It Is Said That I Have Been Crushed By Dimensionality Reduction (Quick Travel) - Chapter 1

Zhaojia Village lay nestled between mountains and rivers, a remote place where people lived off the land. Occasionally, a hunter would come down from the mountain to trade wild goods with the locals.

One early morning, a heart-wrenching cry pierced the air.

Startled, old Madam Zhao nearly pricked her finger with her sewing needle. She scowled and muttered, “What’s going on at Second Son’s place this early? Wailing like someone’s died.”

The Zhao household was dim and poorly lit, the shadows swallowing most of the room’s details.

Zhao Fu, the head of the family, was clearly annoyed. “Second Son’s wife is crying because we didn’t give them money for medicine.”

Three days earlier, their grandson had nearly drowned after falling into the river. He’d been burning up with fever ever since and hadn’t regained consciousness.

That cry just now… it must have come from that boy.

Zhao Fu rarely showed sympathy, but today, he sighed softly.

Madam Zhao’s face hardened. She dropped her needlework and snapped, “Our money’s already tight! We had to use what little we had to pay for Lin’s schooling. You expect me to spend it on that cursed brat? He might as well just die!”

Zhao Fu didn’t argue. He simply lit his pipe and mumbled, “If the boy dies, so be it. They’re still young—they can have another.”

Madam Zhao didn’t answer, but in her heart, she scoffed. If it were up to her, they wouldn’t get another chance to bring a child into this world. What if the next one was just as cursed?

In her eyes, Brother Lin—their bright, scholarly grandson—was the only one worth investing in. Once he passed the imperial exams, the whole family would rise with him. The more she thought about it, the more convinced she became.

She rose from her seat and stepped outside.

The second family’s home was even worse off than the main house. Winter froze and summer roasted, and the roof still hadn’t been properly patched. But Zhao Pingan and his wife, Cuiniang, had no time to care about leaks. Grief consumed them.

Cuiniang, thin as a stick and wearing patched clothes, sobbed as if her heart were being torn apart. “My baby Yuan…”

On the clay bed lay a boy of five or six, his chest barely moving, skin pale as snow. His closed eyes made her panic, as though he might slip away any second.

Suddenly, the boy’s eyelids fluttered. Slowly, he opened his eyes.

Zhao Pingan and Cuiniang froze. They couldn’t believe it. Even the village doctor had said there was no hope.

Trembling with cautious hope, they called softly, “Brother Yuan…?”

Their son had always looked unusual—white hair, white eyes, and a frail body from years of malnutrition. He looked more like a ghost than a child. At first glance, he seemed otherworldly.

The boy blinked slowly, taking in his surroundings.

Everything was shabby, the light dim, but the room had been kept meticulously clean. They’d done their best with what little they had.

Bai Yuan felt a strange warmth stir within him.

He had truly crossed into a new world.

Back in his original existence, Bai Yuan had been born in the heart of the abyss, unlike any of his kind. While other abyssal beings could only consume a single type of energy, he was different. His soul was immortal, and he could devour all forms of energy: emotions, spirits, even the corruption that drove others mad.

He was feared from the moment he came into being. Even his own kind—who called themselves demons—sought to destroy him, hoping to steal his power.

But they couldn’t.

He slaughtered them one by one.

Eventually, those demons fled the abyss and vanished into other worlds. Bai Yuan remained behind, the abyss growing darker and lonelier.

Then, one day, a strange glowing entity appeared—a system.

He’d never encountered such a curious kind of energy. He didn’t eat it, intrigued by its peculiarity.

Then it spoke:

【Every world has people born to suffer—scorned, feared, wronged, and cast aside. Would you travel to those people, fulfill their wishes, and help change their fate?】

Bai Yuan remembered how he, too, had been feared and betrayed by his own kind. Rage and empathy stirred within him. For the first time in a long while, he felt purpose.

“I will,” he said firmly.

The system bound to him, and together they traversed space and time. When he entered his new vessel—this sickly human child—the system’s voice echoed again:

【Now transmitting world background and mission details…】

This was a backwater world, lacking spiritual energy or power. A tiny corner of civilization where people knew only their land and the name of their local magistrate.

