Transmigrated into a Grandpa, Embracing the Laid-Back Life

Chapter 1: Reincarnated as a Ghost?

In this boundless, lightless stillness, Lin Yu’s consciousness had drifted for nearly five hundred years. Should he make that choice? The thought, like a cluster of faint flame, flickered in the endless darkness.

Memories surged and dragged him back to the moment he first arrived in this realm.

Back then, he was nothing but a lone wisp of a soul, exposed naked under a hostile sun. Sunshine was no longer warmth but a scorching poison that burned spirit, every ray bringing tearing agony, his soul-body on the verge of dissipating. In the brink-of-collapse despair, he fled frantically on instinct, and smashed into a place that felt safe.

His consciousness sank into it: a tiny storage world, scattered with jars and objects. His taut nerves suddenly relaxed, and the endless black swallowed him, plunging his awareness into total interruption.

He woke slowly after an unknown span of time.

Still groggy, a fragment of nightmare clung to him—the tattered battle banner whipping in a fierce wind, the battlefield strewn with corpses like spilled ink. A blood-soaked Taoist in cyan robes, face contorted, eyes burning with resolve and madness.

He clutched an archaic ring tight, then shoved it violently into his cracked chest, his scream seeming to pierce time: “Seal this demonic artifact with my soul! Let it sink for ten thousand generations!”

A hangover-like headache made Lin Yu reach out habitually for the phone on his bedside to check the time.

His fingertips touched nothing but void and cold.

He shot his eyes open. There was no familiar ceiling, only unchanging gloom. He finally took in his surroundings: dozens of sealed pill bottles, a pile of strange ores, and several stacks of yellowed talismans scattered nearby.His brain crashed instantly. A second ago he had been in a brightly lit office, hunched over a computer screen, tearing his hair out over a client’s blueprints.

How did he end up here?

An absurd yet singular thought detonated in his mind: I... transmigrated?

The dead silence stretched on, until Lin Yu numbly accepted reality.

He had transmigrated.

pitch-black void, he could see everything

a living body granted to him—fate had treated him brutally. He roared in silence, questioning the

wrapped around his soul, like cold thorns that brought stinging pain. The source seemed to be this very ring. The cyan-robed Taoist’s

a ghost, helplessly observing. This space spat out and swallowed items at random—sometimes a razor-sharp sword, sometimes a pile of spirit-rich pills. They

and he could move freely within that

his soul would be reduced to ash, forcing him to retreat

could cling to the ring itself—neither leaving nor fully sealed off—so he could interact

him glimpse the outside world and hear external sounds,

A novel sense of control rose up, as

was like a Trojan horse virus: parasitic in the ring, yet possessing independent will, completely free

Yu muttered quietly. At the same time he clearly “saw” deep within the ring’s inner wall the invisible shackles of thorn-like restraints

face flickered in the

his muddled “ring life,” he realized with a start: damn, this remnant soul of his had drifted here for almost sixty years plus

centuries, the ring had changed hands no

owner made

Because he knew all too well the nature of cultivators who held precious treasures. Possessiveness? It was embedded in their bones. A ring with

like finding an unexploded bomb

their first reaction would be ninety-nine to one—silence him! Or worse, drag him out to be used as

part of the ring, making himself thinner than air, quieter than stone. He watched coldly as six

ear, thinking he had discovered an ancient treasure. The next day, while showing off at the market, a jealous wandering cultivator smacked him in the back of the head with a club. Before the treasure had

restraint around Lin Yu’s soul trembled, and a cold breath was sucked away. He stared at the inner wall and saw a very subtle, dark-red

down-and-out wandering cultivator who treated the ring like a lifeline, muttering to it daily, praying for an old master to teach him divine arts. One stormy night after a training mishap, he fell into a

soul: “This host’s mental fortitude is no good, too dependent on objects, dies too easily.” As the

it into a smelting furnace to try to melt it. The furnace went out of control, exploding so that both person and furnace were left only half a

the moment the flames consumed her, the third blood streak surfaced. The thorny seal seemed to draw sustenance, tightening

was a self-styled righteous old scholar who tried every purification charm to cleanse the “evil spirit” in the ring, driving Lin Yu to distraction. While studying an ancient evil formation, he inadvertently triggered