A secluded dirt road.
Huo Yuhao carried a coarse cloth bundle on his back, striding briskly.
The bundle held only two worn changes of clothes and a few coins. It was so light it barely weighed anything. That was all he had managed to scrape together in eight years at the White Tiger Duke's Mansion.
Just yesterday, his love-struck mother had finally passed away.
Huo Yuhao actually felt little sorrow. Instead, it was as if an invisible shackle around him had shattered completely, leaving him feeling light as a feather.
The truth was, he was a transmigrator.
In his previous life, he'd been wandering along a road when he accidentally had an exceedingly intimate encounter with a Dayun semitrailer. When he opened his eyes again, he'd become a swaddled infant.
In the past eight years, he'd tried more than once to take his mother away from that wretched place, the White Tiger Duke's Mansion.
But that woman was stubborn as a mule, as if she'd been brainwashed. She insisted on waiting for Dai Hao to come back.
There was nothing Huo Yuhao, a little kid, could do about it. He'd just had to grit his teeth and endure it for eight long years.
When his mother died yesterday, he hadn't shed a single tear. He'd handled the funeral arrangements with complete calm.
He was a transmigrator, after all.
And he had that mysterious Heavenly Creation Cauldron.
Once he became a god, he could always bring his mother back to life.
The only thing he wanted to do right now was get out of there as quickly as possible, as far away from the trouble-ridden Star Luo Empire as he could.
After running for about two li, Huo Yuhao stopped and wiped the fine sweat from his forehead.
Ten levels of Soul Power wasn't weak for someone his age, but he was still only an eight-year-old child. His stamina had its limits.
Just as he was about to find some shade and have a drink of water,
the grass up ahead suddenly rustled.
A moment later, two middle-aged men darted out from behind a tree trunk. They blocked the road, one on either side.
Huo Yuhao instantly went on guard.
Without showing it, he took half a step back and sized them up.
They wore ordinary coarse-cloth shirts, but their exposed arms were packed with muscle, and they stood firmly on their feet. They were definitely no ordinary commoners.
Had the Duchess discovered he'd run away and sent assassins to silence him?
At the thought, Huo Yuhao silently circulated the Soul Power within him, gathering it in his eyes as his Spirit Eyes Martial Soul quietly activated.
If anything went wrong, he'd run at once—and, along the way, figure out how to use the Heavenly Creation Cauldron to block a blow.
The middle-aged man on the left scrutinized Huo Yuhao several times, then pulled a portrait from inside his shirt.
He looked at the portrait, then at Huo Yuhao.
Finally, he nodded with absolute certainty.
"That's him."
At this, the man on the right took a large step forward.
Huo Yuhao's heart leaped into his throat. He drew a deep breath and clenched his fists, ready to fight to the death.
But then the other man suddenly grinned, rubbed his hands together, and put on what he clearly thought was a very kind smile.
"Little friend, want a wife?"
Huo Yuhao: ?
His nerves, already stretched to the breaking point, snapped.
He stared blankly at the two men before him.
What the hell?
A wife?
Huo Yuhao racked his memories of the original story he'd read in his previous life, but couldn't remember ever encountering anything this absurd when he was eight and had just left the village.
Were there human traffickers on Douluo Continent, too?
Wasn't this business taking things a little too far? They were handing out wives right off the bat?
"Uncles."
Huo Yuhao swallowed and did his best to keep his voice calm.
"I'm only eight years old."
"That's fine. We can take her back and raise her slowly," the middle-aged man on the left replied earnestly.
Huo Yuhao's mouth twitched.
What a bunch of perverts.
"No, thank you."
Huo Yuhao refused without hesitation and tightened the little bundle on his shoulder.
"I'm a confirmed bachelor. I'm not interested in a wife."
With that, he turned around without the slightest hesitation, intending to take a different path around them.
He couldn't stay here. Those two were definitely out of their minds.
However, the instant he turned around,
a sharp, searing pain slammed into the back of his head.
"Fuck..."
His vision went black. His whole body lurched forward and crashed to the ground.
In the final second before he lost consciousness, he was horrified to discover a third middle-aged man standing behind him, gripping a wooden club as thick as a bowl.
No honor among thieves!
There was another sneaky bastard hiding back here to ambush him!
"Done."
The third middle-aged man tossed the club aside.
The three exchanged glances, then deftly pulled a huge black sack from inside their clothes.
"Move it. The young lady's still waiting for us at the border."
"Third, you hit him pretty hard. Don't knock the kid stupid," the man on the left muttered as he opened the sack.
"The young lady specifically told us to bring back this honored guest. If he's hurt his head, we're all done for."
"Relax, I held back. He'll sleep for a few days at most."
The three swiftly stuffed Huo Yuhao into the sack, hoisted it over a shoulder, and vanished into the woods in a flash.
Who knew how much time had passed?
In a warmly furnished room,
Huo Yuhao slowly opened his eyes.
The moment he woke, pain from the back of his head shot through his whole body. Even the slightest movement felt like a needle stabbing him.
"Urgh..."
He sucked in a breath and reached back to feel his head.
Good grief, he'd grown a huge lump.
Those damn traffickers had hit hard. With that kind of practice, he wouldn't believe they'd clubbed fewer than a hundred people over the head.
Huo Yuhao cursed them inwardly, then warily began surveying his surroundings.
The room was spacious, with an exquisite Soul Tool chandelier hanging from the ceiling.
The bed beneath him was unbelievably soft, nothing like the hard plank bed in the White Tiger Duke's Mansion's woodshed.
A faint, sweet fragrance lingered in the air.
It smelled a little like Ju Zi.
So... had he been sold to some wealthy family to be raised as a child bridegroom?
Huo Yuhao braced himself and struggled to sit up.
"You're awake."
A clear voice suddenly came from beside him.
Huo Yuhao's heart gave a start, and he hurriedly turned to look.
A young girl sat in a chair not far from the bed.
Her black hair fell to her shoulders, and her features were delicate. She looked slender and frail, dressed in a clean, simple skirt.
She seemed to be at most ten years old, but for some reason, Huo Yuhao felt that there was something incongruous about her bearing.
She was too quiet.
Especially in the instant he'd turned to look at her, he thought he'd caught a flash of sharpness and world-weariness in her eyes—something that didn't belong to someone her age.
But it had lasted only a second.
He must have been mistaken, right?
Now, when the girl saw Huo Yuhao looking at her, the stillness in her eyes vanished, replaced by bright delight.
She quickly rose from the chair and walked to the bedside, resting both hands naturally on its edge.
"How do you feel? Does your head still hurt?"
Her voice was gentle, filled with concern that seemed entirely genuine.
"Who are you?"
Huo Yuhao shifted backward, his wariness not easing in the slightest.
He desperately called out to the Heavenly Creation Cauldron in his Sea of Spirit.
If the little girl so much as acted suspiciously, he planned to smash the bed and use it as a barricade.
Seeing Huo Yuhao on high alert, the girl didn't get angry. If anything, the smile on her lips grew warmer.
She gently tucked her black hair behind her ear and leaned forward slightly.
Under Huo Yuhao's deeply shocked and bewildered gaze, the girl gave him a gracious, tender smile.
"Hello, Huo Yuhao."
She paused, then spoke with utmost seriousness. "I'm your future wife. My name is Ju Zi."
At her words,
Huo Yuhao's mouth slowly fell open into an "O," and his whole world turned upside down.
What the hell?
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