Li Wen woke up warm.
That was the first sign something was wrong.
He had gone to sleep feeling like shattered glass held together by regret.
Every breath had stabbed. Every blink had burned.
But now…
His body felt light.
Pain-free.
Almost… comfortable.
Which was suspicious.
His eyes shot open.
The ceiling was white.
Perfectly white.
Not the yellow-stained, cracked ceiling he had memorized from years of staring at it, trying not to cry too loudly.
Li Wen sat up so fast he nearly fell off the bed.
**This wasn't his room.**
His room had a single flickering bulb, walls that smelled like damp socks, and the distant sound of someone screaming two floors below.
This room?
Bright.
Clean.
Modern.
Like the kind of place rich kids in dramas used to complain about.
He swallowed hard.
"…W-Where am I?"
His voice didn't sound right.
It was too smooth, too clear.
Like someone had replaced his vocal cords while he slept.
He pressed a hand to his throat—
—and froze.
His hand wasn't… his.
Slim fingers.
Defined tendons.
No swelling.
No bruises.
No scars from years of school desks and fists.
He stared at his palm.
Then both palms.
Then both arms.
Then the rest of his body.
"…What the—"
He leapt out of the bed and stumbled toward a full-body mirror across the room.
The reflection staring back at him—
**—was not Li Wen.**
Or rather, it was Li Wen like he'd been drawn by a deity who specialized in making people dangerously attractive.
Sharper jawline.
Straight nose.
Unblemished skin.
A perfectly formed physique—not bulky, not thin, just the exact balance that made clothing look illegal.
Li Wen blinked once.
Twice.
Three times.
He slapped his own face.
It hurt.
He slapped again.
Still hurt.
"Okay," he whispered, "so I didn't die. I didn't reincarnate. I didn't hallucinate. I didn't sell my soul…"
He touched his abs.
"…I mean… probably."
---
### **The Apartment**
He walked through the apartment like a burglar auditioning badly for the role.
Everything was high-end.
The kitchen counters were marble.
The living room was spotless.
The air smelled faintly of expensive wood polish instead of mold and leaking pipes.
On the table was a school uniform:
crisp, clean, and definitely belonging to a private academy.
Li Wen felt his throat tighten.
**This wasn't a dream.**
Because if it were a dream, he definitely wouldn't make the uniform look this good.
His new body didn't just wear clothes—
it *performed* them.
---
### **"But… what about my real body?"**
The question hit him like a punch he actually didn't feel for once.
His real body.
His bruised, broken, familiar body.
He panicked.
Did this body replace his real one?
Was his original body dead?
Was he in some kind of weird coma?
Did someone kidnap him?
Then his stomach growled, deeply and powerfully, like a lion claiming territory.
"Great," he muttered, "at least starvation still works the same."
He searched for food.
The fridge was full—actual food.
Not leftovers, not instant noodles, not that single expired carton of milk he kept forgetting to throw out.
He stared at the eggs and bread like they were holy relics.
"I shouldn't eat this," he whispered…
…and ate it anyway.
---
### **The Alarm**
A phone on the counter buzzed.
The screen lit up:
**7:10 AM — CLASS STARTS AT 8:00**
Li Wen choked.
"Class? In THIS body??"
He grabbed the uniform and threw it on, terrified he'd wake up from this miracle.
He ran to the door.
He opened it.
He stepped out—
—
—
—
**And far across the city…**
On a dirty mattress inside a cramped, collapsing apartment…
His original body suddenly inhaled sharply.
Its breathing was ragged.
Eyes still closed.
Chest rising with difficulty.
Unaware.
Unaware of the perfect body now living a morning it never had.
And unaware of a third heartbeat, faint and unnatural, pulsing in a distant basement…
---
## ⭐ Chapter 1 Complete