Rebirth in a Different World

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"Where is this place?" In a daze, Fan Qiuming's mind gradually cleared.

"Take this, you bastard!"

Before he could react, Fan Qiuming was kicked out with a heavy blow.

"Hiss—" Clutching his stomach, Fan Qiuming was sent flying into a corner of the wall.

Only then did he realize that he had awakened again, but this did not seem to be his own body. Rather, it was the body of another frail person in this world. However, he was fully conscious and could control this body at will—so it wasn’t a case of two souls sharing one body.

Fan Qiuming quickly calmed down and studied the faces of the people before him. He didn’t know them, but suddenly, a flood of unfamiliar memories surged into his mind.

His name was Fan Qiuming, and the people in front of him were merely local street thugs. They had no particular grudge against him, but his father had provoked them years ago. No one remembered exactly what happened—it was nearly a decade ago, and Fan Qiuming was still a child then.

Normally, nothing would have happened; his father was said to be a soldier, so the bullies dared not trouble Fan Qiuming. But then one day, his father suddenly disappeared and had not returned for years. Occasionally, someone would bring money, claiming it was sent by his father. Somehow, word got out, and the thugs began to wait for him at his doorstep. They said if they couldn’t deal with his father, they’d settle the score with him instead.

From then on, they would ambush him every now and then. By now, he had lost count of how many beatings he’d endured.

He had called the police before, but it was always treated as an ordinary fight. At most, the perpetrators would be detained for a few weeks, only for him to suffer even worse beatings afterward.

Since then, he had almost resigned himself to his fate.

At this moment, the group gathered around. Their leader spoke up.

"Kid, do you know why we beat you? Maybe you don’t, so I’ll tell you now—it’s all because of your father. He ruined our source of income."

"Everyone says cutting off a man’s livelihood is like killing his parents. The only reason you’re still alive is that the law protects you. Hahaha..." The group burst into laughter.

"Scum," Fan Qiuming muttered, clutching his abdomen as he stood.

"What did you say?" The group was stunned by his words. "Say that again?"

"No matter how many times I repeat it, scum is still scum."

"You’re looking for death." With that, one of them swung a punch at Fan Qiuming’s temple.

Fan Qiuming caught the fist with his right hand and twisted it back. The attacker bent forward in pain, and Fan Qiuming drove his knee into the man's jaw, dislocating it. The man collapsed, unconscious.

"You dare fight back? Get him together—let’s kill this little bastard!"

Though Fan Qiuming’s current body was weak, he could temporarily compensate for his lack of strength with technique. But if he faced overwhelming force, skill alone would not be enough.

He released the first attacker’s wrist and kicked another thug in the chest, sending him stumbling back. Tilting his head slightly, Fan Qiuming dodged a punch, grabbed the attacker’s arm, and threw him over his shoulder, then stomped on the man’s shoulder, dislocating his arm.

Suddenly, Fan Qiuming was caught off guard by a flying kick and tumbled to the corner, rolling twice.

"You’ve got some fight in you, brat!"

He sprang to his feet, eyeing the three remaining thugs, his mind racing for a way out.

Fan Qiuming wanted to use his spiritual energy—but he had none left, not even the stamina to keep fighting. As the three closed in, his first thought was to run.

But where could he go?

At that moment, the wail of police sirens sounded in the distance, growing ever closer.

Someone had called the police when they saw Fan Qiuming being dragged here—now, the officers were finally arriving.

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"Damn it, it must’ve been that nosy little girl who called the police. We’ll deal with her later. Let’s grab those two and go!"

The leader, hearing the sirens, hurriedly beckoned his crew to retreat.

As the gang left, Fan Qiuming slumped to the ground.

"What kind of luck is this?" he muttered. "Just woke up and already got beaten up."

He glanced at the unfamiliar buildings around him, realizing this was not the same world he came from. The spiritual energy here was exceedingly thin.

"Where did all the spiritual energy go? Is this the end of the Age of Dharma? Or is this not my world at all?"

He was puzzled, but there was nothing he could do for now.

"Are you alright? I’ve already called the police—they’ll be here soon."

A sweet female voice drifted over.

