Rebirth and Reincarnation
Author:© WebNovel
Chapter 1: 1st Arc: Rebirth of Shen Mu
Rebirth and Reincarnation are, in essence, the same thing, but with a key difference: choice.
In Rebirth, the soul’s next life is determined by its Karma; whereas in reincarnation, the soul can decide where and to whom it will be born. This happens because the more advanced a soul is, the more specific learning experiences it requires so, in a sense, we all go from rebirth to reincarnation over time.
What we sometimes forget is that time is not linear for the universe.
That's what I discovered when I opened my eyes after being killed by a new disease.
Before I died, I remember being unable to breathe for the longest time. I had been plugged into a respirator for almost a week until my body couldn’t take it anymore and gave up. After a moment of nothingness, I began registering new sensations: warmth and then something akin to floating underwater… only that I didn’t need to breathe.
I heard murmurs and voices, but they were too far away and indistinct for me to understand anything.
The water surrounding me was warm and tranquil and I easily lost track of time. After a while of simply being there, there was a bit of movement, followed by a lot of movements; the place where I was at began filling out and I felt pushed in every direction.
I was beginning to panic when a strong yet melodic voice began murmuring sweet nothings. I did not recognize the language, but there was no way to mistake the intention: caring, beckoning. They were expecting me.
The warmth that once surrounded me was replaced by darkness and cold, and the next thing I knew, I was screaming with pain and surprise.
Strong hands covered my back and legs before a cloth was carefully wrapped around my body.
‘What is this? Where am I? What is going on?’
I desperately wanted to open my eyes to find my answers, but as soon as I tried, something distracted me: singing. It was the same melodic voice as before, and its tone was soothing.
From its tone, I knew that whoever was singing was incredibly happy.
‘Ah, this song is so comforting… her voice is marvelous. I wonder who is singing?’
I was so immersed in the beautiful sound, that I completely forgot everything else and just drifted off to sleep.
Chapter 2: Age: 2. Family
I’m unsure of how much time has passed since then, but now, at least, I know what’s going on: I was reborn.
No idea how or why it happened.
Well, I mean, in my past life I had read about it. There was a whole genre of fiction dedicated to people being reborn into different cultures or eras and, of course, there were also those ‘self-help’ books about past lives and the continuation of life after death, but I never sincerely gave it much credit.
But now… now I sincerely don’t know what to think.
I was reborn into the past: somewhere in ancient Asia, but I still can’t figure out where or when. I never really studied the language, history, or culture, so I’m unsure as to where I truly am… not that it really matters, because I doubt I can go back to the future. The fastest thing in this world seems to be horses, so no chance of achieving the needed 88 miles per hour, and no DeLorean either.
As I ponder this, I sit on my current mother’s lap.
This woman is beyond beautiful. I sincerely don’t know how I lucked out with my current parents: My father is a big man with a winning smile, he’s around his thirties and seems to be somewhat important, because many people are coming and going from his study every day; yet despite all the work he does, he always seems to have time to spend with mother and me, unlike my own father from my previous life who was so busy making money to actually see his children.
My current mother, as I stated before, is a drop-dead gorgeous woman with a melodious voice that is just a minor part of her charm. She can’t help but smile when her eyes land on me, and despite the fact that I still can’t understand a word they’re saying, most of the time I get the feeling behind it, so I can say that I somewhat understand what she means.
I don’t seem to have more siblings, which serves me just right, because I wouldn’t know what to do with them in my current state, but I have seen plenty of different faces to know that there are many people living with us.
The only problem of being reborn like I did, is having the mind of a 36-year-old man inside the body of an infant. No matter how much I want to do or say, this body simply can’t handle it and I, more often than not, sleep my life away.
I’ve resigned myself to learning what I can from the people around me while my body gets slowly accustomed to being alive.
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More time has passed.
I must be somewhere around two years old.
My sense of time is skewed since my days are spent exploring this curious world I find myself in.
These people don’t celebrate birthdays as I did in my other life: yes, there is a party, food, and presents but no cake and no candles and, while I understand the language better, there are still many gaps in my knowledge.
At least I made my mother laugh and smile the first time I said “Mama” to her, which I believe is the equivalent of ‘mother’.
I sincerely don’t care if it’s not, since it made her shine that precious smile down at me.
I’ve also spent some more time with my father who I believe is named Shen He Long. I’ve seen him write many letters each day, he has also taken me out of the gigantic home where we live to visit the surrounding towns and forests. He seems to be in charge of a group of armed men, probably soldiers, since they all wear the same black uniforms and armors, who I’ve seen hanging around the house every day. Sometimes a bald man in white clothes comes home and he sequesters my father for hours before he leaves in a palanquin to who knows where.
Many defer to that man but there are also plenty of pity stares sent his way, for some reason.
“Shen Mu, darling, what are you doing?”
I turn around to see my mother sitting on her knees to look at me while her hand gently pats the top of my head.
“Mother!” I smiled and hugged her then point to the thing on the ground “read”
My dearest mother blinks in surprise and looks at what I’m pointing at.
My chubby baby fingers are hard to use and my mind wanders more often than not, but I’ve been able to somewhat work around that to begin training myself in learning the written language.
I wasn’t an author in my past life for nothing. And I sincerely miss writing poems and stories for my blog. So here I am, a lifetime later, trying to do the same thing.
Mother looks at the poorly drawn characters and beams down at me, although I can sense a great deal of surprise coming from her.
“You did this, honey?”
I think the coal stains on my hands are proof enough, but still, I nod at her.
She hugs me “This mother is pleasantly surprised. Her boy is so intelligent.”
‘Ah, flattery will get you anywhere’
My little practice session was cut short when my mother noticed how dirty my hands and arms were and I was thus carried to bathe.
I resigned to my fate.
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