Lord of the Lands

A somber atmosphere enveloped the grand and majestic house. A human body lay stiff on the bed, wept over by many.

“My son… Hic... hic...” sobbed a beautiful woman with thick eyebrows, round eyes, and fluttering eyelashes. Her red lips curled into a sly smile.

An elderly man bowed his head, gazing at the lifeless body of his pride and joy. No parent ever wishes to see their child die before them. They only wish to witness their child’s accomplishments and receive honor in return before passing on.

The wailing of everyone around echoed softly, like a chant to send the soul of the deceased to its final destination.

Outside the house, his classmates arrived to pay their respects—to confirm the truth about their friend’s death.

Among the attendees, a few silently rejoiced, pleased to see the school troublemaker finally lying in a coffin, carried by four men into an ambulance.

“No more chaos at school now. This is great.” one student thought.

And who knows what thoughts filled the hearts of the others?

No one expected Wu Xiaoshi to die so suddenly—just from choking on grass jelly in his drink.

In another realm, a soul drifted midair…

“What happened to my body? Why am I like this? Half-existence? Am I really dead? But from what?” Wu Xiaoshi muttered, asking questions no one answered. He was all alone.

“Hello? Is there really no one here?” he repeated, growing frustrated. “Damn it! What kind of joke is this? I know I made mistakes in life, but do you really have to toy with me like this?” he said, scanning the area, hoping to find a speck of light that might guide him home.

“I will give you a second life—but with one condition!” said a voice. It was loud, but the speaker remained unseen.

“Hey, who are you?” Wu Xiaoshi asked, alert and ready to fight. As a provincial martial arts champion, he was confident he could handle anyone—if only they’d show themselves.

“I am the god who pulled your soul from that worthless body,” the voice replied. A heavy aura accompanied the words, and Wu Xiaoshi felt a pressure crash down on him, sending him into a seemingly endless fall.

“You must become a good person—and I want you to become a ruler in another world. But to rise to power, you must first start from the bottom. So, what do you choose? Death or life in a new world?”

“If I can choose, then I want to return to a life of luxury, wealth, and women,” Wu Xiaoshi replied, smirking.

“That’s not an option. I’m asking you—life or death!” the voice shouted in frustration.

Wu Xiaoshi’s fall abruptly stopped—though he never hit the ground.

“There’s no harm in living until the end, even if I can no longer enjoy the world that once offered so much pleasure,” the god, Zhang Miran, said calmly.

“I choose life! But I have conditions too!” Wu Xiaoshi declared.

“What are they?” the god asked.

“First, I want to see my original body on Earth. Second, I want a cultivation power system. Third, I want a star-level cultivation manual like the ones I saw in Chinese fantasy movies.”

“The first and third, I can grant. As for the second, I don’t know of such a system,” Zhang Miran replied, glancing sideways at Wu Xiaoshi with his divine eye.

“Alright, I won’t push it,” Wu Xiaoshi sighed in defeat.

Suddenly, the veil around them vanished, and Wu Xiaoshi saw his own coffin being carried away. His heart sank.

Swush!

A soul floated between heaven and earth. It was Wu Xiaoshi’s, and he was shown the pitiful cause of his death—choking on grass jelly. Nothing glorious about it.

His glorious days of flirting with girls—gone. Worse, he might be forgotten entirely.

As a school gangster, he had hoped to die honorably—so he could brag about it in the afterlife.

After the funeral, he was shown the betrayal in his own house. His stepmother had poisoned his cappuccino.

“That’s how you died,” said Zhang Miran, waving his hand to dissolve the vision. “Are you ready for your new life?”

“May I ask something first?”

Zhang Miran nodded.

“Will I enter the body of a trash youth or will my body be rebuilt to match that world?”

“You’ll inhabit the body of another person—also poisoned by his stepmother,” Zhang Miran answered. “Any other questions?”

“No. At least I know how he died,” Wu Xiaoshi said.

“You may take his memories, if you want.”

“Fine. Give them to me.”

Swush! His soul traveled across time and space…

His eyes snapped open. His hand reached up and rubbed them. He wiped his eyes, though there were no tears—only the sensation of them.

He found himself wedged between thick tree trunks. Wu Xiaoshi tried to move his aching body. Once able, he sat up and repositioned himself. Without the trees, he would’ve fallen onto sharp rocks below.

Suddenly, memories poured in. Thankfully, he had grabbed the tree and held on tightly—because the pain was excruciating. He screamed so loudly, birds fled in terror.

The pain passed within a few breaths—but felt like years.

A wolf’s howl echoed nearby. Three young wolves approached, ready to pounce at his dangling clothes.

Wu Xiaoshi quickly pulled up his robes.

“Damn! My scream attracted them. If the mother comes, I’m done. What should I do? I need overwhelming strength to survive in this world—but I know nothing about the powers that crazy god gave me,” he muttered, climbing higher like a caterpillar on a branch.

Grrrr! Three massive wolves arrived, drooling, eyes locked on him. One leaped high—

And what would happen next?