The man rose from the bed, his limbs feeling stiff from the unfamiliarity of his new body. As his gaze drifted toward the mirror across the room, an irresistible curiosity tugged at him. He moved toward it, stepping slowly, as if guided by an invisible force.
The reflection that greeted him was startling, yet oddly familiar. His silver-grey hair cascaded just above his shoulders, framing a face that was undeniably beautiful, albeit still youthful. His piercing purple eyes stared back at him, holding a depth that seemed to transcend his years. The boy in the mirror looked around 14 years old, a fact that both surprised and unsettled him.
The man's brow furrowed as he studied the reflection. His lips, his eyes, the way his hair fell—every aspect of it appeared so natural, so ingrained, as if it belonged to him. But why? He had never seen this face before, yet it felt as though it were his own.
A sudden realization struck him like a bolt of lightning. This face, this body—this wasn't just anyone's. He wasn't merely inhabiting a random life. This was Zhao Yun.
The boy's name, the character from the novel he had read in his past life, surged back to him. The familiar face he now wore belonged to a minor villain at the beginning of that story. The same villain who would eventually be overshadowed by the heroes, whose ambitions would ultimately be thwarted. And yet, here he was, in this very body, thrust into the role without any prior warning.
But how? How had this extraordinary occurrence transpired? Was it merely a dream? A peculiar twist of fate? Or… was it real?
His heart pounded as the truth began to sink in. He wasn't merely in any ordinary world. He was in a novel world—a world that he had once read about, where cultivation and power held sway over one's destiny. The pieces of the puzzle began to fall into place, though he still grappled with the implications of this revelation.
His phone buzzed, jolting him from his thoughts. He glanced down, his hands trembling as he picked it up. The notification read:
"Cultivation Academy Announces Admission of 15 Year Olds in 5 Months."
He clicked on the article and skimmed through it, feeling his mind spin. The academy, centuries old, was finally opening its doors to children at the age of 15. Known for training young energy-harnessers, it would soon expand its reach.
The words blurred as he read: Cultivation, power, realms. It all felt familiar, though he'd read about it in books. To think it was real, to be part of this world, was overwhelming.
He looked up, trying to ground himself. Drawn by an inexplicable urge, he moved toward the window. Gazing into the sky, he froze.
Three suns hung high, their warm glow bathing the city in an ethereal light. Unlike anything from his past life—three blazing orbs of energy circling planets—they were real and present. Science fiction or fantasy novels had only described them. But here they were, casting impossible shadows and light.
Then he truly understood the magnitude of the situation. This wasn't a dream or illusion. He had somehow transmigrated into a world he'd only read about. A world of cultivation, powerful forces, and realms that could elevate or destroy.
He stood there, heart pounding, as the realization solidified. This wasn't just a new life; it was a novel life, already written, now lived. The world around him was the novel's world, and he was Zhao Yun's replacement.
But what was his next move? Would he conform to the path laid out for him, or would he forge his own path? One thing was certain: he wouldn't let this world, this life, slip away without leaving his mark.