Chapter One: The Grandmaster Reborn
“Li Wenxuan! Get your damned self out here, now!”
Outside the battered, slanted wooden door, this arrogant and unruly shout jolted the young man from his deep slumber on the dilapidated wooden bed.
So cold!
A bone-chilling wave swept over him.
Through the broken window, faintly, he could see swirling snow.
What’s happening?
As he lay there, confusion filled his mind.
Suddenly, an overwhelming flood of unfamiliar memories surged forth—
“Ah—”
Li Wenxuan, who had once been a martial arts grandmaster, accustomed to enduring pain—he could break bones and merely grunt—but this soul-rending agony was beyond anything he’d ever felt. Veins bulged on his forehead, and he nearly cried out.
“I’ve… crossed over? This is Wu, a parallel world much like ancient China?”
“This person shares my name, but his fate was tragic…”
Clutching his head, Li Wenxuan gritted his teeth, enduring the agony of merging memories.
His predecessor was the illegitimate son of Li Hu, the General of the Western Garrison, conceived in drunken lust with a beautiful woman abducted from the plains. At the age of ten, during a bitter winter, his stepmother, Lady Cui, forced him to hang himself.
Six years had passed.
In that time, Lady Cui invented countless ways to torment Li Wenxuan: first banishing him to the woodshed, then depriving him of food and clothing. Now winter had come. With snow falling, Lady Cui not only withheld his winter clothes but ordered her second son, Li Sicheng, to throw him into the well, where he froze the night through.
By morning, when they hauled him out, he was barely alive, breathing more out than in. He was tossed back into the woodshed, left to die.
But fate intervened: the former soul perished, and a martial arts master from Blue Star arrived.
“Bang—”
The rickety wooden door was kicked open.
Li Wenxuan sat up, staring at Li Sicheng’s twisted, malicious face.
“You little bastard, still breathing, are you?”
He was the second young master of the General’s residence, obeying Lady Cui’s orders, here with servants to collect the corpse. He’d shouted outside just to see if the brat had died.
“If you’re not dead, why didn’t you answer when I called?”
Li Sicheng tugged at his warm, luxurious fox-fur coat, then barked at the burly, smirking servants beside him, “Go on, smack him twice! Teach him some manners—how dare he ignore me!”
“Yes, Second Young Master! Watch us, we’ll make sure this brat is well taken care of!”
Li Wenxuan glanced at the approaching servant, who was rolling up his sleeves. His brow furrowed. “Get out—”
“Hm?”
The servant was stunned by the rebuke, then burst into mocking laughter.
“You little bastard, do you really think you’re the third young master of the General’s residence?”
The servant strode forward, raising his hand for a vicious slap.
A flash of contempt crossed Li Wenxuan’s eyes. With a swift thrust of his left hand, two fingers jabbed straight at the servant’s most vulnerable spot—the eyes!
---
A pig-like scream echoed as the servant collapsed, writhing and clutching his face, blood oozing between his fingers.
“What did you do?” Li Sicheng recoiled in terror, disbelief etched on his face.
The other servants were stunned, frozen by what they’d witnessed.
Li Wenxuan glanced at his fingers, feeling a slight ache—this body was frail, he thought.
Li Sicheng, seeing his authority challenged, looked at the other three servants and regained some composure. His voice was loud, but it trembled: “All of you, grab this brat, tie him up, and drag him to mother for punishment!”
“Yes!”
The three shaken servants exchanged glances, then with low growls, lunged at Li Wenxuan, who remained seated.
Li Wenxuan’s brow furrowed—
Three screams rang out as the servants fell, clutching their groins, convulsing on the floor.
Oh?
This body isn’t so bad, after all. It’s only malnutrition and exposure that made me underestimate it.
Li Wenxuan’s gaze fixed on Li Sicheng.
Li Sicheng paled in terror, stumbling back. He tripped over the threshold and landed hard, shrieking like a woman robbed of virtue, “What do you—what do you want?!”
Li Wenxuan’s grin was savage as he swept his gaze over Li Sicheng.
Li Sicheng shuddered, hurriedly covering his groin, and blurted out, “If you dare hit me, my mother will have you chopped up and fed to the dogs!”
“Chopped up and fed to the dogs?” Li Wenxuan shook his head, eyes mocking. “If I don’t hit you, do you think your mother won’t still want me dead?”
Thud!
A dusty footprint suddenly appeared on Li Sicheng’s face.
“Ah—”
Li Sicheng lay on the floor, clutching his face and wailing miserably.
“How noisy.”
Li Wenxuan turned, his gaze falling on the chamber pot at the foot of the bed…
“What are you doing?!”
Seeing the demon reach for the chamber pot, Li Sicheng was truly terrified. He forgot the pain from his broken, bleeding nose.
“My mother won’t let you off!”
But Li Wenxuan grabbed the chamber pot and smashed it down onto his head.
Crack—
The pot shattered, icy urine splashing over the fox-fur clad young master’s head and face.
“Ah—”
The humiliation was intense, the stench overwhelming!
---
How could the dignified second son of the General’s residence ever suffer such disgrace?
Li Sicheng, overcome with shame and anguish, shrieked like a woman violated, then fainted dead away.
Li Wenxuan’s gaze calmly swept over the three servants still writhing in agony.
“Carry him away,” he said quietly.
Yet none dared disobey. Trembling, they struggled to their feet, legs clamped, and lifted the unconscious second young master.
Li Wenxuan spoke: “Wait.”
The three froze, turning back in terror.
Li Wenxuan pointed at the bloodied, unconscious servant in the corner.
“Take the trash with you. And clean this room.”
“Yes—”
They nodded in fright, suppressing their disgust as they gathered up the shattered chamber pot.
“Take off your coats. Clean up the mess.”
Li Wenxuan’s brow furrowed, gesturing to the pool of urine on the floor.
They hesitated, faces twisted in misery—but seeing him lean forward, ready to act, they quickly stripped off their outer garments and, near tears, wiped up the filth.
After a while, Li Wenxuan saw they’d done enough and waved them off. “Go. Don’t let me see you here again.”
Like convicts granted reprieve, the three servants lifted the unconscious second young master and the blinded, unconscious servant, fleeing the scene.
Growl—
Li Wenxuan touched his growling stomach and walked straight out the door.
A blast of icy air assaulted him.
The courtyard was blanketed in thick snow. His shoes were so thin it was as if he walked barefoot on the snow. The tattered clothes offered no warmth.
Shivering, Li Wenxuan cursed himself—if only he’d stripped Li Sicheng of his fox-fur coat earlier…
No matter.
No guns, no cannons—let the enemy provide!
No clothes? The enemy will provide!
The entire Western Garrison General’s residence was his enemy.
Feeding off the enemy—it was now a strategy ready for action.
He had beaten Li Sicheng.
A storm of retaliation was imminent.
It would be a battle with no quarter, a fight to the death.
Li Wenxuan had to prepare—warm clothes, a full meal!
And then—raise hell!
To be reborn in the face of death!