Thrown Out on My Wedding Night – The gates of the Qin mansion slammed open, and a body came tumbling into the empty street. He was a thin, pale young man in a red wedding robe. He hit the cobblestones hard and just lay there, staring up at the half-moon overhead. Even half a moon here was three times the size of any moon he’d ever seen on Earth. So I really transmigrated. Memories that didn’t belong to him flooded his head, and Xu Wuzhou finally understood what had happened. One moment he’d been on Earth, jumping into a river to save a kid who’d fallen in. He got the kid to the bank. He didn’t get himself out. The last thing he remembered was a black whirlpool dragging him down. The next thing he knew, he was in someone else’s body — getting his teeth kicked in. The borrowed memories told him the rest.
This was a world where cultivators could split mountains with a punch and sever rivers with a sword. A world straight out of myth. And the body he’d inherited was called Xu Wuzhou — the most infamous deadbeat in the city of Lin’an. Impulsive. Arrogant. Delusional. Couldn’t lift a chicken. His dead parents had left him a fortune. He’d burned through it in a few years and had been living off the Qin family’s charity ever since. The Qin family called him a parasite behind his back. A worm. A waste of rice. So why was the Qin family’s jewel — the cold, untouchable Qin Qingmou — married to a piece of garbage like him? Because their grandfathers had been brothers in arms. Their fathers had been brothers in arms. A marriage pact had been sealed before either child was born. The man who’d just thrown him into the street was his new brother-in-law, Qin Yunjie.
And the reason for the beating? On his wedding night, Xu Wuzhou had climbed into the bed of Lin Qingci — his new wife’s closest friend. On the wedding night. The wife’s best friend. Honestly, the brother-in-law had shown remarkable restraint by not stabbing him. I forced myself on Lin Qingci? The image of a curvy, smiling woman floated up from the borrowed memories. Xu Wuzhou frowned. The memories were clear — she had invited him in. Before he could think it through, a searing pain lanced through his skull. His soul was ripped out of his body and yanked into a strange, silent space. “I spent everything I had trying to reincarnate… and I ended up saving you instead.” An ancient voice rasped directly inside his mind.
Xu Wuzhou found himself standing inside a massive black bowl, its surface webbed with cracks like a spider’s web. Across from him stood a hunched old man whose body was literally dissolving into mist. “Who are you? Where am I—” “Don’t talk, boy. I only have one soul-fragment left. Listen.” The old man’s voice shook with urgency. “This bowl. This is the Samsara Bowl — a treasure of heaven and earth. I was going to use it to reincarnate and cultivate anew. Something went wrong. My soul got shattered. And when I fell through the river of fate, I dragged yours in with me.” He coughed. Pieces of him turned to ash. “The bowl is breaking. But it can repair itself — if you feed it metal. Any metal. And when it repairs, it gives back a liquid. That liquid has three uses.” [Samsara Bowl — First Effect: instantly raises your cultivation.] [Second Effect: heals and strengthens your soul.] [Third Effect: lets you master techniques you’d normally need decades to grasp.] “Understand?” “…Not really.” “Idiot.
Figure it out yourself — I don’t have time.” The old man’s voice sharpened. “Second gift. I spent my entire life mastering two arts: the Extinction Sword Intent, and the Yin-Yang Medical Scripture. I refuse to let them die with me. I’m going to burn my last soul-fragment and brand both into yours.” Before Xu Wuzhou could protest, the old man combusted. A storm of glowing runes tore out of him and slammed into Xu Wuzhou’s soul like nails being driven through glass. The pain was beyond anything a human body was meant to feel. He curled into himself, screaming silently. It lasted fifteen minutes. Then it was gone. And suddenly he knew things. Sword forms. Meridian maps. Medical principles. Knowledge he’d never studied, sitting in his mind as naturally as his own name. “Boy.” The old man was almost transparent now. “The Samsara Bowl is a heaven-shattering opportunity. I only ask one thing in return.” “What?” “I have a disciple.
When you meet her… take care of her.” “Who is she?” “You’ll know when you see her. I—” The old man dissolved. Xu Wuzhou stood there in the silent dark, staring at nothing. “…What the actual hell?” Save a kid. Drown. Wake up in a stranger’s body. Get caught in someone else’s scandal. Beaten unconscious. Meet a dying cultivator who dumped a world-ending cheat into his lap and vanished before finishing a sentence. All inside of twelve hours. He sat up on the cold cobblestones of the street, shook his head to clear it, and took a long look at the sealed gates of the Qin mansion. Going back in there would end with another beating. He walked the other way. He wandered until his stomach reminded him that he hadn’t eaten since before the wedding. Up ahead, a two-story building glowed with warm yellow light. Three enormous characters hung above the door: Imperial Eel Pavilion. His mouth was already watering as he stepped inside. Then he froze. The room was full of women in thin silk.
Perfume thick enough to taste. Painted lips, lowered lashes, laughter in every direction. This wasn’t a restaurant. It was a brothel. The women stared back at him — a groom, in full red wedding robe, walking into a pleasure house on his own wedding night. Even veterans had never seen anything quite like it. Whatever. They probably served food too. And then reality reasserted itself. “YOU LITTLE BASTARD!” The roar almost knocked him off his feet. He turned — and found himself looking into the bulging, murderous eyes of a middle-aged man standing in the doorway. Qin Li. His father-in-law. Xu Wuzhou tried a smile.