Immortal Heart's Strange Rejection, Mortal Body Unwelcome

"She really was a stubborn little fool."

"In this world, if geniuses are destined to exist, then ordinary people are destined to exist as well. If you can't catch up, why insist on chasing? Why force yourself to the point of a smashed head and a body covered in wounds..."

As Jiang Lan merged this portion of memories, he could not help but feel rather conflicted.

In the original plot, when Jiang Lan first appeared, he was a worthless Second Generation Scion who lorded over others, knew nothing and learned nothing, and bullied people by relying on his family's power. He was lustful, arrogant, tyrannical, and terrified of death.

Who could have imagined that in his childhood, he had been humble and courteous, gentle as jade, kind and obedient, with a warm smile—so much so that any young girl who saw him would blush shyly for an entire day.

In order not to disappoint his parents and to catch up to his sister, he had never once allowed himself to slack off.

Unfortunately, when he was nine, an inexplicable grave illness struck, leaving him unconscious for three whole days.

After that illness, he lost all his cultivation and became a cripple who could no longer cultivate.

Even in Jiang Lan's original memories, there was still no recollection whatsoever of that grave illness.

He only knew that after that illness, his body had become incomparably frail, and every so often, he would suffer agony so intense he wished for death.

At first, his mother had summoned all manner of renowned physicians to diagnose him and prescribe medicine, allowing him to find relief for a time.

Until one day, he noticed something strange in the terrified, fearful, apprehensive gazes of the maidservants. Only after pressing them for answers did he learn that the medicine he had been taking was actually human blood...

From then on, he began to resist and loathe taking medicine.

Even when an episode struck and the pain made him wish for death, he would grit his teeth and endure in silence. Even if the pain made him pass out, he did not care.

All he remembered from that time was that the maidservants in the courtyard changed constantly. New people arrived every day, and people disappeared every day as well.

His mother tried to persuade him to drink the medicine, but he remained stubbornly defiant and would not touch a single sip.

It was also the first time he saw his mother—a figure revered throughout the world—wipe away tears as she apologized to him, while even his father could only sigh helplessly beside her.

He could not understand what it meant... He still cultivated diligently every day, hoping to restore his cultivation, even though it had no effect whatsoever.

And what finally crushed the last shred of hope in his heart and plunged him into utter despair was that one day, the sister whom his mother said had gone to an immortal sect to cultivate many years ago suddenly returned.

But the sister of that time no longer possessed the closeness she once had.

Her expression as she looked at him was bone-chillingly cold, so indifferent that it carried not a trace of emotion, as though she were looking at a stinking rat in a gutter, a cockroach or bedbug in a heap of garbage.

At the time, Jiang Lan did not know why his sister had become like this.

He only wondered whether it was because he could no longer cultivate and had become a useless cripple... that she hated him so much.

Then, in the next instant, when he cautiously asked her, the only answer he received was a snow-white, blinding longsword...

The longsword pierced through his chest. A rain of crimson blood sprayed outward, blurring his eyes and staining the falling maple leaves in the courtyard red.

Compared with the boundless torment of illness he had suffered during that period, that bit of pain was nothing at all.

Yet his heart still hurt—hurt so deeply it tore through his soul, hurt so badly it drove one into despair.

All the perseverance and hope he had clung to throughout that time seemed to shatter like a dream bubble beneath that sword thrust.

At the very end, as his consciousness faded, his heart was filled with endless bewilderment and confusion.

Why did his sister want to kill him? That sister who had once been gentle as water and promised that she would marry him once he grew up.

His parents rushed back in time. Although they saved his life, they could never save his heart again.

From that day onward, the Jiang Lan who had once been humble and gentle, kind and obedient, died.

He became the infamous Second Generation Scion of the Great Xia Imperial Capital, indulging in wine and women, casting restraint to the winds, arrogant and tyrannical.

As Jiang Lan merged this portion of memories, although he had not experienced it personally, he could still feel that blazing, intense fury, bewilderment, incomprehension, and finally, the despair of a heart reduced to ashes.

He had merely fallen ill—why had everything changed once he woke up...

If he had not known the plot, Jiang Lan might have shared those feelings, filled with the same rage and confusion as the original owner of this body.

But precisely because he knew the plot, he understood why Jiang Ruxian had ruthlessly chosen to kill him back then.

That so-called grave illness had not been an illness at all.

It was because his mother could not bear to watch him grow increasingly despondent, withdrawn, and silent that she personally acted and dug out Jiang Ruxian's Seven-Orifice Exquisite Immortal Heart.

She then used an Immortal Dao Secret Technique to transplant it into him, deceiving him by saying that Jiang Ruxian had gone to an immortal sect to cultivate while he was sick.

The immortal heart rejected his body and could not abide a Mortal Body. Transplanting it was easy; removing it was difficult.

In the end, it had backfired, forcibly turning Jiang Lan from an unparalleled prodigy into a cripple who could not cultivate and instead had to frequently endure the pain of his heart being devoured.

As for why Jiang Lan possessed no memories of this matter, it was naturally because his mother had erased them with her own hands.

Originally, his mother had intended to erase every memory related to Jiang Ruxian from his mind.

But she feared that doing so would cause problems with his soul, so she had only erased the matter of removing and transplanting the heart.

And Jiang Ruxian, whose Seven-Orifice Exquisite Immortal Heart had been dug out, not only did not die, but survived due to his father's pity and inability to bear it.

Her powerful Immortal Physique even allowed her to reshape an immortal heart, raising her cultivation and strength to an even higher level.

Many years later.

When she set foot in the Imperial Capital once more and found the moment Jiang Lan's parents left Prime Minister's Manor, she returned to the courtyard of old, found Jiang Lan, and struck him with a sword to avenge the grievance of her heart being gouged out.

Unfortunately, Jiang Lan had been hard to kill back then and did not die.

"But whether judging by my understanding of Jiang Ruxian or by the subsequent plot I currently know, Jiang Ruxian will definitely try to kill me again."

Jiang Lan frowned slightly, gently stroking his chest as though he could still feel the heart-piercing pain within.

In the original plot that followed, every conflict between Jiang Ruxian and the protagonist, Lin Fan, had arisen because of him.

Because he died at Lin Fan's hands, Jiang Ruxian lost her target for vengeance, and only then did she vent all her fury and killing intent upon Lin Fan.

Jiang Lan, who understood the plot, naturally knew that this had been a huge misunderstanding From the beginning.

Jiang Ruxian had mistakenly believed that he was the one who had gouged out her immortal heart, which was why she hated and detested him so deeply.

But in truth, what had Jiang Lan known at the time?

He had known nothing. From beginning to end, he had been completely unaware.

Even when Jiang Ruxian ruthlessly killed him, he had not understood the cause or consequence in the slightest. Yet because of it, he had endured years of illness and torment, reduced to a cripple, suffering so much that he wished for death.

In truth, he too had been a victim.

If Jiang Ruxian had trusted him just a little more back then, if she had only asked one more question and cleared up the misunderstanding—

Perhaps Jiang Lan, that modest, courteous, kind, and gentle youth, could have preserved his final sliver of light and not fallen into depravity from that day onward.

But all things in this world are at the mercy of fate, and fate delights in making fools of people.