After Jianxiu Gave The Villain In The Book A Wedding To Bring Him Good Luck... - Chapter 1

When Mu Wan regained consciousness, he found himself sitting in a soft sedan chair. The ride was steady, and the interior was luxuriously decorated with gemstones and pearls. A heavy, dark bridal veil weighed upon his head, yet it could not prevent Mu Wan from perceiving his surroundings clearly.

He was dressed in ceremonial robes with a jade belt at his waist, but no matter how magnificent the attire, it could not hide the fact that these were bridal garments for a woman.

The honor guard outside marched in an imposing procession, and festive music resounded through the streets. Amidst the din, he could vaguely hear the chatter of the crowd. Ordinarily, such loud music would drown out the discussions of the populace, but Mu Wan was no ordinary person. As his spiritual perception swept outward, ignoring the tearing pain in his dantian, the voices of the people became perfectly clear to him.

“So this is the Princess Consort of Prince Jing. I heard that this consort is actually a man!”

“A man? Was it not said that the one marrying Prince Jing was the daughter of the Minister of the Ministry of Revenue?”

“Oh, talk is cheap. Given the current state of Prince Jing, what father would be willing to throw his daughter into a fire pit? Somehow, things changed, and it became that mentally challenged eldest son of their house instead.”

From the chaotic fragments of conversation, Mu Wan deduced that the so-called eldest son was likely himself. Only a moment ago, he had been amidst the chaotic turbulence of a failed attempt to shatter the void; why, then, had he suddenly become a dim-witted eldest son?

While he pondered, a section of text suddenly flowed through his mind. It entered with such speed that before Mu Wan could even deliberate, the contents had already smoothed into his consciousness.

The protagonist of this text was the very eldest son the crowd was discussing, which was now Mu Wan’s identity.

The story began with Prince Jing’s defeat in Lingzhou, which left him physically crippled and paralyzed in the legs. Sent back to the capital, the Prince was left hovering between life and death. Even if he survived, he was destined to be a broken man for the rest of his days.

The young Emperor, saddened by his uncle’s condition, conceived the idea of a lucky charm marriage to improve his fortune. On the surface, it was a decree of marriage, but everyone understood the subtext. The choice of the Princess Consort fell upon the daughter of Mu Zhe, the Vice Minister of the Ministry of Revenue.

The late Emperor had once praised Mu Zhe for his refined and elegant appearance, joking that if Mu Zhe had a daughter, he would certainly betroth her to Ning Bumo, the Prince of Jing. Everyone knew it was just a jest, especially since Mu Zhe’s late wife had given birth to a son, Mu Wan. Furthermore, the Prince had never expressed a desire to marry, so the matter had been dropped.

Now that the young Emperor intended to find someone for a lucky charm marriage, the topic had resurfaced. But Ning Bumo was now a cripple, and Mu Zhe could not bear to push his daughter into the fire pit. After much thought, his attention turned to Mu Wan.

The child had been born with a mental deficiency, and although Mu Zhe had raised him, he had never truly cared for him. Facing a difficult choice, the decision of who to push out was already made. He fabricated an excuse, claiming his daughter was in frail health and that marrying the Prince would bring ill fortune. The young Emperor, perhaps out of pity or for his own reasons, silently consented to the substitution.

Thus, Mu Wan became the first male imperial spouse in the history of the Yong Dynasty. With his father’s rare display of gentleness, he was smilingly pushed into the phoenix sedan chair and carried into the Prince Jing residence.

And now, Mu Wan had become Mu Wan, inheriting this identity.

But something was strange. He could clearly feel the spiritual energy in his dantian, though it was not currently coalescing. This confirmed it was his original body, so how could he have become the eldest son of the Mu estate?

“Because this is the identity I arranged for you in this world,” a mechanical voice sounded in his ear. Simultaneously, a parchment paper resembling a contract unfurled. “Greetings, host. I am System 302, the Main Plot Restoration System. Your failed attempt to shatter the void caused anomalies in the chaotic turbulence, damaging the main plot of this small world. Therefore, the system requires a collaborator to assist in restoring the plot. If you agree, we can sign this contract; once the tasks are completed, you can redeem items from the system store.”

System 302 was clearly a man of action. Without waiting for Mu Wan to ask, it opened its store interface. The goods were dazzling, but what attracted Mu Wan most were the golden items displayed at the forefront. Alchemy furnaces, rare herbs, and spirit stones—these items glowed with golden light, enticing Mu Wan to purchase them.

