“Ding—”

“Congratulations! You’ve achieved the rare Life Achievement: Dying Simultaneously with Your Parallel World Self!”

“…Simultaneous death? How is that supposed to be an achievement?”

Luo Yu had just regained consciousness when he heard a cheerful young female voice congratulating him—for something absurdly ridiculous.

He instinctively tried to respond, but couldn’t hear his own voice.

Struggling, he managed to lift his heavy eyelids.

All he could see was a void—a cold, dark expanse stretching endlessly before him.

The darkness wasn’t still; it flowed like a river, a river of swirling black mist moving steadily toward a distant unknown.

Luo Yu looked down instinctively, but his body was nowhere to be seen. Instead, he noticed some pale, glowing words stuck to the ground like a swamp.

The text was exactly what he’d just heard.

Below it were two options:

[A. Claim Achievement Reward]

[B. Decline Achievement Reward]

Oh, right. He’d achieved a “simultaneous death” milestone.

Since he was already dead, there was no reason to pass up a reward.

Though he couldn’t see his body, Luo Yu still felt its presence. He blinked and lifted a foot to tap on the option.

Tap-tap.

“Ding—”

The cheerful female voice rang out again, totally at odds with the eerie atmosphere—

[Reward Claimed Successfully!]

[Reward Name: Soul Exchange, Rebirth!]

[Reward Description: The recipient of this reward can exchange souls with their parallel-world self who died simultaneously. The deceased body will be reborn, and both individuals will get a second chance at life!]

[Would you like to use the reward now?]

Luo Yu wasn’t sure if he still had a heart, but in that instant, he felt a surge like fireworks exploding inside him!

He could live again?

He distinctly remembered dying. He’d been pulling an all-nighter in the study room, writing his final paper, so exhausted his soul practically floated out of the classroom—only to be crushed instantly by someone who jumped from the top floor, sending his actual soul flying off for real.

A death so absurd it left him speechless, without even the will to complain!

That handsome face he’d had all his life was probably smashed beyond recognition when he died—if he could really come back, it would be a medical miracle.

With that thought, Luo Yu sighed in frustration and chose [Yes].

Suddenly, an intense drumbeat echoed in the gloomy darkness around him!

Luo Yu took a cautious step back.

New text appeared, accompanied by a voice as thrilling as the drumbeats—

[Traveler, before officially exchanging souls, I must inform you of something: soul transfer is no easy feat!]

[A century ago, when mature souls first tried inhabiting unfamiliar bodies, rejection rates were as high as 99%!]

[But after years of tireless research by the Parallel World Administration, the ideal solution has been found.]

[Salute to the entire Administration team!]

“Thank you, thank you,” Luo Yu said to himself, clapping along with the drumbeats.

[You’re welcome.]

[However, the solution requires the cooperation of the traveler to succeed.]

“I’ll cooperate fully,” Luo Yu promised, nodding sincerely.

[For the first 100 days after the transfer, you must perform a daily ‘soul-body alignment task’ to ensure full integration with your new body!]

[Studies show the best results come from repeating one of the following tasks—]

Several options appeared before Luo Yu:

[A. Run 10 kilometers every day]

[B. Do 1,000 frog jumps every day]

[C. Swim 1,000 meters every day]

[D. Sleep for 90 minutes every day]

[Traveler, choose carefully the task you’re willing to repeat for 100 days—]

Pfft.

Would choosing any of the first three be any different from being dead?

Without hesitation, Luo Yu selected the fourth option.

[Ah, are you certain?]

For some reason, the voice hesitated for the first time.

What was there to hesitate about? Luo Yu quickly confirmed his choice.

[Ding—]

[Task successfully chosen!]

[Following a 24-hour human schedule, you must sleep 90 minutes every day for 100 days after transfer.]

[Successfully completing the task will secure your new life; failure will result in dying again as you did in the original world, with no further revival.]

Crushed to death again? That was harsh.

Luo Yu clicked his tongue.

But come on, it’s just sleeping—no way to fail that.

[Traveler, you’ve courageously taken on the most challenging task, and your bravery moves the entire Administration team!]

Luo Yu: ?

He squinted at the text.

The most challenging?

Sleeping 90 minutes a day—how hard could that be?

Other than the one time he pulled an all-nighter for a paper and paid the price, he’d consistently slept 8 hours every night for 20 years!

[Special Item Awarded: Portable Space]

[Each day you complete your sleep task, you’ll earn a chance to draw a helpful item from your space.]

[The Portable Space manager is always at your service.]

Luo Yu chuckled.

“Thanks, but who needs a tool to sleep?”

He’d never taken more than five minutes to fall asleep in his life.

[Rewards and items distributed, initiating soul transfer. Good luck—]

Even as consciousness faded, Luo Yu felt brimming with confidence.

…

“Clatter—”

A middle-aged man in a lab coat, his face mostly hidden by a surgical mask and cap, stared coldly down the hallway as he wheeled a bed covered by a white sheet to a secluded white door at the end of the corridor.

He stopped, knocked twice on the door.

With a snap, the door opened, revealing a young woman also masked.

“Arrange for the funeral home to collect the body immediately, and cremate it right away, as usual.”

“Yes, Dr. Duan.” The woman nodded, reaching to pull the wheeled bed into the room.

