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.

this pitch-black void, he could see everything with

living body granted to him—fate had treated him brutally. He roared in silence, questioning the absurdity: why did

thorns that brought stinging pain. The source seemed to be this very ring. The cyan-robed Taoist’s dying scream lay

helplessly observing. This space spat out and swallowed items at random—sometimes a razor-sharp sword, sometimes a pile of spirit-rich pills. They appeared and vanished in an instant. After long observation he finally

lost all meaning there. After an unknowable interval, he found, to his astonishment, that his insubstantial “body” gradually solidified and he could move freely within that

sun, pain as if his soul would be reduced to ash, forcing him to retreat in humiliation. Those agonizing costs

idea flashed through Lin Yu’s mind: perhaps he could cling to the ring itself—neither leaving

his consciousness to the ring’s cold band. That risky move finally let him glimpse the outside world and hear

A novel sense of control rose up, as if invisible limbs had extended, and the storage space bowed to

Trojan horse virus: parasitic in the ring, yet possessing independent

Lin Yu muttered quietly. At the same time he clearly “saw” deep within the ring’s inner wall the invisible shackles of thorn-like restraints entwining the soul, seeming to coexist oddly

face flickered in the ghostlight of

drifted by like a flick of a finger. When Lin Yu finally recovered some clarity from his muddled “ring life,” he realized with a start: damn, this remnant

centuries, the ring had

owner made his soul-flame

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

it was like finding an unexploded

a malevolent power, their first reaction would be ninety-nine to one—silence him! Or worse,

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

to 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

the ring changed hands, the thorny 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 streak appear,

second owner was a scruffy, 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

good, too dependent on objects, dies too easily.” As

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

skipped: “That chick’s dangerous!” At the moment the flames consumed her, the third blood streak surfaced. The

ring, driving Lin Yu to distraction. While studying an ancient evil formation, he inadvertently triggered counterblow and was “purified” into a wisp of blue