Chapter Two: The Hell Within My Mind

Qin Wu and Yang Yaxin exchanged bewildered glances—had Qin Yang truly knocked his head and lost his wits? What did he mean by "you've come back to life"? He had never died in the first place.

Yet Qin Yang was laughing with genuine delight, his clear, ringing laughter only deepening their confusion and concern. If they had really made him simple-minded with that accident, it would be a lifetime’s regret.

But the two of them could not begin to fathom what Qin Yang was doing.

His name was indeed Qin Yang, but he was not the first owner of this body. In his previous life, he had been nothing more than an ordinary wage-earner, an orphan who once bought a jade bead at an antique shop. Judging it a fake, he wore it casually as an ornament, never expecting that the bead would attract the attention of a gang of mysterious jewel thieves. In the end, when the thieves opened fire, Qin Yang was shot in the chest and died a violent death. Yet, at the moment of his death, he saw the jade bead on his chest flare with a flash of black light, pulling his consciousness from his body and shrouding it completely. The next time he regained awareness was just two nights ago, inside this unfamiliar body.

This body’s original owner was also named Qin Yang, but their lives could not have been more different. He was the only son of the richest man in the southeast, notorious for his misdeeds—gambling, street racing, keeping starlets as mistresses—there was nothing he hadn't done. The night before, while racing, he suddenly found his brakes failed, lost control, and crashed. At that very moment, the orphan Qin Yang’s soul entered his body.

It was as if fate had pitted the two Qin Yangs against each other, their souls now locked in combat within a single form. This inner struggle left him dazed and aimless; even when Qin Wu’s car struck him, neither soul registered it. But when Qin Wu’s snowball hit the back of his head, a violent burst of black light erupted from the commoner Qin Yang’s body, enveloping all consciousness. That was what made him faint. The black light fused the two souls into one, and deep within its glow, a palace appeared, looming indistinctly before vanishing without a trace.

“Where am I?” Qin Yang tried to sit up, but every nerve ached as if pierced by a thousand needles.

Yang Yaxin hurried to answer, “You’re in the hospital. The doctor said you collapsed from exhaustion. You shouldn’t move—you need to rest for a few days.”

“Exhaustion?” Qin Yang murmured in realization.

Now, he was both the second-generation heir and the orphan Qin Yang, fully aware of why his strength was depleted. He’d raced cars, then wandered aimlessly for two days and nights after the crash; shivering in the cold, he’d burned through every last reserve. He forced a wry smile. “Is this Jianghai City?”

“This is Haitian City,” Qin Wu leaned forward, pouting. “Don’t tell me you don’t even know where you are?”

“Haitian City?” Qin Yang managed a strained smile. Whether as orphan or heir, both were from Jianghai. Yet, after the crash, the privileged heir had wandered for two days all the way to Haitian.

“What time is it? What month?” he asked weakly.

“Hm? It’s December.”

Yang Yaxin found Qin Yang’s behavior increasingly odd, but was too polite to pry. “How do you feel now?”

“I’m alright… just starving.” Qin Yang glanced at his stomach. After wandering for two days, he was famished.

“I’ll go get you something to eat. Wait here,” Yang Yaxin said quickly.

Qin Wu had no intention of staying alone with Qin Yang. Hearing Yang Yaxin, she got up to follow. Left alone, Qin Yang settled into a more comfortable position, a satisfied smile playing at his lips. He could hardly believe it—after six months of death, he was alive again. It was real. Wonderful! Ha! I’ve finally come back to life. With the status of a spoiled heir, I can live as outrageously as I please—chase girls, finally lose my virginity—wait, this body’s already done that…

But his exultation didn’t last long. Suddenly, he noticed a black, ribbon-like strand drifting in the air, eerily unnatural.

“What on earth is that?”

Qin Yang was startled. It looked almost like a ribbon, but its insubstantial, flickering form seemed nothing like something real—yet he could see it clearly. Was it a ghost? But why would a ghost appear in daylight? He wanted to get up and take a closer look, but his weakness pinned him down. Worse still, the strange black ribbon was slowly floating toward him.

Swallowing hard, Qin Yang blew at it, hoping to disperse it. But when it came within half a meter of his body, his eyes suddenly blazed with a surge of inky black light, instantly swallowing the ribbon. The blackness flashed into his mind, dragging his consciousness deep within.

He found himself in a world as black as pitch.

Yet he could see everything clearly. Floating in the center of this world was a colossal black palace, radiating an aura of ominous strangeness. It hovered up and down, shifting in the darkness.

The black ribbon appeared again, slowly drifting into the palace. Instantly, the palace’s glow grew even deeper and more sinister. On the massive plaque above its doors, two enormous words were engraved: HELL.

“My god, what is this?” Qin Yang couldn’t believe his eyes.

Hell? Was this gigantic palace actually Hell? And why was it inside his mind?

“Hell fusion complete.”

“Host, would you like to extract the memories of the departed Gao Jinfai?”

A low voice echoed in his ears, making Qin Yang jump and glance around, but he saw nothing but darkness. Thinking he was hallucinating, he was about to look more closely at this strange Hell when the voice sounded again: “Host, would you like to extract Gao Jinfai’s memories?”

“Who are you?” Qin Yang nearly leapt up in fright, his voice trembling.

But no reply came—only an oppressive silence. Just as he was about to ask again, the deep voice repeated: “Would you like to extract the memories of the departed Gao Jinfai?”

“Extract,” Qin Yang blurted out instinctively.

A low hum filled his head. Suddenly, his mind was flooded with scenes, as if watching a film. New memories appeared from nowhere, the complete life of someone named Gao Jinfai—from birth to death, as clear as if they were his own.

“What on earth is happening?” Qin Yang was dumbfounded.

“Memory extraction complete. Ten soul points consumed.”

“It was because of that jade bead that I ended up in this body—could all this be the work of that bead?”

He quickly recalled the supernatural events surrounding his death, and gazed in shock at the eerie black palace of Hell looming in his mind.

Just then, the two characters for Hell on the plaque shot out a beam of black light, instantly enveloping his consciousness. He felt as if he’d been swallowed by a turbulent sea in a twelve-level storm, tossed helplessly by the waves. With a thunderous crash, he opened his eyes and found himself back in his body, just as Yang Yaxin and Qin Wu returned, pushing open the door.