Chapter 001: The Grand Welcome Gift of Transmigration

Broad shoulders and a narrow waist, a lean and powerful upper body, chest muscles neither too thick nor too thin, eight sharply defined abs, and an enticing Apollo’s belt that disappeared beneath the white trousers. Jet-black hair fell over half his face, obscuring his features, but from the shape of those lips and the clean, decisive line of his jaw, it was clear that this man was strikingly handsome.

If only this beautiful man’s limbs weren’t bound by iron chains—
If only there wasn’t a dagger lodged in his left chest—
If only that dagger wasn’t held in her own hand, it would have been perfect.

After absorbing the memories of her predecessor, Yan Shu looked at the faint, crimson bar above the man’s head, which read ‘Affection: -70 (Hatred)’, and her hand trembled around the dagger.

What is this? Some kind of transmigration starter pack?!

This beautiful man’s name was Xiao Jihan—a pure yang body, something seen only once in a millennium. Born immune to all demons and evil spirits, it meant that, for Xiao Jihan, cultivation and advancement were nearly without bottlenecks, as he had no inner demons and thus no heart trials to face.

Even if he merely possessed an ordinary spiritual root, all the great sects would have vied to nurture him. Yet, fate decreed that he had a four-attribute pseudo-spiritual root, almost impossible to cultivate.

Almost impossible—but not entirely.

Only Yan Shu knew the truth: Xiao Jihan’s so-called useless pseudo-spiritual root was in fact a growth-type spiritual root, unprecedented in the cultivation world. Though cultivating was torturously difficult in the beginning, once on the right path, as the spiritual root advanced step by step, it would ultimately become a terror even greater than the self-cultivating super spiritual roots.

And Xiao Jihan, at a pace that would astound the world, would rise from Foundation Establishment to Crossing Tribulation, and at last become the first ascendant in ten thousand years of cultivation history.

As for her—Xiao Jihan’s nominal master—she was destined to become the sacrifice for his spiritual root’s second advancement.

Despite the agony of having his heart’s blood extracted, Xiao Jihan’s face showed no sign of pain. He glanced down at the blood slowly seeping from his chest, lips curving in a mocking smile. “If Master’s hand keeps trembling, this heart’s blood will be wasted.”

These words snapped Yan Shu back to reality. What did her predecessor do at this point?

Oh, right—lick, suck…

Yan Shu instantly stiffened, her whole being thrown into turmoil. Was it really so… suggestive?

Taking heart’s blood was one thing, but licking and sucking? Anyone who knew the truth would realize she was drinking his heart’s blood; those who didn’t might think it was some sort of prelude to intimacy!

Staring at the blood on Xiao Jihan’s chest, Yan Shu braced herself and leaned in.

This man looked as if he’d only just reached Foundation Establishment, but in reality, he’d already formed his Gold Core—breaking free from these profound iron chains was a matter of moments.

If he noticed something amiss, she wouldn’t even have three months to live; she’d die here and now.

That’s why, though her hand trembled as if seized by a cramp, she dared not loosen her grip on the dagger.

Yan Shu forced herself to draw closer to his chest. Instead of the expected metallic tang of blood, a faint, enticing fragrance filled her senses—no wonder he was a precious tonic for her pure yin body.

Yet, it was still human blood. Raised under the red flag, Yan Shu couldn’t quite cross that line in her heart. But for the sake of her own life, she stretched out her tongue and gave it a tentative lick.

Huh. It was even a little sweet.

Her acceptance grew considerably. Yan Shu thought for a moment, then gently withdrew the dagger, watching as the bleeding slowly ceased before she pressed her lips to the wound again.

No wonder he was the protagonist—his skin was so impossibly smooth, licking it was like tasting pudding!

Eyes closed, Yan Shu focused on her task. With nothing to see, she found the whole thing much more bearable—even, perhaps, a little enjoyable.

