Chapter 403: A Reborn Protagonist's Vow of Vengeance
Tap! Tap! Tap!
The sound of her older sister Xu Ruoshui's high heels approached.
Even without a phone, Xu Ruoxue's Grandmaster-level hearing allowed her to clearly pick up Xu Ruoshui's gentle voice from the villa's first floor.
Xu Ruoxue's lips were nearly bitten raw from nervousness. Her time was up. She rushed out of the bathroom and said to Shen Anyu, "Shen Anyu, my sister Xu Ruoshui and I have something important to discuss. Don't eavesdrop, and don't come out. You absolutely must not, or I'll be angry!"
"Okay!"
Only then did Xu Ruoxue relax. She quickly exited, closed the door, and pulled her puzzled older sister Xu Ruoshui to the living room sofa on the first floor.
Lounging on the plush bed inside the master suite, Shen Anyu merely smirked. His fingers lazily swiped through the air, manipulating a holographic projection only he could see. The feed was crystal-clear, streamed directly from a nanometer-sized monitoring robot that had discreetly attached itself to Xu Ruoxue's collar. He could hear every rustle of their clothing, every hitch in their breath.
His expression was one of profound, almost theatrical interest, like a king watching a particularly entertaining court drama. He was genuinely curious. How would two ordinary women, even ones as brilliant as the Xu sisters, rationalize the impossible reality of a soul swap? How would they process the fact that the man who had just shared the most intimate moments with one of them was now, technically, inhabiting the body of the other? Their panic, their confusion, their inevitable confrontation—it was all a delightful spectacle.
'Let's see what kind of solution you two come up with… and more importantly, how will you face me after you've pieced it all together?' Shen Anyu thought, a predator's calm settling over him.
...
Meanwhile, hundreds of miles away in Sichuan, the world was painted in shades of grey and pale blue as dawn struggled to break through the morning mist. Before a grand villa, built in a classical style with sweeping tiled roofs and ornate wooden gates, stood two figures. One was a man in his prime, the other a youth on the cusp of adulthood. Both were clad in severe, black martial arts attire that seemed to drink the faint morning light.
The middle-aged man's face was a study in authority—square-jawed and broad, with large ears that hinted at a keen sense of hearing. His presence was as solid and unyielding as a mountain. A sharp, dangerous glint would occasionally flash within the depths of his dark eyes, a proof of a spirit honed by decades of relentless training. His temples bulged prominently, a clear sign of condensed inner qi, and his tall, robust physique radiated immense power. As he exhaled, a visible plume of white air shot out from his lips, hanging in the frigid morning for several meters before dissipating—the unmistakable mark of a Martial Arts Grandmaster operating at a profound level of mastery.
In stark contrast, the young man beside him was delicate, his handsome face marred by a sickly pallor. His gaze was fixed upon the imposing villa, and his eyes were a swirling vortex of emotions: raw anger, deep-seated resentment, and a bitter, soul-crushing unwillingness to accept his fate.
"Hao'er, must we truly be the ones to propose breaking off the engagement?" the middle-aged man finally asked, his voice low and heavy, laced with a father's worry.
It was not the first time he had asked this question in the last twelve hours. Severing an engagement, especially between two martial arts families, was no trivial matter. It was a declaration, a public severing of ties that would send ripples throughout their entire community.
These two were Long Qing, the formidable patriarch of the Sichuan Long Family, and his third son, Long Hao.
The Long Family was a name of some renown in Sichuan's martial arts circles. They were a storied lineage, producing Martial Arts Grandmasters in every generation and even boasting a legendary Great Grandmaster among their ancestors. In the city of Miancheng, they were one of the three ruling families, a second-rate martial arts aristocracy with deep roots and considerable influence.
Of course, within the sprawling, dragon-eat-dragon metropolis of Sichuan, the Long Family was merely a notable player, far from the true titans who shaped the province.
Hearing his father's hesitant question again, the storm in Long Hao's eyes instantly vanished, replaced by a chillingly cold resolve. He lifted his chin, his pale face hardening as he stared at the villa's silent facade. A contemptuous snort escaped his lips.
