On the night I transmigrated, something crawled down from the ceiling and burrowed into Wu Yu’s nose and mouth.
When he opened his eyes again, he had become a candlemaker named Lothario Marino in thirteenth-century Languedoc, France.
Catholicism seemed mighty and holy here: priests could summon holy light, bishops held the power of law, and the pope claimed to be God’s representative on earth. But Wu Yu soon discovered that the “holy light” of this world could illuminate wandering spirits, yet could not reveal the thing lodged in his throat. Heretics preached “rebirth” in the streets, and what they described was exactly what had happened to him.
He obtained a red stone. It pulsed like a heart, like an egg on the verge of hatching.
He also obtained a candle. When he lit it, the world melted and peeled away, revealing beneath it a place made of floating fragments and chaotic splashes of color: the spirit realm.
Someone told him: The universe was born from a dream. Earth is an eggshell. And something inside that eggshell is coming to maturity.
Wu Yu was the one chosen by this dream.
He just didn’t know whether he had been chosen to save the world or to serve as a sacrifice.
All he knew was that he had to survive. Even if fate no longer belonged to him, he would say it with his own lips at least once: This time, it’s my choice.
Come on, I hope you will be more refined
The information is very detailed and the background story has a medieval feel. I don't know if it was written by AI