered for a moment, but he quickly hardened it again.
"Give me your phone, SIM card, bank card, and marksheet—everything. Move to the ground floor. You don't have to stay on the second floor," his father said angrily.
"I can give you anything else, but not my phone!" Aman replied firmly. Without a phone, living in this era was nearly impossible.
"Are you seeing this, Aman's mother? How shameless he's become! He has no respect for us. He never cared about our happiness and reputation!" Aman's father's anger flared even more at the refusal.
"Haha… so you're saying I should waste 5–6 years on useless studies, then get a job, earn money, and only then start a business? All to earn some so-called respect that no one actually cares about? Why don't you just admit you brought me into this world to boost your own reputation? Am I just here to elevate your standing in society?" Aman, unable to hold back anymore, let his anger erupt.
"I never imagined you thought of us like this," his father said coldly, turning away. "Fine... do what you want."
Without another word, his parents retired to their room.
---
After what felt like hours, he finally got up, combed his hair, and left the house.
---
At the Market
Aman wandered aimlessly through the market, grief weighing heavy on his shoulders. He knew he had said hurtful things to his parents, but he couldn't bring himself to regret speaking his truth. He never wanted to live and die for others.
Just as he sat down on a park bench, lost in thought, a small voice interrupted him.
"Big brother… My balloon is stuck in the tree. Can you help me get it down?"
Aman found a little girl, no more than seven or eight years old, pointing at a balloon snagged in the branches of a tree.
He didn't refuse her directly but asked gently, "Little sister, where are your parents? Are you here alone?"
"Uh… my parents are over there!" she replied, pointing to a couple playing with a younger child nearby.
Aman nodded, ruffling her hair. "Alright, big brother will get your balloon. Wait here for a moment."
He walked over to the tree and, after five minutes of effort, managed to retrieve the balloon. He handed it back to her with a small smile.
"Thank you, big brother!" the girl said, beaming. Then, she held out a small amulet. "Please take this and wear it. I don't have any thread, but my mother says that when someone helps you, you should give them something for blessings and safety."
Aman's heart melted at her innocent gesture. He took the amulet and wore it in his wrist.
"Alright, go back to your parents, otherwise they'll be worried." Aman said, patting her head.
"Okay, big brother! Goodbye!" she chirped, waving as she ran off.
---
On the Way Home
Horn!
Just as Aman was about to cross the street at a zebra crossing, a loud honk shattered the stillness. Before he could react, a massive semi-truck came hurtling toward him.
Bang!
The impact was immediate. Aman's body hit the ground with a loud thud, blood pooling beneath him.
Aman died on the spot.
**********************************************
---
In the Unknown Ancient Universe
In the deep, vast world...
In a forest, a boy around 10–12 years old opened his eyes and looked around himself for a moment.
"Uhh...where is this...?"
For a moment, he was confused. As far as he could remember, he had been in an accident while crossing the road, but looking at the environment around him now, he was completely bewildered. He had been to villages with lots of trees and forests before, but they never gave such a peaceful and calm vibe. Even the air quality here felt unreal.
Ahh…!
Before he could think further, a sharp pain struck his head, and he passed out again.
---
Some Time Later
"Qiangu Qitian…"
After finally waking up, the boy murmured the name. It was unfamiliar yet somehow familiar.
After digesting the memories flooding his mind, the boy came to a conclusion: either he had taken over the body of this boy, their souls had merged, or he had been reincarnated into this world without fully awakening his memories.
The language of this world was completely different from anything he had ever heard, even though he had been exposed to many languages in his previous life. But none of them were as exciting as what he learned from the memories of this body.
This was a cultivation world—a place where people cultivated power and were called cultivators.
In his previous life, he had read many novels about such worlds, but they had been mere fantasies. Now, it was real.
---
After coming to terms with his new reality, he decided to leave the forest first. From the memories he inherited, he knew this forest was extremely dangerous for someone like him, who had no cultivation. The boy, Qiangu Qitian, had entered this forest to collect herbs for cultivation, but somehow, he had ended up here in his body.
"Let's leave first, and since this boy's name is Qiangu Qitian, from now on, in this world, my name will be the same."
Although he carried many regrets from his previous life, he couldn't change the past. He had failed his family before, but in this new world, he resolved to live differently. Here, strength and potential were valued above all, and Qiangu Qitian, despite his knowledge of herbs and the world, had never truly begun cultivation.
---
He decided to collect some herbs before leaving the forest. From the inherited memories, he identified some useful plants.
"Moonlight grass, Thunder grass, Earth Orchid, Blood Fire Petal, and other low-level grasses."
Looking at the herbs, Qiangu Qitian was astonished. Their value was immense. On Earth, these herbs could make anyone a billionaire. In this world, they were highly beneficial for improving physical cultivation, the first stage of cultivation known as the Blood Forging Realm.
However, he lacked the proper method to absorb the herbs' medicinal properties. Directly eating them would waste most of their potential. Instead, he remembered an alternative method: soaking the herbs in water, heating it, and consuming the infused liquid to retain more of their medicinal effects.
---
He checked the small bag hanging from his waist. It was a storage device—a magical item in this world. It reminded him of the "4D pocket" from an anime he had watched in his previous life.
This device required spiritual power to open, though some advanced ones opened automatically. Qiangu Qitian had acquired it in a ruin when he was seven years old.
"I need water, a big basket, dried wood for a fire, a lighter, and a safe place where I won't be disturbed."
He began to plan where to find these resources. He had the basket and could gather wood from the forest. For water, he remembered a nearby river that also had a waterfall—a perfect spot for cultivation.
After gathering the herbs, Qiangu Qitian set off in the direction of the river, ready to leave, towards the river basin.
[A/N]
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