"I'm sorry, we've done all we could. Please prepare for the funeral arrangements."
The doctor's voice outside the ward was soft, but Lin Yu, lying on the hospital bed, heard every word clearly.
Perhaps, when death approaches, even one's hearing becomes exceptionally sharp—especially the sound of his mother's weeping, which was particularly piercing.
Lin Yu wasn't the first to lose his life in an act of bravery, and he didn't regret it. He only felt guilty for leaving his mother behind.
His father had passed away early, and his mother had raised him single-handedly, enduring countless hardships. Just as he had graduated with top honors and secured a position at Qinghai City People's Hospital—when life was finally about to brighten for them—this tragedy struck.
"Damn you, heavens."
Good people truly get no rewards. Lin Yu cursed under his breath as his eyelids grew too heavy to keep open, slowly closing.
"My son—!"
A heart-wrenching wail jolted Lin Yu awake. He opened his eyes to find himself standing at the foot of the bed while his mother lay sprawled over it, sobbing uncontrollably.
"Mom, why are you crying? I'm right here—"
Overjoyed, Lin Yu thought he had miraculously recovered. He reached out to pat his mother, only for his hand to pass right through her body.
His mother didn't react at all, continuing to weep over the bed.
Lin Yu's expression changed. He looked up and saw his own lifeless body lying there—his face sunken and pallid, clearly devoid of breath.
*Am I... dead?*
He looked down at his translucent, faintly glowing form standing at the foot of the bed.
*So, souls really do exist after death.*
No matter what he said or did, his mother remained unaware.
With the nurse's help, his mother, grief-stricken, dressed his corpse in burial garments before the mortuary workers loaded it onto a hearse.
His mother climbed in after, sitting beside his body, clutching his hand tightly as tears streamed from her red, swollen eyes. "Yu'er, go in peace. Once I've settled things here, I'll join you soon."
To her, her son was her entire world. With him gone, life held no meaning anymore.
Hearing his mother's suicidal thoughts, Lin Yu panicked. Mimicking scenes from movies, he tried to merge back into his body—but nothing happened. Each time he sat up, only his soul followed.
The hearse soon arrived at the crematorium. After completing the formalities, the staff applied minimal makeup to Lin Yu's corpse before handing his mother a number tag. The crematory workers then wheeled his body toward the furnace.
"No—!"
The moment his body was pushed into the incinerator, Lin Yu shattered.
As his flesh burned, he felt his consciousness weakening. Countless faint points of light scattered from his soul, which itself grew increasingly transparent.
Simultaneously, another world flickered into view before him—an endless expanse of darkness, interspersed with crimson flames and agonized screams.
*Hell.*
It was the first thought that flashed through his mind. Overwhelming terror consumed him.
His soul instinctively thrashed in midair, the glowing fragments continuing to stream away at an accelerating rate.
The hellish landscape grew clearer. A hoarse, sinister voice called out to him from below.
Just as his body was nearly reduced to ashes in the furnace, a jade-green pendant amidst the embers suddenly blazed with radiant light.
This pendant—a keepsake from his late grandfather—had adorned him since childhood. While dressing him for burial, his mother had deliberately left it on.
The pendant's glow intensified until, with a soft *pop*, it shattered. A wisp of emerald light shot out, attaching itself to Lin Yu's soul.
A voice, ancient and resonant, echoed in his mind:
*"I am your ancestral sage. From this day forth, you are my heir—inheritor of my medical arts and mystic techniques. Heal the world, and in doing so, heal yourself..."*
The voice faded, but a flood of knowledge surged into Lin Yu's consciousness: medical secrets, cultivation methods, and his ancestor's life experiences—all pouring into his mind at once.
Sifting through this information, Lin Yu felt exhilarated, as though he'd unlocked a door to a new world.
But the excitement was short-lived. What use were these secrets now? He was still a dead man headed for hell.
Just then, a memory about *soul-returning* surfaced.
According to it, souls that hadn't dispersed after death could possess another body and revive.
Lin Yu's original body was already ashes, but the technique accounted for that: *"If the flesh perishes, become a ghost. Seek a living vessel, then inhabit it."*
Lin Yu inhaled sharply. This meant that without his original body, revival required turning into a ghost and possessing someone else.
But in human consciousness, ghosts were evil incarnate. And taking over another's body would essentially steal their life, wouldn't it?
As he hesitated, his soul grew fainter—now just a wisp of mist. The calls from hell grew louder.
Gritting his teeth, Lin Yu eyed the corpses being wheeled into the crematorium and had an idea. *If the dead won't work, what about the living dead?*
Minutes later, he arrived at Qinghai's largest vegetative-state care center.
Many coma patients lacked consciousness, unlikely to ever wake. Their bodies lived, but their minds were gone. Possessing such a person wouldn't be murder, Lin Yu reasoned.
Initially, he moved from room to room, searching for a suitable host.
But his consciousness was fading fast. The hellish summons grew urgent.
With no time to deliberate, Lin Yu focused on a male coma patient in his twenties. Chanting the soul-returning incantation, his soul condensed into a wisp of white smoke and plunged into the young man's body.