But the “body” on the bed suddenly threw off the sheet and sat up!

“Aah! Ghost!” The woman screamed, stumbling back and pushing the bed out of the room, slamming the door shut behind her.

Luo Yu clung to the bedrail, keeping himself from falling, and looked up to see the sign: “Morgue.”

That was close!

Five minutes ago, he’d woken up in this parallel world body, only to find a white sheet over his head.

He’d planned to listen quietly to assess his surroundings.

But he’d almost been cremated instead.

“How can you be alive?!”

Luo Yu turned and met the horrified gaze of the doctor who’d pushed him here: “You were definitely dead!”

Sitting on the bed, Luo Yu’s face, which should have been pale and lifeless, looked unusually lively, as if he’d just woken from a refreshing sleep.

He batted his eyes and smiled, a bit shyly.

“Oh, Doctor, I thought I was dead too! But somehow, I’m alive! It must be your incredible medical skills—bringing people back to life with such mastery!”

Flattery always helps.

Luo Yu thought the doctor would celebrate this miracle.

Instead, the doctor eyed him warily, then reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a scalpel!

The light above glinted off the blade, making Luo Yu’s heart skip a beat.

He jumped off the bed, backing away quickly.

Dr. Duan advanced, his initial shock replaced by a chilling resolve.

This wasn’t looking good.

Without time to think, Luo Yu clutched his head and started running, groaning in distress as he ran:

“Doctor, my head hurts! I don’t remember anything! What kind of illness do I have? Why am I in the hospital?”

He sprinted to the end of the corridor, only to find the passageway blocked by a heavy metal door.

He tried the handle, but it wouldn’t budge.

The door was locked—no way out!

Behind him, the doctor suddenly stopped and asked, “You really don’t remember?”

“Not a single thing!” Luo Yu turned around, pressing himself against the wall and slowly sliding down until he was crouching, hands on his head in an utterly pitiful pose.

“Oh, kind doctor, please put down the knife and focus on helping me, won’t you?”

“I’ll do anything if you can help me regain my memory.”

If he didn’t act desperate now, he’d be in serious trouble.

Luo Yu sniffled, forcing a tearful expression as his lashes fluttered like butterfly wings. In no time, his eyes turned red, and a single tear slipped down his cheek, tracing a glistening path down his neck.

The doctor paused about a meter away, watching him skeptically.

From the other rooms in the corridor, he could hear footsteps—people considering coming out, but stopping as they peered through the peepholes and saw the scene outside.

The doctor cautiously glanced around before reaching into his pocket and pulling out… an apple.

He used the scalpel to peel it with a snick, then said coolly, “Go into the room on your left. I’ll give you an examination.”

…A bit too dramatic to hide his intentions, wasn’t it?

Luo Yu eyed the apple warily, feeling as if it symbolized his own head.

But with no other options, he could only comply with the doctor’s instructions.

He took a deep breath, got up, and entered the room on the left, where he saw a machine for brain scans.

Luo Yu sat down before the machine, his eyes now clear and free of tears.

From the doctor’s eagerness to kill him, it seemed likely his death had something to do with the original self of this parallel world.

Calmly, Luo Yu pieced together what he could.

If it was a crime of passion or revenge, he wouldn’t stand a chance. Claiming memory loss was his way of testing the waters, and it seemed to have worked.

—The doctor’s murderous intent had visibly lessened when he mentioned amnesia.

In that case, it was likely the original self had discovered some deadly secret.

When Dr. Duan entered, Luo Yu immediately clutched his head in exaggerated pain.

The doctor, expressionless, activated the machine.

Five minutes later, he was staring at the screen, breathing heavily. “He’s really lost his memory?”

Noticing Luo Yu’s questioning look, he coughed and replied calmly:

“Patient Luo Yu, it appears you’ve suffered memory loss due to an unknown brain injury. I’m afraid the memories you’ve lost may never come back.”

Doctor, you’re wearing a mask, but I can tell you’re smiling.

While Luo Yu silently complained, he furrowed his brows and pouted, his face twisted with despair.

“How could I be so unlucky? How am I supposed to live like this?”

The doctor gave him a cheerful pat on the shoulder. “Don’t worry, I’ll explain your situation to your school counselor. I’m sure they’ll help you start over. Come on, I’ll take you out.”

Luo Yu sniffled and nodded, trailing behind the doctor as they left the room.

The doctor opened the heavy door at the end of the corridor.

Outside lay the hospital registration hall, where long lines formed in front of the registration counters, bustling with people.

Just like any hospital lobby, the air was filled with crying and yelling children, soothing parents, and people consulting with medical staff—a noisy, chaotic atmosphere.

The clamor washed away the lingering fear in Luo Yu’s heart from nearly facing death again.

Was that it? Had he just escaped a close call?

As he stepped through the metal door, he realized his palms were drenched in sweat.

For now, his priority was to return to his dorm and sleep.

He needed to complete today’s sleep task first, then figure out the current predicament of his “original self.”

With that in mind, Luo Yu glanced at the digital clock hanging on the wall in the lobby.

[AM 02:54].

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Lhaozi’s Note: Hello, this is your translator, Lhaozi, I hope you are well and in good health, I hope my translations give you comfort and happiness. Only read all my translations in Shanghai Fantasy website. Thankyou.