He truly needed these items. His dantian had been damaged during his failed ascension, leaving him in constant pain. While a cultivator could endure such agony, he still needed to repair his body. However, Mu Wan had immediately noticed that the spiritual energy in this small world was quite sparse, making cultivation difficult. He certainly could not forge an alchemy furnace or search for heavenly treasures. The items in the system store offered an immediate solution, provided he could obtain them.

His gaze fell upon the parchment, and he brushed it aside. “Cooperation is possible, but I do not sign agreements with nameless entities.”

A cultivator’s vow was a grave matter. Once made, it could not be broken. If there were loopholes hidden within, it would only bring Mu Wan trouble.

System 302 paused and hesitated. “But if we do this, we cannot cooperate, and you cannot earn points to redeem my goods.”

“That is simple; I shall draft the agreement myself,” Mu Wan said with a smile.

He had scanned the contents of the previous agreement, and now, channeling spiritual energy to his fingertips, identical text appeared in the void. Moments later, a newly drafted agreement appeared before the system, overflowing with spiritual energy and faintly shimmering with the rules of the Heavenly Dao.

Even though the system knew this host was a legendary genius, seeing this scene left it deeply shocked. It held the agreement and asked reluctantly, “But this does not comply with our regulations. The system requires the host to act according to our agreement.”

Mu Wan, having exhausted a bit more spiritual energy, was resting with his eyes closed. His thick eyelashes cast shadows upon his fair skin, and his slightly pale complexion did not look sickly, but rather imparted a moving, fragile beauty. However, when he opened his eyes, the cold, starlike depth of his gaze made the system subconsciously flinch.

“The requirements are the same, are they not? As long as I complete the tasks, does it matter? Or is there a problem with your agreement?” His smiling gaze settled upon the system, which had manifested as a small cloud. His casual tone made the system tremble.

Still, without Mu Wan, it could not find a more suitable candidate. Forget it, as long as the tasks were completed. The system extended a matchstick-like hand and pressed its name onto the document.

The agreement was sealed. The characters formed of spiritual energy dissipated into the air, yet both Mu Wan and the system felt they had been bound by the Heavenly Dao.

Mu Wan leaned back into the chair, his weak and powerless appearance hiding his earlier sharpness. “Speak, what is the first task?”

Having unwittingly had the initiative snatched away, the system hesitated before saying, “According to the plot, your next task is to humiliate Ning Bumo.”

Although Mu Wan was mentally challenged, he possessed the intelligence of a ten-year-old. He had heard people whispering about Ning Bumo, describing how terrifying the man was—far more frightening than the corporal punishment Mu Wan had endured at home, such as kneeling in the ancestral hall or being starved. Mu Wan had taken these words to heart, though his mind was too undeveloped to grasp what they meant, nor did he understand that he was about to marry Ning Bumo.

When he arrived at the Prince’s residence and entered Ning Bumo’s room, he saw the man lying limply on the bed, his body reeking of blood and his eyes filled with vicious intent. Mu Wan was so terrified that he burst into tears, his fear plainly visible. The insults he had heard—the cripple, the sick ghost—rushed to his lips. Although he mumbled them unclearly, the malice was evident.

For Ning Bumo, who had been devastated since his injury, this was nothing short of humiliation. The forced marriage was not his desire; it was bad enough that Mu Wan was a simpleton, but to keep salting his wounds made it a deliberate mockery.

“Is this plot written by you?” Mu Wan asked, raising his eyes. According to the system, his identity was a fabrication, so the story must be as well.

“According to the settings of your identity, the plot should run its course as intended.” The system, knowing he was not someone to be trifled with, answered cautiously.

Mu Wan stopped speaking, merely saying, “I understand.”

The system looked hesitantly at its host, who possessed an ethereal, immortal aura and looked nothing like someone who would cause a scene. It doubted whether his “I understand” was genuine. Was it possible that the host was so naturally talented that even acting came easily to him?

As they spoke, the procession finally reached the Prince Jing residence. The maids outside called Mu Wan’s name, instructing him on how to descend from the sedan. Apparently, the young Emperor, considering Mu Wan’s condition, had granted permission for these maids to accompany him.

Mu Wan replaced his veil and, supported by a maid, stepped out of the phoenix sedan. As he lowered his head, the maid whispered, “Young Master, please do not hold a grudge against the Master. The young lady is frail and could not bear to come to this den of tigers and dragons. Since your situation is special, you must be more accommodating.”

