The sunlight poured gently through the window, illuminating the modest room where Song Shuhang stirred awake. At thirteen, his lean, muscular frame belied his true age, looking closer to sixteen. His black hair was tousled from sleep, and his black eyes reflected a glint of determination. Dressed in a simple white shirt and black pajama, Shuhang stretched and glanced around his room.
His room, though simple, was a testament to his dual lives. Weapons and tools from his family's trade hung neatly on one side, while the other displayed objects that seemed out of place in this world—robotic toys, model cars, and replicas of modern devices from his previous life. These were the fruits of his knowledge as a former chemical engineer in a technologically advanced world.
Shuhang's gaze fell on the project he had worked on late into the night—a suit of armor that resembled a humanoid dragon, inspired by the games he once played. The armor was a marvel, even by the standards of this magical world, and a personal achievement for him. Beside it lay a massive blade, a round shield, and various guns—creations that, for now, remained hidden from the outside world. Only his family knew of their existence.
After ensuring everything was in order, Shuhang freshened up in the bathroom. Despite this world's medieval aesthetic, certain conveniences existed thanks to magical energy, such as a centralized water and waste system. Shuhang injected Ki into the water heater to enjoy a hot shower, a luxury that helped him feel more at home in this foreign world.
Stepping out, he encountered his younger siblings, both bounding down the hallway. His ten-year-old brother, brimming with excitement, tried to rush past their eight-year-old sister.
"Let girls go first, especially when she's your younger sister," Shuhang said with a smirk, catching his brother by the shoulder.
"But I'm faster!" the boy protested, though he relented with a dramatic sigh.
After their sister darted into the bathroom, the boy turned to Shuhang, his eyes sparkling. "Big brother, can I see what you made last night?"
Shuhang grinned. "Of course. Come on."
The two returned to his room, where Shuhang proudly unveiled the armored dragon suit. The intricate craftsmanship and sleek design left his brother wide-eyed.
"What's so special about this one?" his brother asked, inspecting the armor.
Shuhang chuckled. "Try picking it up."
With a determined look, his brother grabbed the armor. Despite being at the 6th level of Ki refinement—strong enough to lift a tonne—he struggled, his face turning red with effort.
"It's... so heavy!" the boy gasped, stepping back.
"That's because I created a new metal alloy. It's denser and more durable than anything we've worked with before," Shuhang explained. "The weight may seem like a disadvantage, but for someone at my level, it's nothing. And the heavier something is, the harder it hits."
"That's so cool!" His brother's eyes lit up with admiration. "When will you teach me how to make it?"
"Soon," Shuhang promised. "For now, focus on mastering the basics. Don't rush—it's more important to understand the 'why' behind every step."
The boy nodded eagerly. "Okay! I'll work hard."
"Good. Now go freshen up so we can start training."
As his brother ran off, Shuhang gazed at the armor, a flicker of ambition in his eyes. Soon, I'll make my own mech suit, he thought. In this world filled with monsters and power-hungry cultivators, he couldn't leave his family's safety to chance. His knowledge of the modern world combined with the resources of this magical realm gave him an edge—and he intended to use it.
Before leaving the room, Shuhang deactivated the light crystal, locked his door, and joined his family in the kitchen. His mother, a kind-hearted woman in her late twenties, was busy cooking while his father, a muscular blacksmith, sat with his little sister. These were the people that gave him affection that his previous life had lacked.
"Good morning, Mom, Dad," Shuhang greeted, grabbing a pot of rice to help his mother.
"Good morning, Shuhang," his mother replied warmly.
"Where's Grandpa?" Shuhang asked, noticing the old man's absence.
His father, a man of few words but with a voice that carried authority, replied, "He left early. There was some work left from yesterday, and the customer wants it ready by nine."
"Should we help him?" Shuhang offered.
His father shook his head. "You know how he is. He doesn't like anyone interfering with his work."
Nodding, Shuhang turned back to the stove, helping prepare the rest of breakfast—rice, eggs, and chicken. The meal was simple but packed with protein, a necessity for their physically demanding lives.
As they ate, Shuhang couldn't help but smile at the simple joy of being surrounded by his family. These were the moments that made him feel alive, and it was a feeling he never thought he'd experience again.
In his previous life, he had been a loner, working in a weapon manufacturing plant, an orphan with no real connections. He had never known true family, never known love the way he did now. He often thought back to the night he died—the stray bullet that took his life, ending his mundane existence.
But when he woke up in this world, everything had changed. By some miracle, he had been reborn as Song Shuhang, and though his memories of the past didn't fully return until he was eight years old, he knew this was where he was meant to be.
He had no intention of letting this second chance slip away. He was determined to make the most of it, to provide for his family and show them the best this world had to offer.