“I’m... still alive?”

Jameson Cross jolted awake from the pain. A few broken wooden planks were crushing his chest, making it hard to breathe.

Then, a wave of messy memories flooded his mind.

He’d once been one of the ten great Immortals of the Lingyun Immortal Realm. By chance, he'd found the legendary artifact — the Devourer Cauldron. That discovery brought the wrath of the entire Immortal Realm. In the battle at Soulsplit Cliff, he was surrounded and forced to unleash Blood Demon Disintegration, dragging all his enemies with him. In the end, the Devourer Cauldron shattered, and so did his life.

Now, he’d awakened here.

“This is... Zhenwu Continent… The Turner Family... live-in son-in-law... a good-for-nothing...”

The new memories told him plainly — he wasn’t in Lingyun anymore. He’d been reborn into another world, into the body of a spoiled heir, also named Jameson Cross. Born into wealth, he lost everything at five when his parents disappeared mysteriously. Since then, he’d grown twisted, cold, hard to control. Even after Lenny Turner, his father's sworn brother, took him in, the boy saw it as a ploy to seize the Cross family’s assets.

As he got older, he grew wilder and more reckless, squandering wealth, acting without restraint. In Canglan City, his name was dirt.

No one in the Turner Family had a good word for him. Waste, leech, scum — take your pick. He didn’t care.

Eventually, Lenny hoped a marriage would settle him down. That marriage was today.

Cross had no right to marry someone like Sophie Turner, but a promise is a promise. His parents had arranged it long ago with Lenny.

Yet when he stepped into the bridal chamber, Sophie kicked him out.

Humiliated, and egged on by some drinking buddies, he stormed into a brothel for the first time. A drunken rage followed, fire broke out, the place collapsed — and Jameson was buried in the wreckage.

Now, pushing aside the broken beams on his chest, he finally got enough room to lie flat and check over his body.

“Someone really meant to kill him. A palm strike straight to the heart... if I hadn’t taken over, he’d be dead already. Who the hell set this up?”

Aside from the bruises and cuts, the real killer was the sinister palm mark on his chest. He remembered drinking with his so-called friends, then nothing.

The heart meridian was severed, but not beyond saving. He needed a Meridian Pill to reconnect it. Luckily, making one wasn’t a problem for someone like him.

“Good thing this land values cultivation...”

This world had its own martial path — Post-Heaven, Pre-Heaven, Cleansing Spirit, Tempering Marrow, True Pill...

And this body? Calling it trash was being generous.

Meridians like thread, clogged with impurities. It was a wreck, plain and simple.“This is tricky,” Jameson Cross muttered, frowning. “All my cultivation techniques are top-tier, divine arts from the Immortal Realm. But in this True Martial World, they’re useless—this place is too low-level. I’ve got to switch to local techniques.”

It was like handing a divine weapon to a newborn—no matter how powerful the blade, the child just couldn't lift it. Unless one reached Bone-Cleansing Stage, there was no way to handle those ancient arts.

He sighed. Embarrassing didn't even cut it.

Jameson tried multiple times, every attempt ending in failure. The tearing pain from his meridians nearly made him black out. If he forced it again, his body would literally rip itself apart.

Then suddenly—

A drop of pure liquid gushed from his dantian and shot through his meridians, spreading to every corner of his body.

His frail, brittle channels drank it like starving beasts. As it flowed, hidden blockages began to dissolve. Relief washed over him.

“What the hell is this?”

He dove into his dantian with his spiritual sense. That liquid—where did it come from?

And there, right in the center of his core, was a black cauldron. Massive. Ancient. The drop had come from it.

“That’s… the Devourer Cauldron. It followed me here…”

He remembered it exploding at the end, just before their deaths. Never imagined it would settle inside his new body.

“Don’t tell me… it had something to do with my rebirth.”

Then—

A heavy spike of black energy burst from the cauldron, slamming straight into his mind.

The gas morphed into dark, ancient script in his consciousness, each character brimming with power, aged and mysterious.

The force of it pushed Jameson’s awareness out of his own body, snapping him back to reality.

No time to process it all—noise came from above.

Bits of stone above him started shifting, light streaming through the gaps. Torches lit up faces crowded around.

“Sir, we found him!” someone shouted.

Several men yanked away the debris. Lucky for him, a crossbeam had taken most of the blow. No serious injuries. The killer had been a palm strike, not the collapse.

They hauled him up. Thanks to the mysterious essence, his body was already recovering. He managed to sit up straight.

“You little bastard! Trying to kill me with worry?!”

Lenny Turner stormed up, eyes bulging, beard bristling. He hadn’t even bothered with a full outfit, just threw on a cloak and ran here the moment he’d heard his son-in-law was buried under a brothel.

But instead of anger, Jameson felt a strange warmth in his chest. He could sense it—Lenny truly cared.

“The good-for-nothing’s still alive?!”

A voice cut through the chaos from the crowd—to Jameson’s left.

Hundreds had gathered, pointing, whispering.

“Damn leech should’ve died! Even heaven missed its chance!”“What terrible luck the Turner family must have, taking in a son-in-law like that. The shame he’s brought… it’s disgraceful.”

“Trash is trash. It’s his wedding day, and he’s out prowling brothels. Went crazy, tore a courtesan’s clothes—nearly caused a disaster. Heaven's blind—why can a man like him still draw breath?”

“….”

Sneers erupted from every direction, like a wave crashing down on Jameson Cross alone.

“Ugh…”

Jameson’s face darkened. He had nothing to say to defend himself.

Lenny Turner’s old face was burning red. He waved for his men to carry Jameson back home. Staying here was just humiliating.

“Hold it!”

A sharp voice barked from behind. Everyone froze.

A madam stormed over with ten guards, murderous looks on their faces.

“Master Turner! Your son-in-law brought down our Red Pleasure House. Dozens hurt, girls too scared to come out. Some of our patrons are still being treated—and you think you can just walk away without a word?”

She was in her forties, caked in thick powder that smelled harsh, enough to choke. Her ghastly face twisted in outrage as she shouted in Jameson's face.

“I’ll send someone later to settle the compensation. We won’t skip out,” Lenny Turner said, throwing Jameson a hard glare. Not the time for scolding—he'd deal with him back home.

“No need. I’ll pay for the damages myself,” Jameson stood up, voice calm. It was his mess; no reason to drag others into it.

“Oh really? With what, Mister Cross? You got coin growing on trees?” The madam sneered, mocking him in front of everyone. Bursts of laughter echoed around.

“Don’t worry. Not a single coin will be short. I give you my word, the Turner family will send the full amount within three days,” Lenny said firmly, stepping in.

At that, they were finally let go.

Jameson’s heart stirred. “Was the old fool I used to be really that messed up? Just look at this… he truly cares.”

Trailing behind Lenny, Jameson stayed silent.

He did feel grateful to the Turners. At his lowest, they'd taken him in. Lenny had even kept his promise and given him his daughter—proof the man had loyalty in his bones.

Dawn was breaking. The Turner gates creaked open. Two servants were sweeping leaves and bowed to Lenny. Jameson? They ignored him.

“Go get changed. Come see me in the main hall later.”

Covered in dirt, clothes torn like a beggar, Jameson clearly needed to clean up.

“Yes.”

There was fear and respect in his voice. If not for the Turner family, he’d have been dead many times over.