Chu Phàm struggled to blink. There was only a small window on the wall of the house, which was built from yellow mud and dry straw. A beam of light shone through the window, and white light also filtered in from the skylight on the roof.
The two beams of light converged, and dust motes shimmered slightly within them.
But most of the house was pitch black, so dark that nothing could be seen.
Chu Phàm still felt dizzy. He had been in this world for three days now, but he still couldn't make sense of the situation.
He only knew that the body's name was also Chu Phàm, and that its parents only went to work in the evenings. As for why he was lying in bed, he vaguely gathered from the couple that he had been injured.
His head.
Fortunately, Chu Phàm could claim that he had forgotten everything after first waking up. Otherwise, he would have no memories of his predecessor, and he truly wouldn't know what to say when facing the predecessor's parents.
To avoid suspicion, for the past three days, Chu Phàm hadn't even dared to speak much. In the evenings, he quietly listened to "his parents" talk. But unfortunately, the father, dressed like an old farmer, was a man of few words.
A few conversations between the parents.
However, Chu Phàm couldn't glean much useful information from it at the moment.
Chu Phàm tried to sit up. As he did, a pained expression crossed his face. He raised his left hand to cover his forehead, as if his head were being pricked by needles.
His hand was cold, and a wave of coolness spread from his forehead, which greatly alleviated the stinging pain.
After a while, the pain in his head was almost imperceptible.
Chu Phàm's hand moved from his forehead, touching his bald head, devoid of any hair, and gradually felt a finger-length scar at the back of his neck.
He couldn't see the scar, but he could feel it. It was larger than a strand of hair, yet so subtle that he wouldn't have noticed it without a careful touch.
How did he get injured?
Chu Phàm didn't know yet, but if not for the injury, his soul wouldn't have been able to enter this body. He should have died.
Chu Phàm lowered his hand and pulled back the dark yellow silk curtain in front of the bed. With the curtain drawn back, his vision became clearer. Through the dim light, he looked at the simple wooden furniture and frowned slightly.
This made Chu Phàm even more certain that he was in a relatively dilapidated environment. But the room was too dark. When he had been conscious at night, he had noticed his parents seemingly lighting oil lamps.
But Chu Phàm wasn't very sure. For the past few days, he had been lying in bed in a daze, his consciousness hazy. He rarely woke up during the day, most of the time only waking for a short while before falling back asleep.
Even today, he wasn't much better. Chu Phàm looked at the parts of the room where the light didn't reach; those areas were pitch black. His head began to feel numb.
He was afraid, as if something terrifying was watching him from the darkness, ready to suddenly lunge out and harm him.
This kind of fear was completely baseless. Chu Phàm let out a bitter laugh. He had a lifetime of regrets, but due to his profession, he had never been a coward. Yet, this body reacted in such a way. Could it be a side effect of his transmigration into this body?
Over the past three days, Chu Phàm had tried many times. As long as he quietly stared into the darkness of the room, he would experience this feeling.
Or perhaps it was due to the gloomy surroundings affecting his mood. Chu Phàm shook his head, not dwelling on it, and instead tried to stand up.
Chu Phàm's legs were a bit weak; it took him several attempts to stand up. He took a step forward, but almost fell to the ground before he could regain his balance and continue moving, walking unsteadily and swaying as if drunk.
By the time Chu Phàm stepped over the threshold of the inner room and reached the main door of the house, he was drenched in sweat.
Through the faint light, he gently pulled open the two wooden doors. They weren't locked and immediately swung open.
Dazzling light from outside suddenly streamed in. Chu Phàm squinted to adjust to the strong light.
The sky was clear blue, and there were rows of earth-yellow houses.
Also, there were sounds of roosters crowing and dogs barking.
In the bright light, Chu Phàm lowered his head and clearly saw the clothes he was wearing: a narrow, brown short jacket. In modern society, no matter how crude the craftsmanship, clothes wouldn't be *that* rough.
Chu Phàm was a bit tired from standing, so he simply sat down on the doorstep.
It was daytime now, and the village seemed a little quiet.
He sat for a full hour before a few people passed by the door.
Most of them wore brown short jackets and carried farming tools like hoes in their hands.
After seeing Chu Phàm, some looked blankly, while others simply smiled at him, and Chu Phàm smiled back.
But after those people left, Chu Phàm just sighed. Their clothes had confirmed a truth he had already suspected: he was no longer in the modern world, but in an ancient one.
But Chu Phàm wasn't overly worried. After his sister and grandmother died in his previous life, he had no more attachments in that world after getting his revenge. For him, leaving a world without any attachments wasn't a big deal.
But what dynasty was this?
Chu Phàm's historical knowledge was poor, making it difficult to determine.
What should he do next?
Chu Phàm thought for a moment, but his eyelids began to droop, and he felt tired again.
Chu Phàm leaned on the wooden door frame to stand up, then closed the door. The moment the door closed, it was like stepping from light into darkness. Staring into the darkness, a feeling made him tremble from the bottom of his heart.
His heart, too.
Chu Phàm tried his best to look towards the faint light, and that feeling subsided.
He lay back on the bed in the darkness, his gaze fixed on the white light from the skylight above. He wondered what fear truly was.
There was nothing in the darkness, so why did he feel afraid?
Chu Phàm, already tired, quickly fell into a deep sleep.
When he woke up, Chu Phàm took out the food his parents had prepared for him. It looked like a rice ball, but it was yellow, somewhat resembling corn.
His "parents" had said that morning they wouldn't be back for lunch today, telling Chu Phàm to wake up and eat by himself.
Chu Phàm ate the rice ball slowly. The grains in it had very small husks, making them difficult to swallow; he had to chew as much as possible to get it down.
The food wasn't tasty, but Chu Phàm didn't dislike it. When he was young, he had relied solely on his grandmother to support the family; they were very poor, and he occasionally went hungry. Since then, he had known the value of food and never dared to waste it as he grew up.
After eating, Chu Phàm felt much more energetic. He stood up, walked around a bit, and then opened the door, finding that it was already dusk. In the sky, the hazy clouds were dyed fiery red by the setting sun.
Chu Phàm stood watching for a moment. A few days prior, his parents had worked until late into the night before returning. He had closed the door, and as darkness enveloped the surroundings, he had abandoned the idea.
Finding an oil lamp, even if he found one, there were no fire extinguishing tools.
Now he couldn't do anything; he could only lie down and rest once more.
The room grew darker and darker, the light from the skylight almost imperceptible. The feeling of fear crept over him again. For a moment, Chu Phàm even felt his own unseen face was very pale.
He didn't dare open his eyes again; he kept them shut. Only with his eyes closed could he avoid such fear.
“Could this be nyctophobia?”
Chu Phàm frowned slightly, this thought surfacing in his mind. He had heard of this illness before; it was a type of mental disorder. He was afraid of the dark; whenever he was in a dark house, he would feel anxious, terrified, and even panic.
But he had never had such an illness before. Could it be due to the previous owner of this body?
But the mind should be governed by thought. This body was now his, and the previous owner was dead, so why did he still feel fear?
At this moment, he heard a faint click.
It was the sound of the wooden door being pushed open. Had they returned?