Yang Qingshan's Apartment, Night
He glanced back at his phone, lying face down on his bed. "Just a bit more," he told himself, unable to shake the need to see if the story would take a turn for the better. "Maybe it'll get better."
Yang Qingshan lay in bed, unable to sleep. His mind kept replaying the frustrating scenes from the novel. "If only I could teach that bitch Qin Yueling a lesson," he thought bitterly, closing his eyes in exasperation.
His thoughts raced, replaying the scenes he had just read. The helplessness of the male protagonist, Lin Qingshan, just by having the same name gnawed at him.
Yang's phone lay discarded on his chest, the screen still glowing faintly with the last page of the novel he had been binge-reading. He had been so engrossed in the story that he hadn't noticed the hours slipping by, the city outside transitioning from evening bustle to the quiet of night. Now, only the distant hum of traffic and the occasional siren pierced the stillness of his apartment.
Despite his anger, fatigue began to creep in. His eyelids grew heavy, and his thoughts started to blur. "If only I could show him how it's done..." he murmured, his voice trailing off as sleep finally began to claim him.
Just as Yang Qingshan drifted into the fringes of sleep, the glow from his phone intensified, casting an eerie light across the room. His eyes snapped open, but before he could react, a blinding light enveloped him. Yang Qingshan felt his body being pulled in different directions, twisted and turned by an unseen force.
"What the hell?" he shouted, but his voice was swallowed by the roaring energy surrounding him. The sensation was overwhelming—his body twisted and turned as if caught in a powerful vortex. He reached out, trying to grasp something, anything, to anchor himself, but it was futile.
His surroundings dissolved into a swirl of colors and lights. The familiar walls of his apartment vanished, replaced by a kaleidoscope of images flashing past him. He felt himself being sucked into a different dimension; the screen now felt like a portal to another world.
The journey was disorienting, his senses overwhelmed by the whirlwind of motion and light. He could see fragments of the novel's world—palaces, vast landscapes, and unfamiliar faces—all blending into a surreal vision of a world he had never seen before but with slight familiarity.
Then, with a final wrenching motion, everything went dark.
Dongzhou Dongqin Immortal Kingdom, Lin Qingshan's Palace
Yang Qingshan opened his eyes to find himself in a grand, unfamiliar palace. The air was thick with incense, and the walls were adorned with intricate symbols depicting scenes of ancient battles and mythical creatures. He looked around, bewildered.
"What the hell?" he muttered, looking down at his clothes. Gone were his pajama shorts and t-shirt, replaced by luxurious robes of deep purple and gold, embroidered with intricate patterns. He touched his face, feeling features that were not his own. His body felt different—stronger, imbued with a power he had never known before.
As he examined himself, he noticed a pendant hanging from his neck. It pulsed gently with a soft, warm light, filling him with a sense of comfort and ease. He remembered reading about such a mysterious artifact but couldn't recall the specifics.
"Prime Minister Lin Qingshan!" a voice called out. Yang turned to see a young woman in ornate armor bowing before him.
"What... what is this place?" he stammered, his heart racing.
"The Dongzhou Dongqin Immortal Kingdom, my lord. Are you feeling unwell?" the woman asked, concern etched on her face.
Dongzhou Dongqin? The realization hit him like a ton of bricks. He was in the world of the novel that he was reading before his transmigration and that too in the body of the character he despised the most.
"No," he said, steeling himself. "I'm fine. Just... give me a moment."
Yang Qingshan moved to a more secluded area, trying to process the enormity of what had happened. The changes in his surroundings, the strange sensation of inhabiting another body, and the sheer absurdity of the situation threatened to overwhelm him.
"This world is absurd," he thought, echoing his earlier sentiments about the novel.
Suddenly, a sharp pain pierced his head, causing him to stumble and clutch his temples. The pain was excruciating, unlike anything he had ever felt before. It felt as if his skull was being split open.
Images, sounds, and sensations flooded his mind in rapid succession. He saw Lin Qingshan's childhood, his rigorous training, and his rise to power as the Prime Minister of Dongzhou Dongqin. He felt the emotions Lin Qingshan had experienced—joy, sorrow, pride, and fear. He witnessed the pivotal moments of Lin Qingshan's life, from strategic victories to his battles.
The memories also included crucial information about cultivation techniques, the political landscape, and the intricate details of the kingdom's history. Yang Qingshan now understood the profound significance of the pendant around his neck and its hidden powers.
As the torrent of memories subsided, the pain gradually lessened. Yang Qingshan stood up slowly, his mind reeling from the influx of information. He felt an incredible sense of clarity and purpose. He was no longer just Yang Qingshan from Earth; he was now also Lin Qingshan, with all the knowledge and skills that entailed.
He took a deep breath, feeling a newfound strength coursing through his veins. He could sense the flow of his internal energy, understanding instinctively how to control and enhance it. The complexities of cultivation were now second nature to him.
"Prime Minister," the woman in armor spoke again, her voice pulling him back to the present. "The court is awaiting your presence. Shall I escort you?"
Yang Qingshan took a deep breath, straightening his unfamiliar robes. "Yes, lead the way,"
With the memories of Lin Qingshan integrated into his mind, Yang Qingshan felt more prepared than ever. He had the knowledge, the power, and the opportunity to change his fate and reshape this world.