The smell of pancakes sizzling in the pan filled the room, and the soft chatter of his new family filled the air. The boy sat at the table, his plate piled high with food, but his mind was elsewhere. He pushed his food around with his fork, his mind wandering back to the crazy and unexpected events that had happened since he woke up in a new body.
His family seemed happy and carefree, chatting and laughing together. But for him, each bite of food felt like a distant memory. He wasn't really there, his mind was all wrapped up in the novel. The one he'd somehow gotten stuck in.
He had never fully understood how reincarnation worked, but he was sure of one thing now—he wasn't the same person anymore. His body, his face, his existence… everything about him was different, yet he carried the same name, the same memories, the same desires. And the more he thought about it, the more he realized that he was inside a world of fiction, a world that he had once read about, one that had no room for him in its plot.
His mind drifted to the main character in the book. The boy had a few memories from his past life—he knew the basic plots of popular novels. In this one, the hero was a righteous guy with big dreams. He wanted to rule the world, get rid of all the evil beings, and bring peace and order. He was super determined, like he could change the world. There was something almost perfect about him, something that made people follow him without a second thought.
But the boy wasn't interested in that kind of grand vision. He wasn't interested in ruling or eradicating evil. Those things didn't matter to him. What mattered was living freely, making choices for himself, and building a life that satisfied his own desires. He didn't care about the world. He just wanted to indulge in whatever made him feel alive, and if that meant killing anyone who got in his way, then so be it.
He could already feel his wildest dreams pulling at him, but for now, he'd stay grounded. The world of the novel felt like a dream, and even though he knew he was a part of it, he couldn't let the story get the best of him.
Then his thoughts shifted to Zhao Yun, the person whose body he now inhabited. In the original story, Zhao Yun was a villain, a minor one at the beginning. There was little known about his background, only fragments of information here and there. He wasn't much of a threat compared to the protagonist, yet he managed to cause trouble in the early stages of the novel.
Zhao Yun had made life difficult for the hero, a mere nuisance at first, but one that held potential for greater conflict. His cultivation potential had been a mystery—no one knew exactly how strong he could become, but it was clear that he wasn't just some insignificant character.
However, Zhao Yun's life took a tragic turn, ending in suicide. He couldn't make sense of why he had reached such a desperate point. What had driven him to this decision? And more importantly, why had the novel left him so abruptly? The story didn't give him any clues about his fate—only that he had disappeared, leaving his life behind without any explanation.
The boy couldn't deny the eerie familiarity of the situation. Could this be his fate as well? Would he end up like Zhao Yun, discarded and forgotten by the world? Or could he change the course of his life, make his own mark, and not simply be another character lost to the story's inevitable conclusion?
He shook his head, trying to push away the uncertainty. It wasn't important right now. What mattered was the present, the family around him, and the life he was trying to build. The world of the novel was just a backdrop. He had a new chance at life, and he wouldn't waste it on things that didn't matter.
As he finished his breakfast, the boy made a silent vow to himself. He would not be bound by the constraints of the original Zhao Yun's fate. He would carve his own path, and if that meant going against the flow of the novel, so be it. He wasn't going to die the same way as Zhao Yun. He wasn't going to disappear.
This time, he would live on his terms.