He wandered about the stone chamber, found nothing of interest, and turned back to the man.
Suddenly he burst into laughter.
“What? You’ve been soaking in that lake for three years? No wonder you’re so sturdy yet light—you’ve been marinated! Hahaha!”
His laughter died quickly.
The man’s expression remained as cold as ever.
Realizing his joke had fallen flat, Chen Youzai coughed awkwardly.
The man continued, unperturbed. “State your wish. Whatever it is, I can grant it.”
Chen Youzai inwardly cursed himself for reading too many fairy tales as a child. Even his dreams were childish.
Still, seeing the man so solemn, he played along.
“I don’t really have any wishes. And even if I did, you couldn’t manage them.”
“Speak.”
Chen Youzai rolled his eyes. It’s only a dream. Might as well vent a little.
“I just want to look better. Not even breathtaking—just… decent enough that people can bear to look at me.”
The man exhaled slowly.
“That is indeed… difficult.”
Chen Youzai shot him a glare. Even in dreams, he was humiliating himself.
He stomped the ground again, trying to wake up.
Nothing happened.
The man went on calmly. “However, I am skilled in Soul Transference. I can move your soul into another’s body.”
Chen Youzai widened his eyes theatrically. “Whoa! You’re that powerful?”
The man nodded gravely.
Chen Youzai let out a dry laugh. Great. Even my dreams have lunatics now. A kind-hearted lunatic, but crazier than me.
“So what if I become handsome? It’d still be someone else’s body. And I couldn’t leave my mom. I’d have to meet everyone all over again. Dealing with these people is exhausting enough.”
The man did not grow angry. Instead, he explained patiently:
“It is not as you think. This technique is freely controlled. Take this silver coin. Whenever you wish to exchange, you may do so. You may also revert at will. If you do not wish others to enter your body, you may seal their soul, leaving only a base spirit within. Your body will remain stable.”
Chen Youzai’s eyes lit up.
That actually sounded fun.
He accepted the coin. It looked ordinary—no numbers engraved. He weighed it in his palm. Light. He bit it. Silver, perhaps.
Couldn’t it at least be gold? Even in dreams I’m poor. If it were gold, I could brag about it later.
As he sighed dramatically, the man patiently instructed him in its use. The steps were absurdly simple.
He only vaguely registered the warnings—chiefly that it must not be used frivolously for amusement.
Futile Devices Scans 
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