But who would be accommodating to Mu Wan? Although it was a virtual identity, in this moment, Mu Wan felt the urge to ask. However, he was grateful for the maid’s reminder. The Mu family had earned his favor; the karmas of a cultivator were not something to be easily entangled with.

On the carved bed where a pair of mandarin ducks were depicted, Ning Bumo lay quietly. Listening to the approaching music and footsteps, he opened his eyes, which were still bloodshot. Lately, his mind had been filled with the dismembered remains of soldiers trampled by enemy cavalry. Red silk hung from the rafters, and the red of the festivity seemed to intertwine with the red of the blood, stimulating Ning Bumo’s eyes until they turned crimson.

With a creak, the door was pushed open. Two maids lowered their heads, guided the veiled Mu Wan inside, and turned to leave without lingering. Ever since his injury, Ning Bumo had become increasingly withdrawn, disliking contact and visitors. If anyone defied this, he would not rage, but his bottomless, murderous gaze made everyone avoid him.

The room fell into a terrifying silence. Ning Bumo looked at his wife. He was already aware of the lucky charm marriage and the substitution, knowing that the eldest son of the Mu family was mentally deficient. He was not one to vent his anger on others; if this Mu Wan kept to himself, the Prince Jing residence could afford to raise him.

“Are you Ning Bumo?”

His train of thought was interrupted. Ning Bumo watched the person walking steadily toward him. Although his vision was blocked, Mu Wan seemed completely unaffected, his speech clear and lacking any trace of the supposed mental deficiency.

Once he reached the bedside, the figure in bridal robes leaned forward. The tassels on the veil swayed playfully with his movements, reflecting the personality of his speech. “Why are you not speaking? Did you injure your vocal cords?” He continued, lifting the veil to reveal a beautiful face, adding considerately, “I suppose you cannot lift your hands to hold the measuring rod, so I will not trouble you.”

Every word was considerate, yet every word poked right at the sorest spot. Even the clear, refined face that resembled a jade tree seemed hateful now. Was this Ning Yu’s scheme? To find such a person to humiliate him?

The system beside him said joyfully, “It’s coming, host! The mission is almost complete!”

Mu Wan ignored it, only asking curiously, “Why no response? Did you really injure your vocal cords?” Saying this, he reached out to touch Ning Bumo’s throat. Ning Bumo could not allow such an important point to be approached by a stranger. He reached out to block him, but his speed was far inferior to Mu Wan’s.

Fingers belonging to another landed on his throat, cool and dry. Ning Bumo looked at the person in front of him, suspicious and uncertain, and rasped, “Get out!”

“So you aren’t mute.” Mu Wan murmured, letting go. He then leaned casually against a pillar, seemingly ignoring Ning Bumo’s suppressed rage, and began to set rules. “Since we are now husband and husband, let us discuss my requirements.”

“First, I love quiet. I do not like people disturbing me. Unless necessary, do not let those troublesome people appear before me.”

“Second, regarding food, clothing, housing, and transportation, for my three meals a day, even if not extravagant, I require them to be refined and exquisite.”

As if unaware of Ning Bumo’s increasingly icy expression, Mu Wan finished speaking and added, “Of course, as a partner, I will not let you suffer a loss.”

His gaze swept the room, eventually landing on the twin wine bottles. Pouring a cup of wine, Mu Wan approached Ning Bumo with the glass in hand. Looking at the man’s dark, handsome face, Mu Wan smiled, reached out to pinch his chin, and forcibly poured the wine into Ning Bumo’s mouth.

The scent of his large sleeves filled the air. Completely caught off guard by such a bold move, Ning Bumo widened his eyes as the liquid went down his throat. Before he could teach this audacious fellow a lesson, a violent pain surged through his body. Ning Bumo curled up instinctively, feeling as if his paralyzed legs were beginning to ache.

Seemingly oblivious to his agony, Mu Wan yawned, kicked off his shoes, cast aside the ornate outer robes, and lay down beside Ning Bumo, his voice muddled with sleep. “Do not forget our agreement. Remember to prepare breakfast tomorrow.”

Ning Bumo, who was struggling to fight the pain, had no energy to respond, feeling the world darken before his eyes. Before he slipped into unconsciousness, only one thought remained in his mind: If he survived until tomorrow, he would make Mu Wan regret his words and actions today.