After Transmigrating, I Stole The Protagonist's Man - Chapter 1

(Early chapters focus on daily life with a touch of comedy, while the main plot truly begins to unfold gradually in the mid to late stages. Those who dislike this style may skip ahead.)

Shen Yanchu was a vibrant young man who had been living a carefree life. Who would have thought that a sudden transmigration would directly teleport him to an entirely unfamiliar place?

As if that were not enough, when he figured out the situation, he was almost so furious that he nearly ascended on the spot. He had actually transmigrated into that bizarre Danmei novel written by his younger sister!

Come to think of it, Shen Yanchu had long known that his sister was secretly writing stories. Every time she finished writing, she would flash that malicious smile at him, looking just like a cat that had stolen some cream.

Overflowing with curiosity, he secretly opened his sister’s computer, thinking he would discover some epoch-making masterpiece. And what was the result? The role assigned to him in the book was actually a major villain who was frantically obsessed with the protagonist shou!

The moment he saw the final ending, Shen Yanchu’s eyes nearly popped out of his head. His chest heaved violently as if he could spit fire at any second, and that overwhelming anger was enough to make his lungs explode.

He gasped heavily for air, yet his throat felt as though it were being tightly choked by an invisible giant hand, making it impossible to catch his breath.

Right in the middle of this boiling rage, a bizarre flash of light swept past. Shen Yanchu only felt his vision blur, and when he focused his eyes again, good grief, he was directly placed in a completely unfamiliar environment.

Before he could even collect his wits, his body drifted downward slowly like a feather, landing softly. After steadying himself, he instinctively touched his face and briskly walked over to the bronze mirror.

It would have been fine if he had not looked, but upon taking a look, Shen Yanchu froze completely. The reflection in the mirror was hazy and indistinct like ripples of water under moonlight, yet unbeatably familiar, and it was precisely his own face.

Only now, there was a cinnabar mole on his eyelid, which vanished the moment he opened his eyes and reappeared when he closed them. It looked precisely as though a mischievous immortal child had dipped a fine brush in vermilion and dropped the ink right there.

“What on earth is this situation?” He curled his finger to tap against the bronze mirror, then pulled his hand back to poke the red mole on his face.

Instead of gaining any sense of novelty, he was filled entirely with a sense of helplessness.

然而，吐槽的工夫都沒有，沈硯初環顧四周，瞬間腦袋嗡的一聲。

The entire room was draped in brilliant red, including red bedspreads, red curtains, and red double happiness characters. That glaring, dazzling crimson seemed intent on burning his eyes out, and it clearly told him that the plot was already speeding wildly down an irreversible abyss.

“Could it really be that I’ve become Shen Yanchu, the little tyrant of the Taiyi Sect?” Shen Yanchu stared with wide eyes, disbelief written all across his face as he muttered to himself.

He knew the original plot crystal clear, and it was simply absurdly ridiculous. The sect master of the Taiyi Sect, the head of the top ten sects, must have lost his mind to forcefully marry off a son whose reputation was less than stellar. To make matters worse, he even used the name of the protagonist shou, Su Rongyu, to broadcast the news everywhere, widely inviting heroes from all over the world to attend the ceremony.

Now look at what happened; this was practically poking a hornet’s nest. Big shots like the demon lord’s son, the sole true dragon, and the top sword cultivator were all attracted here.

In the original story, when they discovered that the bride was not Su Rongyu, they showed absolutely no mercy and directly pierced his throat with a sword.

At this thought, Shen Yanchu felt a chill on his neck, and only a single thought remained in his mind: run! While there is life, there is hope, and saving his little life comes first.

Although the original host had long been slacking off and acting as a tyrant in the Taiyi Sect, and his cultivation had made zero progress in recent years, remaining stagnant at the Golden Core stage.

Still, he was the champion of the previous Heavenly Ranking Assembly and the second most powerful figure in the Taiyi Sect.

Escaping without a sound would still be a piece of cake.

No sooner said than done, Shen Yanchu scanned the room with lightning speed, spotted a black cloak, and swiftly draped it over himself, wrapping himself up tightly so that he looked exactly like a mysterious person preparing for a night raid.

At this moment, the din of the guests outside grew louder and louder in waves, clearly indicating that the wedding had reached its climax. Shen Yanchu took a deep breath, opened the window on tiptoe, and leaped down in a single bound, landing steadily in a corner of the courtyard.

Fortunately, the night was dark and dim, serving as a natural cloak of invisibility. Relying on the faint memories lingering in his mind, Shen Yanchu dodged left and right, playing a game of hide and seek with the patrolling disciples before finally managing to sneak into the back mountain of the Taiyi Sect.