"Father, if we don't proactively break the engagement today," he said, his voice grating with suppressed fury, "then in two days, at the Chuan Shu Martial Arts Tournament, Su Hongmian will do it herself. She will publicly renounce me in front of everyone. She will make our Long Family the laughingstock of the entire Martial Arts World. We will be so thoroughly humiliated that we will never be able to hold our heads high again!"
Long Hao spoke these words through teeth clenched so tightly his jaw ached, his tone carrying the absolute certainty of a man who had already lived through that very nightmare.
And in his mind, he had.
'Su Hongmian, oh Su Hongmian, you could never have expected this, could you?' A savage, triumphant sneer flickered across his inner thoughts. 'I, Long Hao, have been reborn! I've returned from two and a half years in the future!'
The memory was as vivid and painful as a fresh wound. He could still feel it—the vast, packed arena of the Chuan Shu Martial Arts Tournament. Thousands of eyes, all fixed on him. The condescending smirk on Su Hongmian's flawlessly beautiful face as she stood on the central stage, her voice as cold and sharp as a shard of ice.
"I, Su Hongmian," she had declared, her voice amplified to echo through the stadium, "hereby announce the dissolution of my engagement to Long Hao of the Long Family. A genius should be paired with a genius. I cannot bind myself to a waste whose cultivation has vanished."
The words had struck him like a physical blow. A wave of shocked murmurs had rippled through the crowd, quickly morphing into open jeers and mocking laughter. He remembered the pitying looks, the whispers of 'cripple' and 'fallen genius'. He remembered the crushing weight of his father's hand on his shoulder, a gesture of support that felt more like an admission of defeat. The Long Family's reputation had been shattered in an instant.
'In my past life, you made me and my family a joke, our name dragged through the mud!' he seethed internally. 'But the heavens have granted me another chance! A chance to live again, and they even bestowed upon me a System! In this life, Su Hongmian, I will make you understand the true meaning of regret. I will show you that I, Long Hao, am not some useless trash you can discard at will. I am a titan you will never, ever be worthy of standing beside!'
As he dwelled on the past, Long Hao's expression flickered, the trauma and rage of his previous life warring with the exhilaration of his present. He had once been a celebrated prodigy, reaching the Innate Realm at an astonishingly young age, destined for greatness. Pundits had predicted he would become a Grandmaster, perhaps even a Great Grandmaster like his ancestor. Then, disaster struck. Overnight, for reasons no doctor or martial arts expert could explain, his cultivation base had crumbled to nothing.
Any True Qi he painstakingly cultivated would inexplicably vanish within hours. Every effort to recover was futile. He had become a true cripple.
Eventually, Long Hao had resigned himself to his fate. With the Long Family's wealth, he could still live a life of decadent luxury. But Su Hongmian's public humiliation had been the final straw. The arrogant young mistress had not just broken their engagement; she had ground his pride into dust for all to see. The fury and shame had driven him mad for a time, but his rage was impotent. He was still a good-for-nothing.
From that day forward, he had spiraled into complete despair. He gave up on everything, locking himself in his room, drowning his sorrows in video games, mindless videos, and the solitary, shameful practice of his 'ancestral craft'. Two and a half years of that pathetic, muddled existence passed before his body finally gave out. He died from a heart attack, brought on by days of continuous, frenzied indulgence.
He had expected oblivion. Instead, he awoke in his own bed, years in the past, with a cold, mechanical voice echoing in his mind. He had been reborn. He had a System.
Long Hao slowly clenched his fists, the knuckles turning white. The memory of his pathetic end fueled the fire in his soul, and a wave of raw, ecstatic power surged through him. His expression was a terrifying mix of excitement, exhilaration, and manic glee.
'In this life, with a System that defies the very heavens, I, Long Hao, will carve my name into the annals of history! I will become a supreme powerhouse who dominates the world!'
'And you, Su Hongmian... just you wait. Just you wait and regret. In the last life, you shattered my pride in public. In this life, I will make you experience what it means to chase your husband to the crematorium, kneeling at my feet to beg for my forgiveness…'
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