Volume One: The Minor Official of Yangqiu

Chapter 001: Back from the Dead

"CPR!"

"Everyone, hands off!"

"Bring the defibrillator!"

"One more time!"

...

James Thompson's consciousness was fading.

He was probably really going to die.

Facing death, he wasn't particularly afraid. Rather than continue to endure the torment of illness, death might actually be a kind of release.

Ever since his parents passed away, he had no attachments left in this world.

He had long been prepared for death.

The anxious shouts of the doctors gradually faded away, and James Thompson's consciousness sank into an endless abyss.

...

Ancestor Continent.

Zhou Kingdom.

Northern Prefecture.

Desolate Mountain.

In front of the mass grave, a few sparse poplar trees stood there, their leaves rustling in the autumn wind. After circling high above a few times, a crow landed on a protruding grave mound.

At a certain moment, the crow foraging atop the grave was suddenly startled, flapping its wings and flying into the sky.

After a rustling sound, two figures walked up the mountain path.

One was tall, the other short; one fat, the other thin. Both wore light blue constable uniforms. They walked all the way to the mass grave and set down a tattered straw mat. The tall one let out a long sigh of relief and said, "Finally here."

The short constable looked at the protruding grave mounds ahead, shivered involuntarily, and said, "Let's hurry up and dig. Once we bury him, we can go back. This is not a good place—I keep feeling a chill down my back..."

"It's broad daylight, what are you afraid of?" The tall one plopped down, comfortably leaning against a tree, and said, "I'm exhausted. Let's rest a bit first. How did the two of us end up with such a lousy job..."

"Don't say that..." The short one looked at the corpse on the ground, overcome with sadness, and said, "James Thompson is the unlucky one. He was fine just yesterday—how did he suddenly..."

The tall one glanced around and said mysteriously, "I heard his soul was taken by a demon..."

"A demon?" The short one was startled. "Who told you that?"

The tall one swallowed and said, "Isn't that what the storytellers at the brothel always say? A living person's three souls and seven spirits are great nourishment for demons. Some demons specialize in luring away souls to devour and cultivate. Even the coroner couldn't find a cause of death—if that's not the work of demons, what is..."

The wind rustled the leaves, and thinking of terrifying demons, the short one felt chills all around and quickly said, "Stop talking, let's get to work and finish early so we can go back..."

The two picked up their shovels, chose a patch of empty ground, and began to dig a pit.

James Thompson had no relatives and was penniless, unable to afford a coffin. Out of the camaraderie of working together, the two pooled money to buy a straw mat and take care of his burial. That was already more than enough kindness.

...

When James Thompson opened his eyes, he found himself on an unknown desolate mountain. Beside him, two men in ancient uniforms were digging a pit.

He should already be dead. Even if he wasn't, he should be in a hospital. What was this place?

What were these two doing?

Were they trying to bury him alive?

Even if he couldn't pay his medical bills anymore, it shouldn't come to being buried alive...

He reflexively sat up.

Then he froze.

After being bedridden for so long, he hadn't been able to do this movement for half a year. Yet now, he could feel a long-lost strength within his body.

He looked down and found his clothes strange, like the constable or yamen runner outfits in TV dramas, exactly the same as the two men beside him.

Realizing something, he began to examine his hands.

The skin was rough, a callus at the base of his right thumb, and the scar on the back of his hand from childhood was gone—these weren't his hands.

The pit was already half-dug. The two were about to put James Thompson's corpse in when they turned and saw James Thompson sitting up on the straw mat.

James Thompson also turned to look at them.

He opened his mouth, about to ask something, when a sudden sharp pain shot through his eardrums.

"Oh my god!"

"A corpse just sat up!"

With two clangs, the men dropped their shovels and, screaming, scrambled away from James Thompson's sight.

James Thompson looked down at his hands again, utterly bewildered.

...

A long time later, a figure finally appeared on the mountain path.

There was still a trace of confusion on James Thompson's face, but he already understood what had happened.

He clenched his fists and could feel the strength in his body. In other words, his soul had taken over someone else's body.

James Thompson was an atheist, but he'd read plenty of novels for fun, so he wasn't unfamiliar with the idea of transmigration.