Dead Just After Transmigrating?

Pain!

It hurt so much!

His ribs seemed to be broken.

Chen Fan lay curled up in a filthy alley, his mouth filled with the taste of blood.

He could feel his life slipping away.

Why?

He was just a woodcarver who sold his carvings.

He had just finished carving a kitten today, so lifelike that a passing young woman had given it a second look.

Just because of that?

At the mouth of the alley, a young master in fine clothes was wiping his boots with a handkerchief, as though he had stepped in something filthy.

His name was Zhao Long.

He was the only son of the Qinghe County magistrate.

"Not dead?"

Zhao Long's voice was airy, with a hint of mockery.

"You're tougher to kill than I thought."

His two lackeys immediately stepped forward, and another kick landed in Chen Fan's stomach.

"Ugh!"

Chen Fan spat out a mouthful of bloody foam, and his vision began to darken.

He was a transmigrator.

He had been in this world, which resembled ancient times, for three months.

He had been cautious and kept a low profile, wanting only to live out his days in peace.

But reality had shown him that staying alive wasn't so easy.

"Young Master Zhao, this kid... he's almost done for," one of the lackeys said, leaning over with a fawning smile.

Zhao Long raised an eyebrow.

"Almost done for?"

He sauntered over and looked down at Chen Fan. There wasn't a trace of pity in his eyes, only pure, sick amusement.

"Did I say you could die?"

"Is your wretched life worthy of deciding whether to live or die?"

An insult.

A naked insult.

Chen Fan's consciousness was already fading, but those words stabbed into his mind like steel needles.

He used the last of his strength to open his eyes and glare at Zhao Long.

"Oh? You still dare glare at me?"

Zhao Long smiled.

He found this even more amusing.

He drew an ornamental dagger from his lackey's waist.

Its scabbard was lavish, inlaid with gold and jade.

"I'm in a good mood today, so I'll send you on your way myself."

He drew the dagger slowly and deliberately.

The blade gleamed brightly.

It reflected Chen Fan's face, covered in blood and despair.

"In your next life, be reborn as a smarter dog."

"Don't get in my way again."

His voice fell silent.

Without the slightest hesitation, the cold blade plunged into Chen Fan's chest.

Excruciating pain.

Then came an unbearable cold.

Darkness.

Utter darkness.

Chen Fan felt his consciousness being pulled away, drifting toward the endless void.

It was over.

I can't accept this...

Just as his consciousness was about to dissipate completely, a voice rang out.

An icy, emotionless mechanical voice exploded in the depths of his mind.

[Host's vital signs have ceased...]

[Golden finger "Death-Substitution Rebirth" activated!]

What?

[Locking on to direct assailant...]

[Target locked: Zhao Long.]

[Priority assessment: direct killing, highest priority.]

[Death-Substitution Rebirth... commencing!]

[Beginning body possession...]

Boom!

An irresistible torrent enveloped the remnant of Chen Fan's consciousness in an instant.

He felt like a meteorite being dragged violently toward a furnace radiating scorching heat.

That furnace was Zhao Long!

[Possession in progress... 1%...]

[15%...]

[58%...]

[99%...]

[100%!]

[Congratulations, host: possession successful!]

"Young Master?"

"Young Master, what's wrong?"

A cautious voice called in his ear.

Chen Fan-no, Zhao Long now-suddenly jolted.

He slowly opened his eyes.

His vision was clearer than ever before.

The air was thick with the mingled smells of blood and earth.

He looked down.

He saw a pair of expensive cloud-patterned brocade boots, speckled with blood.

They weren't his feet.

He raised a hand.

It was a pampered hand, with long fingers, prominent knuckles, and fair skin.

A large jade archer's ring adorned the ring finger.

This wasn't his hand!

His own hands had been covered in calluses and tiny cuts from years of carving wood.

"Young Master, are you all right?"

There was a hint of fear in the lackey Zhang San's voice.

"Just now, you... after you stabbed that kid to death, you just stood there without moving. You scared me to death."

Chen Fan slowly raised his head.

He saw Zhang San and Li Si's faces, both full of fawning concern.

Farther away.

In the shadows at the mouth of the alley, a young woman in a pink skirt was covering her mouth and nose with a handkerchief, terror in her eyes.

That was Cui'er, the concubine Zhao Long had seized just today.

And at his feet...

A corpse lay there.

A corpse with a dagger lodged in its chest, its eyes still open in death.

He knew that face better than any other.

It was Chen Fan.

It was him!

"..."

Zhao Long-or rather, Chen Fan, who had taken over this body-went blank.

I...

Killed "me"?

And then...

I became him?

Death-Substitution Rebirth...

As long as an enemy kills me, I can be reborn in the person who killed me and possess their body?

Chen Fan took a deep breath, suppressing the excitement and exhilaration in his heart.

He had been in this world for three months and had thought he wouldn't get a golden finger. He hadn't expected it to awaken only at the moment of his death.

He was Zhao Long now.

"Ahem."

He cleared his throat and tried to imitate the unruly tone he remembered Zhao Long using.

"What's all this fuss about? Look at yourselves."

The voice that came out carried a trace of Zhao Long's rasp and arrogance.

Perfect.

Zhang San and Li Si immediately bobbed their heads and bowed.

"Yes, yes, yes. Young Master, your might knows no bounds. Killing a commoner is naturally as easy as reaching out and grabbing him."

"It's just that the blood has dirtied your hand."

