Chapter 3

A black BMW 6 Series sports car sped towards the Macheng District Health Bureau. Cheng Zhifeng listened to the thunderous rock music in the car, his heart surging like the tide.

He was going to the Health Bureau to pick up his fiancée, Wang Mengxin.

Cheng Zhifeng was a TCM graduate student who had just returned to Qingmei City after graduation. His uncle urged him to get married. Four years ago, Cheng Zhifeng's parents died of sudden illness, leaving a will that if Cheng Zhifeng did not get married within half a year after graduation, he would not inherit the Cheng family's assets, which would all be donated to charity.

Cheng Zhifeng was now going to pick up Wang Mengxin after work to have dinner in Qingmei City. Tonight, everyone would gather to discuss the wedding banquet for next month.

After the wedding, Cheng Zhifeng would go to work at the Ninghai Provincial Hospital as a chief physician.

His mentor, Li Guangke, was the dean of the TCM College at Ninghai Medical University, a nationally renowned TCM practitioner who enjoyed a special government allowance.

Because of his extraordinary abilities in TCM, Cheng Zhifeng was hired as a teaching assistant by the medical college even before he graduated.

Cheng Zhifeng had not spent much time with Wang Mengxin, the deputy director of the Macheng District Health Bureau. The two families were old friends, and they had arranged their engagement five years ago. They had little affection for each other and rarely spent time together. In the end, the marriages of these high-profile, wealthy families were not decided by themselves.

Currently, everything in the Cheng family was managed by Cheng Zhifeng's uncle, Cheng Hai, and Cheng Zhifeng always listened to Cheng Hai.

As the sports car turned into Xinhua Street, Cheng Zhifeng lightly pressed the brake to slow down and turn right onto the street. He had already entered Macheng District, and it would only take another ten minutes to reach the Health Bureau.

He had been driving for many years and was an excellent driver, but after he lightly pressed the brake, the sports car did not slow down and continued to rush forward.

Wasn't I pressing hard enough? Cheng Zhifeng thought as he pressed the brake harder, but the sports car still rushed forward, and the speed seemed to increase.

"Damn!" Cheng Zhifeng quickly turned the steering wheel, and the sports car rushed into the right street.

"Bang!" The sports car was too fast, and after entering the street, it lost control, flipped over, and continued to slide forward.

"Boom!" A young man was just walking out of a store with a package when the sports car crashed into the building next to the store, causing a huge explosion. The young man was thrown into the air by the blast.

"Ah!" Cheng Zhifeng screamed and jumped up from the ground. He felt dizzy and confused, but when he looked at his hands and feet, he found nothing wrong. When the sports car hit the street barrier, his head had hit the windshield and bled. How could he feel nothing? How could he not be bleeding?

"Why am I not hurt?" Cheng Zhifeng shouted.

"Tsk, of course you're not hurt. It wasn't you who crashed, you were just knocked down by the blast." A woman in her fifties rolled her eyes at Cheng Zhifeng.

"It wasn't me who crashed?" Cheng Zhifeng looked up and saw that the BMW 6 Series by the mall was completely burned and occasionally exploded. It was his sports car, but how did he end up outside?

A burly man ran out of the store and shouted at Cheng Zhifeng, "Kid, you didn't pay for the things you bought. Do you think I won't beat you up?" He grabbed Cheng Zhifeng's collar and was about to hit him.

"When did I buy anything from you?" Cheng Zhifeng replied.

"You're still lying? Look at what you have in your hand. Is it from our store?" The burly man pointed at the package in Cheng Zhifeng's hand.

Only then did Cheng Zhifeng realize he was holding a package, and the clothes and pants he was wearing were not what he had on today. They were clearly cheap street clothes, not his Versace.

"Ah..." Cheng Zhifeng saw his reflection in the store window and realized it was not him but the young man who had just walked out. The high nose, the thin face, and the thick hair made him look a bit more handsome.

"Ghost..." Cheng Zhifeng pointed at the window, and the young man in the window also pointed at him.

"Your sister, do you think I'll let you go just because you call me a ghost?" The burly man punched Cheng Zhifeng in the stomach in anger.

"Bang!" Cheng Zhifeng fell to the ground, and the burly man continued to kick him.

Cheng Zhifeng covered his head, and as his mind began to clear, he started to receive other memories.

The young man was named Mo Zhitao. The store owner had gone inside to get something, and Mo Zhitao had taken a few packages and run out of the store. He had not expected to be hit by Cheng Zhifeng's car. All of this was in Cheng Zhifeng's memory.

"Don't hit me, I'll pay you." Cheng Zhifeng shouted.

"Your sister, if you had said that earlier, I wouldn't have hit you." The burly man stopped and watched as Cheng Zhifeng got up and took out his wallet to count the money.

Cheng Zhifeng held the package and looked at himself in the store window. There was no mistake; he now looked like Mo Zhitao.

He, he had died in the car accident, and his soul had possessed Mo Zhitao's body.

"Ah!" Cheng Zhifeng screamed and clutched his head, slowly falling to the ground.

