On a patch of land beside a monastery, the gentle April breeze swayed the leaves, and the soft sunlight bathed the plants in warmth. Lush nurseries were scattered across the small fields, and a group of black-clad monks worked diligently among them.
Amidst them, a small boy dressed in simple white cloth squatted by the edge of the field, struggling to pull weeds.
Seemingly tired, the boy stood up, revealing a head of chestnut-colored short hair and a slightly round face with rosy lips. His lake-blue eyes twinkled like stars, giving him an endearing, likable appearance.
He seemed to encounter a difficulty, sighing softly.
"Three years... when will this end?"
He reflected on the past three years—waking at 4 a.m. for prayers, working the fields by 6, eating a monotonous black porridge for lunch at 11, and only getting a slice or two of smoked meat on holidays. At 2 p.m., he learned to write and copy scriptures, followed by another round of the same black porridge for dinner at 6. Prayers at 7, bed by 9—his life more regimented than any high school schedule.
Looking up at the somewhat harsh sun, he muttered, "I'm still a growing kid!"
The boy's name was Mike Bai, a 9-year-old body with the soul of a 30-year-old.
Three years ago, the original Mike Bai had come to the monastery, sick and disoriented by the new environment. After falling gravely ill, he passed away quietly one night.
But another soul—one not belonging to this world—unexpectedly arrived.
Mike Bai swore he had never imagined anything like it. One moment, he was simply opening the door to his rented apartment, ready to go to work. Then everything went black. When he awoke, he found himself in this strange and dark world. Fortunately, the original Mike Bai had only recently arrived at the monastery, so when Mike Bai woke up, no one noticed the switch, and the body was seamlessly replaced.
However, Mike Bai almost went mad adjusting to this new environment. With a mature soul, he had to constantly act like a 6-year-old, for any deviation could be deemed as demonic possession, with dire consequences.
So, our little Mike Bai had to wear a constantly innocent and charming smile, enduring daily hardships alongside the other monks.
But fortunately, this particular monastery followed an ascetic order, and the monks treated him with kindness, offering help whenever needed. Nothing truly strange happened.
"Little Mike Bai!" A black-clad monk waved to him from a distance. "Come over here."
Mike Bai immediately put on his brightest smile and scampered over on his short legs.
"Uncle Albert, what is it?"
"The abbot is looking for you," the monk named Albert said, smiling kindly as he brushed a piece of straw from Mike Bai's head. He gestured toward a carriage parked by the gate. "Looks like we have a visitor."
Mike Bai waved and ran toward the inner courtyard to the abbot's office.
As he passed the monastery gates, he couldn't help but glance at the carriage. It was an ordinary four-wheeled cart, worn at the edges, indicating its owner was not wealthy. But the flag hanging from the cart's door depicted a lion in mid-pounce, a symbol of military prowess.
The coachman, feeding the horses nearby, seemed to take special notice of Mike Bai, flashing a curious look his way. Mike Bai blinked but thought little of it as he continued toward the abbot's office.
Passing the magnificent chapel and feeling the gaze of the holy icons upon him, Mike Bai turned into a dim stone corridor. At the end of the hallway was a two-story loft. Climbing the creaking wooden stairs, he reached a room where a faint argument could be heard.
After steadying his breath, Mike Bai knocked softly on the door.
"Enter," came an elderly voice from within.
Mike Bai pushed the door open, and before him stood shelves lined with books, densely packed and organized. In the center of the room was a sturdy oak desk, upon which sat a scroll with ink still wet.
"Mike Bai, you've arrived," the abbot said, smiling warmly, though his expression was slightly serious. In Mike Bai's memory, the kind old man always wore a gentle smile, but today he appeared unusually grave.
"Little Mike Bai, this is your uncle, Baron Otto from Mecklenburg."
Only now did Mike Bai notice the man standing to the right—a knight in his early thirties. About 5'7", the knight wore somewhat disheveled black hunting garb, and his bloodshot eyes revealed his exhaustion. Yet, his melancholic air and piercing lake-blue eyes were enough to melt the hearts of countless noble ladies.
"This is a man with a story," Mike Bai thought.
Meanwhile, Baron Otto, who had been watching Mike Bai, spoke, "It seems you've had a decent life these past years, child," before sighing deeply. "Though this may be difficult to accept, you must return with me to the family."
Mike Bai stared, stunned, first at the baron, then at the abbot. The abbot raised his hand, signaling for the baron to continue.
"Your cousin… was called to the Lord's side last month," the baron said, as if recalling a funeral from a month ago. He paused, then added, "Our family is in need of a successor."
Turning to the abbot, the baron continued calmly, "While serving the Lord is the greatest honor, I hope you will allow Mike Bai to return with us and carry His light in the secular world."
The abbot made the sign of the cross and replied, "I am deeply saddened by the events in your family. May the Lord have mercy on you." He then stood, walking over to Mike Bai and gently patting his head.
"Little Mike Bai, I know you're a wise child," the abbot smiled, "Though you've only been here three years, I know you are different from the others. Please always remember the Lord's teachings and keep your heart pure."
Turning back to the baron, the abbot said, "I will take care of Mike Bai's matters, but as for Lady Otto..."
The baron interrupted, "I will handle matters with my wife." Sensing his blunt tone, the baron added, "I thank you for the care you've shown Mike Bai these three years. Please accept this token of gratitude from the Adler family." With that, he bowed his head slightly.
The abbot sighed, then patted Mike Bai's back. "Go pack your things. Prepare to leave the monastery."
Mike Bai, stunned by how his fate was being decided, lowered his head with difficulty. After a long pause, he spoke quietly, "Abbot, may the Lord always bless you. I will visit often." With that, he turned and dashed out, covering his face, tears threatening to spill.
"The child is good," the abbot murmured, gazing at the empty door with a hint of melancholy. After a moment, he turned to the baron and said seriously, "I trust you are aware of the pope's will…"
Outside, Mike Bai was running frantically, covering his face with both hands. Anyone watching would think he was a sorrowful child about to leave home.
But the truth?
"Finally… this hellish life is over!" Mike Bai thought, ecstatic.
There was little to pack—just a few clothes folded hastily. He bid farewell to the few monks he knew and walked with a mix of fake sorrow toward the monastery gates.
The coachman, seemingly aware of everything, helped Mike Bai load his belongings into the carriage.
"Wait, Little Mike Bai!" Just as Mike Bai was about to board, Brother Albert rushed over with a Bible in hand.
"The abbot didn't want to see you upset, so he asked me to give you this." Albert handed him the Bible. "May the Lord bless you," he said, crossing himself and walking away.
"Thank you, Uncle Albert," Mike Bai said, accepting the gift and waving goodbye. As memories of the past three years flashed through his mind, he couldn't help but feel a small pang of sadness.
Albert turned and entered the monastery.
After a short wait, Baron Otto finally climbed into the carriage. He glanced at Mike Bai, as if about to speak, but instead, he tapped the back of the carriage, signaling the coachman to depart.
The carriage slowly rumbled forward, rolling along the dirt road toward the vast forest. The tall trees gradually obscured the sunlight.
Inside, Mike Bai held the Bible to his chest, reflecting on the family he left behind in his past life and the three years he spent here.