There was a small path in the back mountain, which was his only escape route right now. Shen Yanchu walked with wind at his heels, wishing he could grow a pair of wings and fly right out.

Yet fate loves to toy with people. Just as he was about to slip past the boundary of the Taiyi Sect’s sphere of influence, a cold wind swept past with a whoosh, followed closely by a cold gleam. Shen Yanchu felt his neck grow cold, and his hairs stood on end instantly.

“Want to run? It is not that easy! Although becoming one of your husbands was forced upon me by circumstances, the sect master’s command cannot be disobeyed. You will obediently finish this grand wedding.”

Beneath the ink-like night sky, a cold voice echoed through the silent air as if it had traversed the abyss of the netherworld.

Shen Yanchu whirled around abruptly, his gaze sharp as lightning. He saw a sword cultivator dressed in snow-white robes holding a long sword, appearing silently like a ghost not far away. It was precisely Xie Huaizhou, the sword cultivator who grew up alongside Su Rongyu as childhood sweethearts.

A flash of complexity crossed Shen Yanchu’s brow. He opened his mouth to explain, but was cut short by Xie Huaizhou.

Xie Huaizhou’s gaze was as cold as ice, and the Hard to Abandon long sword in his hand was already pressed against Shen Yanchu’s chest, its tip flashing with a cold glint as if it could snuff out a life at any moment.

“Today, either you obediently stay to complete the wedding, or…” Before Xie Huaizhou could finish his sentence, the sword tip mercilessly pierced into Shen Yanchu’s chest, and fresh blood bloomed like a red lotus.

The No Return sword that had always accompanied Shen Yanchu seemed to sense its master’s danger and flew automatically into Shen Yanchu’s hand. A cold sneer curled the corner of Shen Yanchu’s mouth, and a hint of disdain flashed in his eyes as if he were mocking Xie Huaizhou’s hypocrisy.

“Isn’t my running away the most beneficial outcome for you? Why put on a facade of high morals?” A trace of sarcasm laced Shen Yanchu’s voice. Gripping No Return, with a speed and force that seemed nearly impossible, he deflected the sword pressed against his chest.

His posture was as agile as a leopard, and he lunged forward toward Xie Huaizhou in a single step. Without any hesitation or second thought, he thrust his sword straight at Xie Huaizhou’s chest.

“There. You stabbed me with a sword, and I stabbed you with a sword. We are even now.” A trace of ease colored Shen Yanchu’s voice, as though the life and death clash just now were nothing more than a game.

“Xie Huaizhou, even if you are the foremost in swordsmanship, when it comes to raw strength, aside from your master, I am number one in the Taiyi Sect.” Shen Yanchu wiped the blood off No Return, revealing only the profile of his face. “If you try to stop me again, do not blame me for disregarding our master-disciple ties.”

Shen Yanchu’s words dissipated into the night wind, and his figure vanished into the deep night like a ghost. His footsteps were as swift as shooting stars as he ran all the way until the eastern horizon turned a pale white, whereupon he faintly caught sight of the outline of a small town looming in the morning mist.

By this time, Shen Yanchu was completely exhausted, his legs feeling as though they were filled with lead and so heavy they could barely support his body.

He finally gave out, collapsing flat on his back onto the cold ground as he gasped for air in huge gulps.

Shen Yanchu no longer possessed his previous imposing air. During his standoff with Xie Huaizhou just now, he had felt as though his spiritual energy was bound, requiring him to exhaust his very heart’s blood just to squeeze out a tiny fraction of power.

He reached out to touch the wound on his chest, and was astonished to find that the gash, which had previously been deep enough to expose bone, was healing at a miraculous speed.

Once his breathing stabilized slightly, he raised his head to look at the brightening sky on the horizon and swore inwardly, “Hmph, wanting me to kick the bucket according to this brain-dead original plot? In your dreams!” His voice was filled with unyielding defiance, as though he were declaring war against fate itself.

Just as Shen Yanchu was about to get up and leave, a thick book suddenly plummeted from the sky, landing squarely on his head without missing an inch.

Rubbing his sore head, he flipped it open and discovered it was actually his younger sister’s novel.

Shen Yanchu’s gaze fell upon the very last page of the book, where four large characters were impressively written: To be continued. Next to them was a line of fine print: “Shen Yanchu possesses a unique bloodline, and is…”

Yet right at this crucial juncture, the text cut off abruptly without any continuation. A thought instantly flashed through Shen Yanchu’s mind: could the rapid recovery of his injuries be related to this mysterious bloodline?