When Cheng Zhifeng regained consciousness, the accident scene had been cleared. He asked the store owner and learned that his body had been burned and the police had taken his body and the car to the police station.

How could this happen? I need to go home. Cheng Zhifeng wanted to go back to the Cheng family and tell his uncle Cheng Hai that he was still alive.

No, my sports car has a high safety rating. How could the brake fail? And the airbags did not deploy to protect the driver. How could it catch fire and explode immediately after the crash? Someone must have tampered with my car.

Yesterday, Cheng Zhifeng had driven the car without any issues. Why did it crash today? It was a conspiracy. Someone wanted to kill him. Cheng Zhifeng clenched his fists tightly, feeling a chill run through his body. Someone wanted to kill him. Who? Who wanted to kill him? Why? Thinking about this, Cheng Zhifeng calmed down and headed to the Macheng District Public Security Bureau.

At the bureau, Cheng Zhifeng saw Cheng Hai's Mercedes parked inside, and two bodyguards from the Cheng family were standing outside.

These two used to bow and scrape to him, but now they treated him like a passerby.

Soon, a first-level police inspector bowed and scraped as he accompanied Cheng Hai out.

The Cheng family's business was huge, and the city leaders paid great attention to their company, let alone the head of a district police bureau.

Cheng Zhifeng was about to step forward when the two bodyguards pushed him away, "Get out of the way, don't block our boss's path."

The bodyguards pushed Cheng Zhifeng to the ground, and Cheng Hai glanced at him before walking to his Mercedes.

Cheng Zhifeng wanted to call out to Cheng Hai, but his head ached again, and he clutched his head and crouched down.

The two sets of memories in his head were rolling and entangled, and his head felt like it was being pierced by a thousand needles.

After half an hour, Cheng Zhifeng recovered.

I am now Mo Zhitao. Even Cheng Hai couldn't recognize me, let alone anyone else. What should I do? Who wants to kill me? If I go back to the Cheng family and say I am Cheng Zhifeng, no one will believe me. They will think I am crazy and might even kill me.

Thinking about this, Cheng Zhifeng felt a wave of fear, as if the killer was watching him, ready to strike at any moment.

What am I afraid of? My soul is in Mo Zhitao's body, and no one knows I am Cheng Zhifeng. Thinking about this, Cheng Zhifeng felt a bit more at ease.

Suddenly, Cheng Zhifeng's head ached again, and he fainted on the ground.

Three days passed, and Cheng Zhifeng read a lot of news reports. He had been cremated, and the cause of death was a car accident due to excessive speed.

Cheng Hai, as the second heir of the Cheng family, inherited his parents' assets. In the gossip and entertainment news, a certain rich second generation was pursuing the Wang family's daughter, and it was said that they had already started discussing marriage.

What made Mo Zhitao even angrier was that his classmate, Xiao Rufeng, claimed on a medical website that he had spent years researching acupuncture and had finally developed a TCM acupuncture technique called "Flowing Needle Acupuncture," which was highly effective in treating diseases.

"Flowing Needle Acupuncture" was a medical achievement that Cheng Zhifeng had spent years researching during his TCM graduate studies. It was very effective in treating patients, and he had planned to publish it in "Huaxia TCM." After the accident, the achievement was stolen by Xiao Rufeng.

At the time, because it had not been published, Cheng Zhifeng had not told his mentor, Li Guangke, but only Xiao Rufeng.

The current Cheng Zhifeng, now Mo Zhitao, had calmed down a lot. Cheng Hai had inherited his assets. If he returned to the Cheng family, even if the killer was not Cheng Hai, would Cheng Hai recognize him? Would he harm him? Even his own uncle, in the face of billions of assets, could turn into an enemy. This kind of situation was common in TV shows.

That seemingly innocent Wang Mengxin, how could she immediately fall into someone else's arms after his death? Was there something behind it? Was it her lover who did it? Or did she play a role in the murder? Mo Zhitao threw the newspaper on the ground and stood up, looking out the window at the sycamore trees.

Mo Zhitao, 22 years old, had graduated from the Qingmei City Health School and had been working as a doctor's assistant at the Macheng District People's Hospital for three years. Mo Zhitao's behavior in the hospital was improper, and he was uneducated. The hospital leadership was planning to fire him.

Sigh, how did my soul end up in this loser's body? Mo Zhitao sighed inwardly. He was only good-looking, but he was useless.

Uneducated and lazy, this was how everyone described him.

No, I must find out who wants to harm me. I must take revenge and get my assets back. Mo Zhitao clenched his fists tightly. However, his current strength was too weak. If he acted rashly, someone could easily have him killed. He must think carefully and not act impulsively.

"Ah!" Mo Zhitao screamed in pain, clutching his head and sucking in cold air. Since the two sets of memories occupied one brain, his head often ached, sometimes once a day, sometimes several times. This overlapping of memories could not be solved even by Mo Zhitao's acupuncture methods.

"Ring ring ring..." Mo Zhitao's phone rang urgently.