Chapter 1: He Actually Entered a Novel!

"Hey, cut it out! How’s anyone supposed to get a good night’s sleep like this?"

Jiang Yan felt a tickling sensation on his face, as if someone was teasing him with a feather. Damn it, could it be that mischievous little sister up to her old tricks again? He was terribly ticklish and instinctively fought back.

A sharp "meow" rang out at the exact moment his hand struck, and a small white cat with odd-colored eyes leapt from the bed in a flash.

Startled, Jiang Yan sat bolt upright. Was that really a cat’s cry? How did a cat end up in his room? Could it be that his sister finally couldn’t resist bringing home a Hajimi?

He glanced around and found himself in an unfamiliar room filled with an ancient, elegant charm.

Beneath him was a comfortable, spacious bed, covered with a luxurious brocade quilt. The headboard was exquisitely carved and decorated with intricate floral patterns. A faint scent of sandalwood floated in the air.

At the center of the room stood a large writing desk, upon which rested an inkstone, a brush holder, and a pot of white chrysanthemums.

What the hell? Where was he? Was this Hengdian World Studios? But there were no cameras. Was this some kind of elaborate prank?

The little white cat, seeing its master awake, meowed repeatedly in protest, as if blaming its unreliable owner. It had kindly tried to wake him, and he’d smacked its backside in return!

Suddenly, a shadow appeared in the room. A youth dressed in black, clearly accustomed to moving unseen, bowed deeply and said, "Master, word has come from our scouts: the Crown Prince has made no unusual moves recently. However, as for the Empress..."

He hesitated, then carefully continued, "The Empress wishes His Majesty to bestow a marriage upon you. She says you are already fifteen and of age to wed."

Seeing his master had yet to reply, he added, "In five days, the Empress will host a Hundred Flowers Banquet, inviting all the noble young ladies—she says it’s to help you make an early selection."

With this sudden flood of information, Jiang Yan’s mind buzzed.

Damn, had he transmigrated? Would he also have a system now?

[System? Are you there? System, hello?]

He called out several times in his mind, but was met with only silence.

Fine, so he didn’t have a cheat code. Nor did he have any memories belonging to this body.

He looked over at the youth, who seemed earnest and honest, about fourteen years old and dressed all in black.

Not bad—perhaps he could pry some useful information out of this boy.

"And who might you be?" Jiang Yan feigned a headache, pressing his temples as if in pain. "Oh, my head hurts..."

With his awkward performance, Jiang Yan managed to glean a good deal from the unsuspecting youth.

He learned that this body’s name was also Jiang Yan.

This continent was called Xuantian, the realm of mortals and cultivators before they ascended.

It was a land of many kingdoms and cultivation sects.

He was in the Kingdom of Jiang.

The Emperor had three sons and five daughters.

He himself was the Second Prince, born of Consort Yu. The Crown Prince was the Empress’s son. The Third Prince, his younger full brother, had been taken a year ago as the final disciple by the Fifth Elder of the Xuanling Sect, specializing in alchemy...

Wait, why did all this sound so familiar?

Wasn’t this the very plot his sister had been blasting aloud at home every day lately?

Just yesterday, he’d been ridiculing the foolishness of the second lead, who shared his very name. He’d declared that the second male lead must have a hole in his head!

Jiang Yan’s heart let out a goose’s cry—hell, he’d transmigrated into a novel!

He’d actually become the beautifully tragic, strong yet lovesick second male lead of a female cultivator’s wish-fulfillment story!

He could accept being beautiful and strong, but tragic and lovesick? Absolutely not!

The second male lead was nothing but a hopeless simp!

According to the novel, his looks were said to outshine the male lead’s icy face by miles.

Even his cultivation talent surpassed the protagonist’s. If he’d cultivated for three centuries like the male lead, his achievements would be no less.

And yet, the heroine chose a three-hundred-and-twenty-year-old “old man” of a master for a forbidden romance.

Well, the novel claimed the male lead looked only twenty-five.

The key was, the heroine constantly dangled the original Jiang Yan along under the pretense of “just friends”.

She’d come to him for money, for healing, or whenever she quarreled with the protagonist!

Did she take him for a fool with a bottomless wallet?

Wasn’t that just keeping him as a backup?

In the novel, during a sect competition, the heroine’s golden core was shattered by the evil female rival’s trickery.

Jiang Yan, out of love, dug out his own golden core and gave it to her.

He himself became a cripple, unable to cultivate.

On the day of her wedding to the protagonist, he died from heartbreak, coughing up blood.

His sister had said the female readers wept buckets at that part.

To them, the male lead was for the heroine, but the second lead belonged to everyone.

They railed against the author in the comments, demanding the second lead be brought back to life.

Thinking of this, Jiang Yan decided he needed to admire this body’s rumored beauty to calm himself.

He walked over to the mirror—only to see a plump man staring back at him.

Forgive him for not noticing earlier, but he’d become fat!

No wonder he felt so heavy; he’d thought it was just the aftereffects of gaming all night.

By his estimation, he weighed at least two hundred and fifty pounds.

So much for beauty and strength!

In the novel, the heroine met the second lead after he’d already been at the Xuanling Sect for three years.

He was described as more beautiful than a woman, yet with a distinctly masculine allure.

But the book never mentioned he’d been fat before entering the sect!

Clearly, losing weight would be his first task.

According to the plot, in three months the annual sect disciple recruitment would be held.

He decided to spend those three months quietly improving himself—becoming handsome and powerful.

And he warned himself: cherish your life, stay away from the protagonist and heroine!

"An Yi, after talking with you, I seem to have recovered a few more memories. I should regain them all in a few days..."

He instructed An Yi to keep his amnesia a secret for now, then sent him away.

"My dear son, look what I’ve brought you!"

A beautiful woman in her early thirties burst in, excitement radiating from her. This must be Consort Yu.

She produced a golden sword, its scabbard ringed with elaborate carvings, and placed it proudly in Jiang Yan’s arms.

"Is...is this an imperial sword?" Jiang Yan blurted without thinking.

"No, my child, do you know what sword this is?"

"I got this from your uncle. It’s a spirit sword. I heard that old hag the Empress is planning some Hundred Flowers Banquet for you. I don’t trust her one bit."

Consort Yu’s willow-leaf brows arched as she continued, "Listen, if anyone gets mouthy, just whack them on the head with it..."

Wow, his mother was truly fierce!

Never mind wielding a sword like a brick—if the opponent was some big shot, wouldn’t he be dead in an instant?

"Mother...isn’t that a bit much? It’s still a sword. And what if they’re a cultivator? Wouldn’t they just kill me?"

She felt his forehead. No fever.

"Son, have you forgotten? Our kingdom is protected by two great cultivators at the tribulation stage, one of whom is your great-great-great-grandfather. No other cultivators are allowed to harm our people."

Then, leaning in, she added conspiratorially, "Don’t underestimate this sword. The scabbard is so sturdy, it’s better than any brick. Once you reach the Foundation Establishment stage, you’ll be able to draw the sword itself!"

Jiang Yan could hardly contain his delight. What a superb setting!

The tribulation stage was the highest before ascension!

So his great-great-great-grandfather was a big shot on the Xuantian Continent—he could walk sideways wherever he pleased!

Jiang Yan suddenly felt much more confident. He would definitely seize an opportunity to meet this formidable ancestor.

With such a powerful backer, how could he not cling tight?