Chapter 1 A Madman Crosses the Wasteland, an Untouchable

Chapter 1: A Lunatic Transmigrates to the Wasteland as a Pariah

The dead of night. Pale violet moonlight streamed through the small window into the cramped room,

illuminating the yellowed window frame, the old desk, and the blood-soaked girl lying on the floor.

…

When Yu Xing awoke, the pungent scent of blood assaulted her nostrils. Her entire body ached, yet there was a perverse thrill, like the afterglow of a wild night. Struggling to lift her hand, she froze at the sight of the dense, crisscrossing wounds covering her arm. Had Dr. Zhang, while she slept, engaged in a night of twisted BDSM with her?

What now? Yu Xing fretted. If her other admirers saw these marks, they’d surely go berserk.

It wasn’t until she painstakingly managed to sit up that she realized, with a jolt, this wasn't the psychiatric hospital, nor was it the ward she had lived in for five years.

Gazing at the intertwined purple and silver moons outside the window, Yu Xing’s mind completely seized up. Had her mental illness deteriorated to such an extent?

Her first instinct was to fish out the cigarettes she had swiped from Dr. Li yesterday to calm herself. As she lowered her gaze, a translucent pink panel materialized before her eyes.

At the very top of the panel, several large characters glowed:

【Transmigrator Trade Forum】

By now, Yu Xing had composed herself. If she could see two moons, then nothing else, no matter how outlandish, would surprise her. So she calmly scrutinized the panel, even managing to decipher the text.

It appeared to be a forum, its homepage filled with peculiar threads.

The first thread read: 【Help! I Qi Deviated During Cultivation and Slept with the Immortal Venerable—What Do I Do?】

Heh. Yu Xing scoffed inwardly. Clearly, her mental illness had worsened again.

She clicked on the post with detached curiosity. The first two replies immediately caught her eye:

[Little Li from the Magic World: OP, are you male or female?]

[Jiahao of Spiritual Resurgence: Is the Immortal Venerable male or female?]

Lunatics! Yu Xing cursed under her breath. What sane person would focus on such questions?

She exited the thread and moved to the next one.

【I Think My Disciple Is Looking at Me Strangely】

Clicking into it, she felt her delusions intensify, for the top two comments were eerily familiar.

[Little Li from the Magic World: OP, are you male or female?]

[Jiahao of Spiritual Resurgence: Is the disciple male or female?]

“…” Yu Xing hastily backed out. She no longer dared to click into any threads at random.

Continuing to scroll, the following posts appeared in succession: 【Elves Are Just Too Beautiful!!】

【Long-Term Buyer of Various Exotic Beasts】

【Seeking Atomic Bomb Blueprints】

【I Think I Might Be Dying】

…

At this point, Yu Xing raised a hand to cover her face. Was there any hope for a mental illness this severe? Could she still happily play her games with Dr. Zhang, Dr. Li, and Nurse Zhao?

Just then, she noticed a red post pinned to the very top.

【Newcomer Guide】

She clicked in. The content was lengthy.

[One: If you are reading this, do not panic. Try to calm yourself down, then continue reading.

Two: You have transmigrated.

Three: Do not doubt it—everyone in this forum is a transmigrator, though from different worlds.

Four: Your first task now is to ascertain your current identity, your environment, and the nature of the world you are in. (For example, if it’s a soul transmigration, close your eyes and try to access the original host’s memories…)

Five: By now, you should have a general understanding of your situation. Please exit this post, click on "Personal Center" in the top right corner of the forum, and review and complete your personal information.

Six: You can now post. Go ahead and say hello to everyone.]

Yu Xing’s first thought was: If this was all a hallucination, at least it was remarkably coherent.

And the content of this post was quite interesting; perhaps she should try following its instructions.

So she stood up and began to survey her surroundings. It was then that she discovered the source of the persistent, cloying scent of blood. All around her, on the old floor, walls, and ceiling, were bizarre patterns and lines drawn in blood.

Yu Xing pondered for a moment, then climbed onto the desk and crouched down to look. On the floor, she saw a massive design resembling a magic circle from a movie. Only, the pattern before her was far more complex, more… strangely beautiful than anything she’d seen on screen.

In her pocket, she found a razor blade, still stained with blood.

Yu Xing now roughly understood how the dense, crisscrossing wounds on her body came to be. The original owner had repeatedly cut her own skin with the blade, using the flowing blood to draw this strange picture in her room.

In Yu Xing’s two decades of life, only mad artists did such things. Was the original owner an artist?

Yu Xing closed her eyes, and as instructed by the Newcomer Guide, tried to excavate the original owner’s memories from her mind.

