The Nine Revolutions Reincarnation Art!

Xia Chen’s two Double Color Ball tickets won him three hundred yuan.

That was rare good luck.

So Xia Chen decided to buy two fish to reward himself.

“Xiao Chen!”

In the winding alleys of Zhijiang City’s old district.

In the neighborhood known as “Dead Waiting Street,” an old man sitting on a bamboo chair and fanning himself with a badminton racket called out to the passing boy.

The boy was about one meter seventy-eight tall, though he did not look particularly imposing.

He slouched slightly, and his long bangs nearly covered his delicate brows and eyes.

Xia Chen turned his head and looked at the old man on the bamboo chair.

“Grandpa Lin, why are you using a badminton racket as a fan?”

Grandpa Lin waved the racket in his hand.

“Aiya, Xiao Chen, I was playing badminton with Auntie Liu.

I hit the shuttlecock into the tree, and now I can’t get it down.

Can you think of a way?”

Xia Chen stood beneath the tree and looked upward.

At the very top branch, a shuttlecock was wedged there.

Sunlight poured through the gaps in the leaves, scattering across the veins of the branches.

The boy turned back and looked at Grandpa Lin.

“You’re overthinking it.

It’s that high.

What am I supposed to do, grow wings?

And really, Grandpa Lin, your habit of losing control whenever you see Auntie Liu should be fixed.

Usually you can’t even sweep the yard with this much strength.

After two strokes you’re already sitting down panting.

You’re telling me you hit it up there?”

After being teased by Xia Chen, Grandpa Lin blushed a little.

He stood up, shook the racket in his hand, and sighed.

“You young kids wouldn’t understand the joys of adulthood…

Forget it, I’ll just buy another one.

Ah… nothing is more beautiful than the sunset years…”

Humming as he sang, the old man leisurely carried the racket and walked back into the courtyard.

Leaving behind a young man facing a towering tree swaying gently in the summer breeze.

The bangs over Xia Chen’s forehead were blown messily by the passing summer wind.

He glanced around briefly.

It was a quiet afternoon.

In the deserted old district, hardly anyone was nearby to notice.

So he suddenly bent his body low.

He already looked slightly hunched, but now he resembled a shrimp curling inward.

Then—

Whoosh!

He leaped upward.

That was the simplest way to describe it.

Xia Chen’s body became a blur, like an illusion from a movie, yet it happened here in reality.

Under the mottled sunlight reflecting rainbow-colored rays, the boy landed atop the branch.

The branch only swayed lightly.

His toes touched the wood without snapping it at all.

Then he bent down and picked up the shuttlecock.

And leaped back down again.

He landed in the open space below.

“Hoo…”

The wind passed through the treetops.

The branches continued swaying as if nothing had happened.

As if no boy had just jumped over three meters high.

As if no one had landed without making a sound.

Holding the shuttlecock, Xia Chen looked into the courtyard and casually shouted.

“Grandpa Lin!

The shuttlecock fell down.

Go find Auntie Liu!”

After saying that, he tossed the shuttlecock into the yard.

Then he resumed his slight hunch and continued walking deeper into the old district.

Thunk!

Inside the courtyard, the old man was boiling water over a coal stove when something suddenly struck his head and dropped downward.

By terrible luck, it landed directly into the kettle.

Grandpa Lin stared blankly at the shuttlecock floating in the boiling water.

Then he craned his neck upward, face flushed red.

“XIA CHEN!!

Try throwing a little more accurately next time!!”

Xia Chen.

Across the vast history of this world, that name had appeared in many forms.

It had also become many different identities.

For Xia Chen himself, it was something rather helpless.

Some things had happened so long ago they now existed only as broken memory fragments.

He had to carefully search and guide himself just to uncover traces of them.

Returning to his hundred-square-meter courtyard home, Xia Chen lazily lay down on a bamboo chair.

He watched the clouds drifting quietly across the sky.

This kind of idle life could no longer be called boring or not boring.

After all, no matter how dull the years were, Xia Chen had always passed them leisurely.

As someone who had reincarnated who knew how many times, remembering only fragments of memory yet unable to connect them properly, Xia Chen felt such experiences were nothing special.

This world already had supernatural powers.

So what was one reincarnator like him worth?

Nothing at all.

It was only that one cultivation technique he still remembered and had continued practicing all this time seemed, after this rebirth, to have finally taken shape completely.

It was gradually becoming something tangible inside his body.

And it was also the chief culprit behind the many mistakes he had committed through countless reincarnations.

“No wonder it’s called the Nine Revolutions Reincarnation Art.

What a ridiculous thing…”

Xia Chen tried to treat those blurry, fragmented memories as lightly as possible.

The body of a young man.

The appearance of a young man.

A dirt-poor family background.

Xia Chen felt this kind of life was boring yet fulfilling.

He did not know at what point he would vanish from this world.

But it seemed…

He had now obtained something he had dreamed of long ago.

He seemed like he could live for a very long time.

A true scourge lives a thousand years.

Just as Xia Chen was thinking these pointless thoughts—

“Is this Xia Chen’s house?!”