“Rumble...” A clap of thunder exploded, and a bolt of lightning flashed nearby, illuminating the world in an instant.

Raindrops struck the glass window with a pattering sound, finally waking the person inside the room.

Sean Foster got up from the bamboo mat, drenched in sweat, feeling a bit dazed. He sat in a stupor for a moment before realizing where he was. He walked to the bathroom, turned on the water heater, casually set it to forty degrees, and immediately, forty-degree warm water showered down from above.

Directly opposite was a mirror, and in it was a stranger—a young man, still quite handsome, though his muscles were a bit loose, clearly not someone who exercised. But after all, he was young, and his figure was still very good.

Sweat was washed away along with the warm water. With a press of a button, fragrant shower foam sprayed down, cleansing him thoroughly. He rinsed off with clean water, then, feeling refreshed, took out a dry towel to wipe himself, got dressed, and came out.

Dark clouds still gathered in the sky, raindrops fell like a hanging waterfall. From time to time, golden lightning snaked across the sky, and occasionally a thunderclap crashed down, deafeningly loud.

The balcony was quite large, the lights were on, and outside the sky was gloomy. He poured a glass of juice and sat on a rattan chair between the living room and the balcony, facing the heavy rain. Within ten meters, he could still make out some grass; beyond that, everything was shrouded in mist and darkness.

A gust of wind blew by, carrying raindrops onto his face. The cool wind and rain instantly cleared his mind. Suddenly, a flash of lightning lit up everything before his eyes, and he could see the distant rockery appearing and disappearing—a truly delightful sight.

Sean Foster fell into deep thought, countless memories intertwining and mixing, as he sipped his juice, gazing at the rain in silence.

The Fang surname, descendants of the Shennong clan.

The Meng surname, descendants of the Yellow Emperor.

He was fifteen years old this year. His father was James Foster, and his mother was Megan Bennett.

As memories flowed by, Sean Foster revealed a bitter smile whose meaning was unclear.

Many things in his memory told him clearly that this was not the world he originally came from.

Qi Cultivation Technique, a family method for nurturing qi.

Sean Foster's moral values and religious beliefs originated from the Chinese pantheon. To uphold his faith, the original him would do certain things, but never anything that would endanger his life. It was his family and the social atmosphere that taught him to accept these moral concepts and beliefs.

And so much more...

As he pondered, the rain gradually slowed, the waterfall on the rockery stopped, and on the eaves, the drops fell sparsely.

He thought for a full hour and a half, yet felt neither hungry nor thirsty, nor at all tired. After the rain, the sky cleared, the setting sun still shone, and birds landed on the branches in the nearby garden, their feathers still wet, occasionally flapping their wings.

After the rain, the grass was green, and the flowers and plants were dotted with fallen petals. Sean Foster stood up.

Family inheritance: James Foster owned a limited company with over eighty percent of the shares, with a scale of about two hundred million, which was quite a bit of money. This could be seen from the small villa he lived in—two floors, totaling 280 square meters, worth about five million. All of this was normal.

“Jade Ruyi!”

Immediately, a jade ruyi about an inch long fell into his hand. The jade ruyi was densely engraved with mysterious characters, but inside, it had almost lost its luster, clearly having exhausted its energy.

After Nathan Thompson died, there was no consciousness at all. It seemed that after a sleep, he had become Sean Foster.

How he had taken over Sean Foster's body, he had no idea, but it didn't matter. As long as he was alive now, that was enough.

“Nathan Thompson is already dead. I am now Sean Foster.” Sean Foster finished the last sip of juice and said softly. After speaking, he stroked the jade ruyi.

In fact, he fully possessed Sean Foster's emotions and memories. To call him Sean Foster was not an exaggeration.

He sighed, put away the jade ruyi, and left the house.

A small skateboard was Sean Foster's favorite. He sped along the smooth pavement. This neighborhood was basically home to well-off middle-class families, with a nice environment. As he passed the entrance, he caught sight of the security guard out of the corner of his eye, and Sean Foster nodded politely.

The security guard was a man in his forties. He smiled, “Going out to find some food?”

Sean Foster wasn't very good at cooking for himself, so every day he went out to find food, having explored all the nearby streets.

“Uncle Bolton, I'll bring you a chicken leg!” This man’s surname was Zhang. From Sean Foster's memories, he was quite interesting and they had a good relationship, but there was no need to think too much about it for now. He smiled and said this, then walked out onto the street.

There were green belts on both sides of the street, trees providing shade, buildings and winding paths arranged in an orderly fashion, with gardens here and there. People came and went. Looking at this scene, both incredibly familiar and incredibly strange and lively, Sean Foster suddenly felt so sad he could hardly breathe. An indescribable sorrow welled up, making it hard for him to calm down for a long time.

It was a kind of loneliness in a foreign land that was hard to put into words, as if he were the only person between heaven and earth.

This feeling was unbearable. Sean Foster couldn't help but walk to a place he used to know well and entered—a shop, a very familiar toy store.

But all the toys inside were plush dolls.

A young girl stood in the shop, smiling and waving, “Sean Foster, you’re here!”