She still remembered what had happened before transmigrating. She had been in her ward, watching a suggestive streamer dance, when Dr. Zhang knocked and entered.

Dr. Zhang was a new psychiatrist at the hospital—young, handsome, and, most importantly, Yu Xing sensed he was very interested in her.

So when the young and dashing Dr. Zhang pushed open the door and expressed a desire to talk, Yu Xing closed the livestream without a moment’s hesitation.

Dr. Zhang sat across from her, opening her medical chart with a gentle smile. "Xingxing—everyone calls you Xingxing. May I do the same?"

Yu Xing smirked inwardly. This Dr. Zhang was still too green; such transparent attempts to get close to her were long outdated.

But since Yu Xing liked him, she was willing to play along with his old-fashioned tricks.

"Of course," Yu Xing responded, adding, "Darling, you can call me anything you want."

Dr. Zhang’s hand trembled. He took a deep breath, struggling to maintain his smile, and said, "Do you believe everyone is in love with you?"

"It’s not a belief," Yu Xing sighed, a hint of distress in her voice, as she looked down at her patient gown. "It’s a fact. And it’s quite a burden."

"Don’t be troubled," Dr. Zhang’s voice was as gentle as a warm spring breeze. "We will all help you."

He thought for a moment, then added, "But first, you must control your own thoughts. You need to understand that no one falls in love with a stranger on the street."

Yu Xing’s eyes lit up with understanding. So that was his hidden thought.

So she looked at Dr. Zhang, and in an almost doting tone, said, "Baby, are you jealous? Don’t worry, my heart belongs only to you."

Upon hearing this, the young Dr. Zhang’s hand trembled, his face flushed crimson, and then he took a deep breath and lowered his head to write something in the medical record.

Yu Xing secretly peeked. Dr. Zhang seemed to be writing something about recommending that patient Yu Xing not be discharged, and so on.

He must want to keep me by his side forever, Yu Xing thought, touched to the core. He loves me so much, I could cry.

Then Yu Xing saw Dr. Zhang suddenly stand up in shock and rush toward her, after which she remembered nothing else.

She must have transmigrated at that very moment, which was why Dr. Zhang had panicked so suddenly.

Yu Xing sighed gloomily. With her sudden transmigration, Dr. Zhang, Dr. Li, and Nurse Zhao must be heartbroken, right?

She hadn’t meant to be unfaithful; it was just that transmigration was beyond her control.

After wallowing for two minutes over the beloved men she had left behind on Earth, she continued following the forum post’s method to stimulate the original host’s memories.

The original host’s memories were like water inside a balloon, and Yu Xing’s deliberate probing was like a needle. A gentle prick, and the balloon burst, memories came gushing forth.

This was a wasteland world, where ninety percent of the Earth’s land was polluted, forcing humanity to build towering walls to keep the contamination at bay.

The original host was also named Yu Xing, seventeen years old, a pariah living in District D of Seven Cities.

After the dawn of the New Era, to ensure the survival of humanity in such a harsh world and to better resist pollution, the Federal Supreme Court enacted a policy: all newborns must undergo genetic screening at local genetic centers before birth.

Those born after genetic screening were the New Humans, possessing superior genes—stronger, smarter, and more beautiful. Under the leadership of these exceptional individuals, humanity managed to establish city after city in this hostile environment.

Meanwhile, ordinary humans born through natural childbirth without genetic screening, due to their inherently flawed genes, were labeled "Flawed." Because the Flawed were incapable of performing most decent, high-paying jobs, they could only engage in the lowest forms of manual labor. Without the means to live in the more desirable A or B Districts, they were confined to the D District—a cesspool of crime and decay, earning them the derogatory name "Pariahs."

The original host was one such Pariah from District D, with a simple family: a grandmother who cared for her at home, and an older brother currently working as a gigolo in District C.

The original host was relatively fortunate; due to her unique constitution, she was discovered by a prominent figure from District A. This influential person recognized her potential and arranged for her to attend the public Seventh Middle School.

Seventh Middle School was the best public school in Seven Cities, with ninety-nine percent of its students being genetically superior humans. For a Pariah from District D like the original host, attending Seventh Middle School meant a chance for her entire family to rise above their station.

The night she received her admission letter to Seventh Middle School, her brother chain-smoked cheap cigarettes at home all night.

Early the next morning, her brother packed his bags and told her that someone had offered him a lucrative job as a gigolo in District C, enough to cover her tuition at Seventh Middle School.

Then he urged her to study hard before leaving home—and never returned. Only the fixed monthly remittance served as a reminder to the family that he was still alive.