What happened to my body on Earth?
The thought was a cold fist closing around Lin Yun's heart.
Did his coworkers find him? Did his landlord?
The image of his parents, their faces crumpling in grief upon hearing the news, flashed before his eyes. His mother's tears, his father's stoic silence that hid a world of pain... The guilt was sudden and crushing. He was their only son. He had been so focused on scraping a life together in the city that he rarely went home. And now... he would never go home again.
And Xin Yao. His girlfriend of five years. They had met in university, full of dreams. But reality had been harsh. Salaries were low, housing prices in Shanghai were astronomical. They had talked about marriage, but it always felt like a distant, financial impossibility.
Had she been notified? Was she heartbroken, grieving for the future they had planned but never achieved? Or... a more cynical, painful thought wormed its way in... was she, in some small, secret part of her heart, relieved? Relieved to be free from a relationship that had become more about struggling together than thriving together?
The uncertainty was a special kind of torture.
Lin Yun had been so consumed by his new life that he had completely forgotten the old one. Now, the memories and the questions rushed in to fill the quiet moment, each one a sharp sting of loss and regret.
The only comfort, the only anchor in this storm of sorrow, was the family here. Lin Canghai and Mu Qiuxue. Through the memories of the body's original owner, he knew their faces, their voices, their stern but deep love for their youngest son.
And the shocking, inexplicable truth was... they looked exactly like his own parents on Earth. The same lines on their faces, the same look in their eyes. It was uncanny, heart-wrenching, and deeply confusing.
The rational part of his brain knew they weren't the same people. On Earth, he had a younger sister who was the apple of his parents' eye. Here, he had an overpowered elder brother and a fiercely protective elder sister. The family structure was different. The circumstances were different.
But his heart, influenced by the flood of the original Lin Yun's memories and emotions, didn't seem to care. The affection felt real. The sense of belonging felt real. When Lin Wanrou had fussed over him, it had felt... like family. It was a lifeline thrown to a drowning man, and he clung to it desperately.
Maybe the articles on the internet were right, he mused, staring at the magnificent, impossible sunset.
He remembered reading wild theories about consciousness after death—that it doesn't vanish, but transits to another universe, another reality, to live a new life. Was that what this was?
Had Lin Yun, the programmer, died of exhaustion in his apartment, only to have his consciousness wake up in the body of Lin Yun, the cultivator?
Was this the universe's way of giving him a second chance? A bizarre, cultivation-themed second chance?
The concept was too vast, too terrifying to fully grasp. He could drive himself mad trying to find an answer. Perhaps some questions were meant to remain mysteries.
He was so lost in his thoughts that he didn't hear the soft footsteps approaching.
"Young Master, I brought you some tea and snacks."
Lin Yun started, pulled from his deep reverie. Yu Tao'er stood there, holding a small wooden tray with a simple ceramic teapot, a cup, and a small plate of pastries that glimmered faintly with spiritual energy.
"Thank you, Tao'er," he said, his voice quieter than usual.
She set the tray on a small stone table beside his recliner and began to pour the tea. The liquid was a pale gold and emitted a soothing, fragrant steam that carried notes of honey and some unknown spirit flower.
She glanced at his face, noticing his unusually pensive, almost sorrowful expression. "Young Master... is everything alright? You look... sad."
Lin Yun was silent for a moment, watching the steam curl from the teacup into the cool evening air. He looked from the beautiful, concerned girl to the breathtaking, otherworldly sunset over the spirit lake.
Suddenly, the question spilled out, born from the deep well of confusion and existential dread inside him. "Tao'er... what do you think the afterlife is like?"
Yu Tao'er froze, the teapot still in her hand. Her big, round eyes widened in surprise. This was such a sudden, profound question from a Young Master who usually only worried about his next meal or how to avoid his studies.
She blinked, setting the pot down carefully. She thought for a moment, her head tilted, her expression turning naive and sincere.
"Well..." she began slowly, choosing her words with the simple wisdom of the young and faithful. "My grandmother always said that those who decrease... they don't really go to a scary place. They said it's like... going to a beautiful, endless field under a forever-sunset. And there, they get to live inside the happiest moment of their life, over and over again. And they are reunited with all the loved ones who went before them. So... it's not sad. It's peaceful. It's happy."
She finished with a firm, hopeful nod, as if this was an indisputable fact of the universe.
Lin Yun fell completely silent. He stared at her, then turned his gaze back to the sunset.
The happiest moment of their life, over and over again. Reunited with loved ones?
The simplicity of her answer, the pure faith behind it, struck a deep chord within him. It was a comforting thought. A beautiful thought. Maybe, wherever his parents were, they were together, happy. Maybe, on some other plane of existence, his family was whole.
He didn't know if it was true. He would probably never know.
But as he sat there, in a body that wasn't his, in a world that shouldn't exist, watching a sunset more beautiful than any he had ever seen, he chose, for a moment, to believe it.
He picked up the teacup, the warmth seeping into his hands. He took a slow sip. The tea was perfect.
"Thank you, Tao'er," he said again, his voice softer, the weight on his heart a little lighter.
At this moment, Lin Yun made up his mind. He would carry his grief. He would carry his questions. But he would also carry this second chance.
For now, that was enough…