Fan Qiuming looked up. The alley was dim, so he couldn’t see her clearly, but he could tell she was delicate and pretty.

"Thank you," he said, standing up to leave. "You should be careful—they might come looking for trouble with you."

Just as Fan Qiuming was about to walk away, a patrol car pulled up at the mouth of the alley.

"Who called the police?" an officer asked as he got out.

"Me!" the girl answered, raising her hand.

"What happened?"

"There was a fight here just now—he’s the victim. Five attackers, they’ve just run off," she said, describing the incident and the attackers’ appearances. The officer jotted everything down.

"It’s those same few troublemakers again—they’ve been involved in most of the recent incidents," the officer remarked.

After understanding the situation, the police went off in pursuit without asking Fan Qiuming to go to the station. They handled everything on the spot.

"Are you sure you’re alright? Can you move?" the girl asked repeatedly.

"I saw you fighting back just now—have you trained? My name’s Chen Xuemei. What’s yours? Where do you live?"

She bombarded him with questions, making Fan Qiuming wonder if she was registering residents.

"I’m fine. If there’s nothing else, I’ll head home now."

With that, he left, ignoring Chen Xuemei’s calls for him to stop.

"How rude," she pouted, watching him limp away.

Relying on the memories in his mind, Fan Qiuming made his way home. It was nothing more than a nondescript rented apartment—just two rooms, with a kitchen, bathroom, and living room.

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He opened the door to find a girl sitting on the sofa in the living room, a wheelchair placed beside her.

From his inherited memories, he knew this was his younger sister, Fan Qiulin. She had been paralyzed from the waist down since childhood and could only get around by wheelchair.

"You’re back?" she asked softly, her tone devoid of emotion, suggesting their relationship was not particularly close.

She looked up at his bruised face, a fleeting look of concern in her eyes, quickly masked, though Fan Qiuming noticed it.

He said nothing, merely studied her quietly—her delicate, willow-shaped brows, cherry lips, and large, watery eyes that held a touch of vulnerability, invoking a protective instinct. Her complexion was smooth as jade.

How could those girls caked in makeup compare to her natural beauty?

"It’s nine o’clock. I’m going to bed. Tomorrow is June seventh," Fan Qiulin said, struggling into her wheelchair and returning to her room.

"June seventh? The college entrance examination?" Fan Qiuming immediately realized—this was indeed an important day in this world.

He also knew that the siblings’ relationship was strained, but for her to mention this clearly held deeper meaning.

He didn’t dwell on it. Returning to his room, he lay on his bed, reflecting on the events that had just transpired.

What kind of place was this? It was nothing like his old world—just towering buildings and streams of cars everywhere, sights he had never seen before.

Still, from the original owner’s memories, he could piece together some useful information.

This world had many countries, and he now lived in Huaxia. There were no cultivators here, only ordinary people.

His mother had left shortly after his sister Fan Qiulin was born, divorcing his father. Fan Qiuming, as a child, blamed his sister for their parents’ divorce and ignored her, which soured their relationship. Still, it was not outright hatred; her disability meant he had to care for her, though they spoke little throughout the year.

His father raised them alone until twelve years ago, when he disappeared—said to be on a military assignment. He hadn’t been heard from since. Occasionally, some relatives would check in on them, but the last visit was two years ago.

Despite all this, Fan Qiuming had excelled and been admitted to the top university in Huaxia, Shenghua University, right in the city. Normally, he hid out at school, where those thugs dared not touch him.

"If this is the merged world, why has it turned out like this?"

"My Myriad Phenomena Pearl and Demon God’s Eye are gone, my storage ring is gone, my cultivation and physical strength are all gone."

Fan Qiuming was deeply frustrated. "If you’re giving me another chance, you could at least let me start with something. Last time, it took me fifteen hundred years to rise from an ordinary person to the peak—and that was with abundant spiritual energy!"

"This world is so devoid of spiritual energy, who knows how long it’ll take? But at least this body is free of the old hidden ailments."

"Even if I have to start over, I have experience—so it’s not impossible to make faster progress."

With that, he jumped out of bed and began to exercise.

"From today, I start anew—beginning with body training."

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