Bai Yuan’s new identity was Zhao Yuan, child of Zhao Pingan and Lin Cuiniang.

Zhao Fu, the family patriarch, had two sons and a daughter. The eldest son had married with help from the family. When it was Second Son’s turn, the family couldn’t spare a single coin.

Luckily, Zhao Pingan was hardworking, and Cuiniang, a strong woman from the next village, loved him. Together, they saved up enough to marry.

Madam Zhao disliked Cuiniang from the beginning—she couldn’t control her. Cuiniang was tough, never complaining, but not the kind to bow and scrape.

Then, Cuiniang became pregnant.

The couple was overjoyed. But when the baby arrived, he was like no other—white hair, white eyes, no pigment in his body at all.

The villagers panicked.

Some said he was cursed. Others blamed him for the ongoing drought. A few even tried to take him and drown him in a nearby pond as an offering to the heavens.

But the young couple refused to let anyone touch their child. Zhao Pingan even swore he’d kill anyone who tried.

Zhao Fu intervened. Though he disdained the boy, he couldn’t let villagers murder his grandson in cold bl00d. Plus, he saw an opportunity—if the couple stayed indebted, he could use them.

An agreement was made: the boy could live, but he had to leave the village when he came of age. Until then, he must stay hidden. And the couple had to hand over all their earnings to support Brother Lin’s education.

Powerless, the couple agreed.

And so five long years passed.

Zhao Yuan was hated by everyone. The village children bullied him. At home, he was ignored while Brother Lin—only two years older—was treated like royalty.

His parents worked themselves to the bone and grew thin as skeletons. Cuiniang often went hungry so he could eat.

People pitied them, but also thought, they brought it on themselves, protecting that cursed child.

Still, the couple never gave up.

Then came the flood.

Someone in the village reported Zhao Yuan to the county magistrate, blaming him for the disaster. The magistrate saw a chance to make a name for himself and came to the village to seize the child.

The couple fought to protect him, but it was no use. When they resisted, the magistrate had them burned alive in their home.

They died with hatred in their eyes, never understanding why their child had been marked as cursed.

Before his death, the original Zhao Yuan had only one wish—to trade his soul to give his parents a better life. He wished that no one would bully them again.

Bai Yuan clenched his fists.

He had seen hatred and betrayal from his own kind. But this—this senseless cruelty—he still could not comprehend.

He asked the system quietly, Why?

【The system doesn’t know, either.】

Back in the shabby little home, Bai Yuan remained still, his gaze unsettling. His parents grew nervous.

“Brother Yuan… please, don’t scare us…”

Then it happened—a wave of emotional energy poured into him.

Bai Yuan stiffened. This… this wasn’t malice, or fear, or greed.

It was something new.

It was love.

And grief.

They loved him. They loved him so fiercely they’d turned against the entire world for his sake.

It stirred something in him.

He reached out with a trembling hand and, awkwardly but sincerely, said, “I’ll protect you.”

His voice was soft, but it carried the weight of something unshakable.

The couple froze. Their baby, still weak, had woken from near-death only to comfort them.

In that moment, they were overcome with guilt, sorrow, and a deep, burning anger.

Zhao Pingan stood abruptly. “Cuiniang—we’re done. Let’s go to Father and demand to split from the family.”

Only with separation could they take control of their lives—and save their child.

Cuiniang raised her head, her eyes rimmed red. “Yes. Even if we have to live in the mountains, we won’t let anything happen to Brother Yuan again.”

They had trusted the wrong people. Even now, it wasn’t the villagers calling for the boy’s death—it was their own kin who left him to die.

At that moment, there came a sharp knock on the door.

“Bang! Bang!—Second Son, open the door!”

A shrill, spiteful voice rang out.

The couple’s faces went cold.

They were quiet, but inside, something had ignited.

Zhao Pingan wiped his face and stepped off the kang.

His decision was made.

This time—they would not back down.