*"You cannot escape—!"*
The summoning voice twisted into a scream before Lin Yu's awareness blinked out entirely.
When he awoke again, blinding light stabbed at his eyes. It took moments to adjust. Looking down, he found himself in a hospital bed.
*Did it work?*
Lin Yu nearly cheered. He bolted upright, examining his new body, then yanked out the IV lines and swung his legs over the bed—only to crumple to the floor.
Muscle atrophy, likely from prolonged immobility.
Staggering up, he checked the wall calendar. A full day had passed. Touching the bed and walls, their solid coldness felt surreal. *Dead yesterday, reborn today.*
After stretching to acclimate to this new form, his first thought was to see his mother. He rushed out of the hospital.
The bun shop was packed—a dozen thugs were harassing his mother to repay debts.
For Lin Yu's surgery, she'd borrowed heavily from loan sharks. Now that he'd died, they'd come to collect.
"I'll sell the shop in a few days and repay you then. Please, just leave now."
His mother's eyes were swollen from crying as she pleaded, wanting them gone before her son's spirit was disturbed.
"Bullshit! This dump's worthless. With your son dead, you'll bolt the second we leave!" The leader, a yellow-haired punk, sneered.
"I won't run. Once I have the money—"
"Not good enough. We want it *today*!"
"But I don't have it! You know all my savings went to his treatment—"
Her voice broke. The pain was unbearable.
"Fine. Hand over that shabby house of yours. Consider it repayment." The punk's eyes gleamed—this was their real goal.
Lin Yu's mother froze. The house, left by her father, was old but prime real estate. In Qinghai's market, it was worth millions. This was outright robbery.
But with her son gone, what use was the house? Paying these debts would let her follow him in peace.
Resigned, she nodded—just as a roar cut through the air.
"NO! That house is worth millions! This is theft!"
Lin Yu charged in, stumbling in his new body.
"Who the hell are you?!" The punk, seeing Lin Yu's hospital gown, assumed he was some escaped mental patient and swung a slap.
Lin Yu dodged instinctively, shoving back. The punk *flew*—soaring five meters before crashing onto a table.
"Kill him!"
Writhing in pain, the punk ordered his gang forward. They swarmed Lin Yu with fists and kicks—but he countered effortlessly.
The shop echoed with howls—all from the thugs.
Despite outnumbering him ten to one, none could land a hit. Lin Yu's strikes, however, felt like being hit by a truck—one punch per man, leaving them incapacitated.
Lin Yu was stunned too. Ghost possession granted inhuman strength, and their movements seemed sluggish to him, easily dodged.
"Call the cops!"
The punk leader, terrified, had never seen anyone fight like this.
Hearing this, Lin Yu's mother grabbed his arm. "Young man, run! I'll handle this."
"Mom, how could I leave you?"
Lin Yu was overjoyed—seeing her again was everything.
Her bewildered stare reminded him: *She doesn't recognize this body.*
"Sorry, auntie. You reminded me of my mom," he lied, not wanting to terrify her with the truth.
"Go! Don't get involved." She pushed him toward the door.
Instead of leaving, Lin Yu snatched chopsticks from a table and hurled them. They *thunked* into the wall, pinning the punk's phone mid-dial.
The punk paled. An inch lower, and those would've been his skull.
"Help! Murder!" he wailed, the injustice overwhelming—*they* were the creditors here!
"Shut up. I'll repay Auntie's debt!"
Lin Yu's voice was ice. Alive again, these were now his burdens.
"Young man, we've just met. You can't—"
His mother studied him, puzzled by his familiar aura. She wasn't surprised he knew her surname—after her son's heroic death, netizens had doxxed her details. Many kind souls had offered condolences, but she'd declined all.
"Good! Then pay up now," the punk demanded, uncaring why a stranger would settle another's debt.
"Give me three days."
"..." The punk nearly choked. All that bravado for a delay?
"You don't trust me?"
Lin Yu's glare sent a chill down the punk's spine.
"I do! But... what's your name, boss?"
*Name?*
Lin Yu realized he hadn't even checked this body's identity in his haste.
"Don't worry. In three days, right here, I'll repay everything—principal and interest."
His confidence came from this new form. Anyone in long-term care must have family resources. He'd borrow now and repay once he earned money.
The punk, intimidated, nodded—then froze, staring past Lin Yu.
Turning, Lin Yu saw a red BMW X5 outside. The door opened, revealing slender, pale legs before a tall woman in a white bohemian dress stepped out.
Tucking glossy black hair behind an ear, she removed sunglasses, revealing flawless features. The thugs gaped.
Lin Yu was equally struck—her beauty and poise were exceptional.
Frowning at the bun shop, the beauty strode in.
"Miss, what filling would you like?"
Lin Yu automatically slipped into his old sales pitch—a reflex from helping his mother.
"*Miss*?" Her icy glare could freeze lava.
"Yes... miss?"
Lin Yu was baffled. Who took offense to being called beautiful?
Her eyes raked over him. "Impressive, He Jiarong. Two months in a coma, and you forget your own wife."