Li Si smartly offered him a clean handkerchief.

Chen Fan took it and slowly wiped away the blood that wasn't on his hand at all.

At the same time, a vast, jumbled torrent of memories began to surface and merge in his mind.

They were the twenty years of Zhao Long's life.

Feasting, drinking, whoring, and gambling; bullying men and women alike.

Cockfighting and dog racing, lawless and unrestrained.

All the memories appeared clearly before his eyes, like a revolving lantern.

As it turned out, this fellow's father, Qinghe County magistrate Zhao De, spoiled him to the extreme.

Basically, as long as he didn't rebel, he could swagger sideways across the little patch of land that was Qinghe County.

A vast family fortune.

Crowds of servants.

Besides Cui'er, whom he had just seized, there were three beautiful concubines at home.

One was gentle as water.

One was fiery and uninhibited.

One was cultured and elegant.

He had gotten his hands on every one of them through various means.

This fellow was hardly human. He bullied men and women and stopped at no evil; he had committed almost every wicked deed Chen Fan could imagine a foppish second-generation heir doing.

And now, Chen Fan was that villain.

One moment, he had been a commoner at anyone's mercy, dead in a filthy ditch.

The next, he had inherited everything his killer possessed!

Status, standing, wealth, women...

Was this the power of a golden finger?

Chen Fan's thoughts were in complete disarray.

He glanced at "his own" corpse on the ground.

A complicated look flashed in his eyes.

There was a farewell to his old identity, and also a trace of... relief.

The commoner named Chen Fan was dead.

The one who lived was Zhao Long.

A foppish second-generation heir with the soul of a modern man and a golden finger granting unlimited rebirth?

"Get rid of him."

Chen Fan spoke indifferently, his tone perfectly calm.

He had to adapt to this role quickly.

"Yes, young master!"

Zhang San and Li Si answered at once. They hauled up Chen Fan's corpse and headed deeper into the alley with practiced ease.

By the look of it, they had done this sort of thing plenty of times.

Chen Fan turned and walked toward the mouth of the alley.

The young woman called Cui'er immediately came up to him and coquettishly took his arm.

"Young master... you looked so imposing just now."

Her body was trembling slightly; she had been frightened.

From the memories he had inherited, Chen Fan could feel the original owner's infatuation with this woman.

But he felt none of it.

He was like a detached observer.

A new player who had just taken over an account.

He could feel the softness of the young woman's body and smell the fragrance of her face powder.

But not a ripple stirred in his heart.

He had only inherited Zhao Long's memories, not any of his emotions. He was just like a bystander.

"Back to the residence."

Chen Fan uttered the words without breaking stride.

He needed time to fully digest Zhao Long's memories and plan his future.

The effect of his golden finger was somewhat beyond his expectations.

Killed by a silkpants, he became a silkpants.

Then what if...

He were killed by a prince or marquis?

What if he were killed by an emperor?

Or perhaps... killed by a cultivator?

All sorts of thoughts rose in his mind...

Of course, those things were still a long way off. For now, he was Zhao Long, a notorious second-generation silkpants whose power in the county town reached the heavens.

Drunk, he could lie upon a beauty's lap; awake, he could command...

Well, for now, he couldn't command the power of the realm.

But managing the underground order of Qinghe County was well within his means.

The group marched onto the street in a grand procession.

When the pedestrians saw it was Zhao Long, every one of them hurried out of his way, their eyes full of fear.

Chen Fan didn't know how he felt right now.

Was he happy? A little.

But not much.

They returned to the Zhao residence.

It was a sprawling, lavish mansion.

Its vermilion gates bore bronze rings set in beast-head knockers, and two majestic stone lions stood guard outside.

"The young master is back!"

When the household servants at the gate saw Zhao Long, they immediately came forward, nodding and bowing.

Without looking to either side, Chen Fan walked straight in.

Guided by his memories, he crossed the front courtyard with familiar ease and headed toward his own private courtyard, the Listening to the Waves Pavilion.

This was his true nest of comfort.

The moment he entered the courtyard gate, a young maid in green, with delicate features, came running over.

A trace of anxiety showed on her face.

"Young master, you're finally back!"

"What is it?" Chen Fan asked casually.

The young maid leaned close to his ear and lowered her voice, a hint of nervousness and mystery in her tone.

"The master... the master sent someone to pass on a message just now."

"He said..."

"He said that if you keep fooling around, he'll send you to the Azure Yang Temple on West Mountain to become a Daoist priest!"

The Azure Yang Temple?

A Daoist priest?

Fragments of memory flashed through Chen Fan's mind in an instant.

That seemed to be... a very special place.

The only place in Qinghe County with a genuine Martial Dao inheritance.

The original owner, Chen Fan, was filled with fear and loathing for that place.

But to the current Chen Fan...

Wasn't that exactly what he had longed for most since coming to this world?

Martial Dao!

Before he could think further, another woman emerged from the main house, dressed in luxurious robes and possessing a graceful figure.

She was beautiful, though her bearing was somewhat aloof.

It was none other than Chen Fan's first wife, his principal wife, Lin Wan'er.

She was said to be the daughter of a fallen scholarly family, whom Zhao De had used underhanded means to force into marrying his son.

When she saw Chen Fan, there was not a trace of warmth in her eyes, only icy loathing.

Lin Wan'er stopped, her voice as cold as ice.

"Zhao Long."

"Your father wants you to see him in the study."