The chaotic and blurry memories are as bizarre as AI painting. The old man sometimes wears reading glasses and flips through obscure Chinese medical texts on a table pressed against a glass plate, and sometimes leans on his sword to talk to people wearing long robes.

The ever-changing background switches back and forth between the small western-style houses in Chinese countryside and the thick granite stone walls, and the sound of fragmented conversations echoes incessantly in the ears, making it difficult to hear what it is. Memory has become a strange mixture like strawberry Mapo tofu. What's more strange is that he thinks these are not conflicting.

Of course, before thoroughly going to bed, he groped for the third time trying to find that thing. First by the pillow and bedside, then under the blanket. After a while, he remembered what he was really looking for.

Where's my phone?!

What is a mobile phone?

Where's the phone? Where's the phone?

What is a mobile phone?!

I lost my phone?!

……

After a moment of shock, the brain, freed from drowsiness and pain, fully regained consciousness, and now things are clear.

A strange thing from another world, after a night of revelry after an exam, experienced some gratifying accidents that may allow my roommate to smoothly enter the next stage of learning. Perhaps due to the completion of my educational achievements or other fantastic reasons that third rate novelists cannot think of, I was inexplicably thrown into another world and said goodbye to sub-health from then on.

Perhaps due to the long journey and some wear and tear, this soul, whose right and wrong are difficult to distinguish, doesn't even remember its own name, but the knowledge points memorized before the exam are still engraved in its mind.

And the original owner of this robust body, a rural aristocratic spirited young man, grew up under his grandfather's traditional physics education and built a small castle spanning three generations. From a young age, his physical education classes mainly focused on playing with a windmill with two handed swords.

Around the age of ten, Kraft began to develop into a cultured person under the guidance of his semi literate grandfather. In the standard painful education, Teacher Anderson did not smoothly teach him this set of local letter writing that looked like English, read like English, and write like English, but was not English - thus Kraft became the first cultured person in three generations of the family to be able to read and write fluently on his own.

So currently, these two are facing both good news and bad news:

The bad news is that they have been mixed up, you have me and I have you. I'm afraid they won't be able to separate in this lifetime.

The good news is that it was stirred so evenly that it can be said to be a completely new individual, with memories and thoughts interconnected in their minds, like soy sauce mixed in vinegar, Coca Cola mixed in Pepsi, and Sprite mixed in red wine. From what I see now, even if they don't have both strengths, there won't be any rejection reaction.