A tingling, numbing sensation spread from his chest. Xiao Jihan watched as Yan Shu, tongue out like a cat, licked away the traces of blood on his chest. Beneath the veil of inky hair, his phoenix eyes were bottomless and dark.

Yan Shu was so engrossed that she failed to notice the blood-red bar above Xiao Jihan’s head—the one only she could see—flicker briefly from -60 back to -70.

When his chest was left spotless and smooth, Yan Shu looked up, satisfied, cleared her throat, and imitated her predecessor’s tone: “Your master’s heart demon has been resolved. Today is the last time I’ll take your heart’s blood. From now on, you needn’t trouble yourself over this. Go and rest; starting tomorrow, I will officially teach you the Xuantian Sect’s core techniques.”

Afraid he might not believe her, Yan Shu, to show her sincerity, picked up the dagger and hacked at the chains binding Xiao Jihan.

Clang!

A numbing jolt shot through Yan Shu’s hand, but the chain didn’t budge.

That shouldn’t be—the dagger was forged from extreme yin black iron; cutting an ordinary black iron chain should have been as easy as slicing tofu!

Unwilling to accept defeat, Yan Shu raised the dagger and swung again.

Clang!

Still, the chain remained unmoved. Instead, Xiao Jihan’s wrists, bound by the chain, began to redden from the strain.

Uhh…

Yan Shu dared not meet Xiao Jihan’s gaze. Crestfallen, she fished a key from her storage pouch and unlocked the chains for him. “Everything your master has said is true. From now on, you’ll never have to enter this dungeon again.”

With those words, she didn’t dare linger a moment longer and turned to leave.

Xiao Jihan watched her retreating figure, his phoenix eyes gradually frosting over with cold. Only when she vanished from sight did he look away, pick up his clothes from the ground, and leave.

The dungeon entrance was right in Yan Shu’s courtyard. After emerging, she crept to her bedroom window and waited quietly for Xiao Jihan.

When Yan Shu saw the number above Xiao Jihan’s head drop to -75, she nearly lost her mind!

She had promised to stop drinking his blood and had started acting like a proper master—so why had his affection not risen, but dropped another five points instead?!

Why?! Why?!

Yan Shu collapsed onto her bed, despairing at her fate.

Her predecessor had a heart demon, and every full moon was the time when it raged most fiercely. Xiao Jihan’s blood was the perfect medicine to suppress it.

So, under the pretense of taking a disciple, the original Yan Shu had used Xiao Jihan as a living blood bank, chaining him in the dungeon on the fifteenth of each month to extract his heart’s blood.

According to the plot, three months later, when Xiao Jihan broke through to the Nascent Soul stage, he would, at the moment when she was most vulnerable, break free from the chains that no longer restrained him, and use the very dagger that had gouged out his heart’s blood to carve out her spiritual root as a tonic, then destroy her cultivation and behead her.

After her death, the protective Xuantian Sect would hunt Xiao Jihan, only to be destroyed in turn.

A -75 ‘hatred’ affection bar, a sword hanging over her head set to fall in three months, and the sect doomed to annihilation—Yan Shu jolted upright in bed.

Xiao Jihan was the male lead; anyone who harbored ill intent toward him met a bad end. Every danger he encountered would become a stepping stone for the evolution of his spiritual root.

Killing was out of the question—but could she not run?

Exactly! She should hide away, diligently study her predecessor’s techniques. Now that she was free of her heart demon, as long as she found a place to lay low and survived until Xiao Jihan ascended, she’d be safe!

No sooner thought than done.

Yan Shu rushed outside, summoned her life-bound flying sword, and had just taken to the air when a peal of thunder rumbled overhead. A violet bolt shot straight down at her!

Boom!

Both she and her sword were struck and crashed to the ground.

A gust of wind ruffled her hair, each strand standing on end. Charred on the outside and tender within, Yan Shu climbed to her feet and silently raised a middle finger to the heavens.

Damn you!

They wouldn’t even let her change the plot!