Chapter two

Luo Feng's consciousness swam through a fog of confusion and pain. The last memory he had was of Zhang Hao's betrayal, the ritual, and the unbearable agony of his magic being torn from him. Then, darkness had claimed him.

Now, as he struggled to open his eyes, he felt an unfamiliar heaviness in his limbs. The bed beneath him was softer than the cold stone of the sacrificial chamber, and the air smelled faintly of medicinal herbs instead of incense. His fingers twitched, brushing against coarse blankets, and a wave of weakness rolled through him.

Slowly, Luo Feng forced his eyes open, blinking against the dim light filtering through paper-covered windows. The room was modest, with wooden beams overhead and simple furnishings. He tried to sit up, but his body refused to cooperate, every movement sending sharp pains through his frail frame.

'Where am I?'he thought, panic beginning to set in. He remembered the cursed tome that had been bound by his waist. Had it somehow saved him?

Summoning his strength, he managed to lift his head and look down at his body. What he saw filled him with shock. His once strong and imposing physique was gone, replaced by the thin, sickly frame of a boy. His skin was pale, his hands trembling with weakness. He took a deep breath, trying to steady himself, but even that felt like a monumental effort.

'This isn't my body'

The realization hit him hard. He was no longer Luo Feng, the feared practitioner of dark magic. He had been reborn, somehow, into the body of this frail boy. Desperation clawed at his chest as he struggled to understand what had happened. Memories began to surface—fragmented, confusing images that weren't his own. A kind face, a soft voice calling out a name… Chen Wei.

'Chen Wei'.The name echoed in his mind, bringing with it a flood of emotions and thoughts that didn't belong to him. He clutched his head, trying to sort through the chaos. His heart ached with a profound sadness, a longing for something he couldn't quite grasp.

The door creaked open, and a young girl burst into the room. Her eyes widened with relief and joy when she saw him awake.

"Chen Wei! You're awake!" she exclaimed, rushing to his bedside. "I was so worried!"

Luo Feng stared at her, bewildered. She was young, perhaps ten or eleven, with bright eyes and a hopeful smile. The sight of her stirred something deep within him, a mix of unfamiliar affection and protectiveness.

He opened his mouth to speak, but his voice came out weak and raspy and maybe different. "Who… are you?"

The girl's smile faltered, replaced by a look of concern. "It's me, Mei. Your sister. Don't you remember?"

He searched his borrowed memories, piecing together fragments of Chen Wei's life. Mei. His sister. The realization hit him like a physical blow. He was living Chen Wei's life now, bound by the same familial ties, the same struggles.

Trying to push through the fog of confusion, Luo Feng—or Chen Wei, as he had to think of himself now—forced a smile. "Of course, Mei. I… just had a strange dream."

Mei's eyes softened with relief. "I'm so glad you're okay. You've been so sick. But you'll get better now, I just know it!"

As Mei chatted on, her voice filled with optimism and hope, Chen Wei's mind raced. He had been given a second chance, a new life. But with it came the burden of weakness and the memories of a life that wasn't his. He knew he couldn't let the pain of his past and the betrayal he suffered define this new existence. He had to find a way to grow stronger, to reclaim the power he had lost, and perhaps, to exact the vengeance that still burned in his heart.

For now, he would endure. He would learn and adapt. And he would never forget who he truly was: Luo Feng, the one who would survive as a villain to the end.

But as he tried to relax into his new and so-called unbearable life, resigning himself to being a sickly weakling and unable to practice magic, something caught his eye. His breath hitched as he saw the tome lying nearby, the very same cursed tome he had carried with him.

He looked back up at Mei, his so-called sister, and attempted to lift his hands, feeling the strain in his weak muscles. "Can you help me up?" he asked in a soft voice that didn't sound like his own.

Her eyes widened in concern, and she quickly approached her brother. "Of course," she said, her tone gentle and caring. She struggled to support his frail body, her small hands trembling slightly as she helped him sit up. He could feel the effort it took her, and he grimaced at the sensation of his bones protesting the movement.

Once he was propped up and supported by several pillows, he took a moment to catch his breath, feeling the weakness that permeated every inch of his new form. Despite this, his eyes remained fixed on the tome. "Mei, can you hand me that big book?" he asked, nodding towards the tome.

Mei glanced over at the book and then back at him, a puzzled expression on her face. "I've never seen this before," she said, hesitating for a moment before picking it up and handing it to him. "But here you go."

Luo Feng took the tome from her, his hands trembling with both weakness and anticipation. He felt a familiar dark energy pulse through it, reassuring him that it was indeed the same cursed tome. As he held it, a flicker of hope ignited within him.

The tome had never shown any signs of power before. When he had stolen it from a cave in the dark forest, it had seemed nothing more than a small pocket book with strange, unreadable writings. He had kept it more out of curiosity than anything else, its mysterious language and odd aura compelling him to hold onto it. But now, in this new form and setting, it had transformed, appearing larger and radiating a palpable dark energy.

Mei brushed off the tome as if it were of no significance and gave him a reassuring smile. "I'll go get your medicine," she said, excusing herself from the room. "You need to rest and recover."

As she left, Luo Feng—now Chen Wei—was left alone with the tome. He stared at it, trying to comprehend the change. His fingers traced the cover, feeling the dark energy thrumming beneath his touch. The writings, once just strange symbols, seemed to pulse with a life of their own. He could feel the cursed spirit within the tome stirring, a reminder of the unknown power that lay within.

He didn't understand its full potential, but the transformation it had undergone gave him a glimmer of hope. Perhaps, in this new life, the tome would reveal its secrets to him. He clutched it tightly, determined to uncover whatever power it held. His new body was weak, but with the tome in his possession, maybe he had a chance to regain his strength and power or maybe not?