“I must’ve been blind to marry you! You don’t work, not a damn day. All you know is eating, drinking, whoring, gambling—and now you got beaten into this state! If you don’t want this marriage, then fine, we split. I’m sick of living like this!”
Arya Ashwood was shaking with rage. She poured the medicated wine into her palm and rubbed it hard onto Ethan Ashwood’s forehead.
Two swollen lumps stood on his brow, puffed high like a young bull’s horns.
She pressed down without mercy. Hard. But Ethan sat there like he felt nothing at all. Not even a grunt left his throat.
His face was blank. His eyes were empty, dead and unfocused, as if his soul had wandered off.
“So... I was reborn again. This place is... Earth?”
In his last life, he had crossed over from Earth into Tianyu Realm. There, he inherited the legacy of the Medical Emperor Xuanyuan Sheng—the Sacred Medical Heaven Scripture. He rose to become the most famous divine physician in Tianyu Realm, his cultivation ranking among the top ten on the Heavenly Rankings.
But who would’ve thought—on the night of his wedding, he was ambushed by his own father-in-law, Ali Quinton, sect master of the Mysterious Medical Dao Sect. His new bride, Elaine Ashwood, stepped in front of him and took the killing blow in his place, dying in his arms.
After that, Ethan fought alone against countless experts of the Mysterious Medical Dao Sect. In the end, outnumbered and boxed in, he was blasted to pieces. Body gone. Soul gone. Nothing left.
“I didn’t expect the heavens to give me another shot. Ali Quinton, just you wait. I’ll collect this debt with my own hands. And Elaine’s death—I swear I’ll make them pay...”
But halfway through the thought, his breathing suddenly hitched.
Only then did he truly notice the woman applying the medicine before him.
That face—
It was exactly the same as Elaine’s.
“Elaine! You’re alive? Good... good! That’s great, really great!” Ethan suddenly grabbed Arya’s hand, emotion crashing out of him.
Arya yanked her hand back at once and slapped him hard across the face.
“Are you out of your damned mind, Ethan Ashwood? Of course I’m alive. Unlike you—you’re nothing but a walking corpse!
“And don’t you dare think I’m putting medicine on you because I care. If even a dog I raised got hurt, I’d do the same!
“This is the last time. If there’s a next time, we’re divorcing. I mean it. I’ve had enough!”
She shot him a fierce glare, rose to her feet, and strode out of the room. The door slammed shut with a bang.
Ethan sat there, completely dazed.
No matter how he looked at it, he still couldn’t connect this scene with the gentle, considerate Elaine in his memory. He had never imagined a woman with that same face would strike him without hesitation.
Then the memories of this body finished settling in.
At once, things became clear.
The former owner of this body was also named Ethan Ashwood.
And the woman called Arya Ashwood only looked like Elaine Ashwood.
That was all.
But this Ethan Ashwood was rotten clear through.
A wastrel young master. Weak. Useless.
Drinking, whoring, gambling—he had his hands in every filthy vice.
After he got his allowance cut off for harassing his cousin’s wife, he actually stooped so low he lived off a woman, letting Arya Ashwood feed him and keep a roof over his head.
Last night, he had staggered back after gambling till deep in the night. Bad luck found him on the road. He crossed some street thugs and got beaten to death on the spot.
Ethan truly wanted to grab a blade and slit his own throat. Of all people to be reborn as, it had to be this kind of trash. How was he supposed to hold his head up from now on?
This body was already on the verge of collapse.
Still, Ethan was not worried.
He had the Warheart Formula.
The Warheart Formula was said to have been obtained by Evander Holloway from an ancient ruin. Its grade was unknown, and even then it was only a fragment.
Back then, Evander Holloway had tried to cultivate it, but failed no matter what he did. In the end, he could only record it in the Sacred Healer Sky Canon and leave it behind for later generations to study.
Much later, when the Warheart Formula fell into Ethan’s hands, the mystery was finally broken.
This cultivation art was strange to the point of absurdity.
The more worthless the body, the easier it was to begin.
And its first true gate was battle.
Fight. Temper the body in combat. Rise again and again in the middle of blood and blows. That was how one’s strength transformed.
That was why he, once a supreme good-for-nothing, had clawed his way up step by step until he became an unmatched expert—the legendary Blood Healer Shura.
Now that he had been reborn once more, Ethan discovered that this body was even worse than the one from his previous life.
That was probably the only good thing about this rebirth.
He sat down cross-legged and began to cultivate the Warheart Formula.
Very soon, he felt a thread of warmth appear inside his dantian. That warm current flowed through his whole body. Wherever it passed, every open wound, every hidden injury, started to mend.
But compared with Tianyu Realm, the spiritual energy on Earth was far too thin.
Ethan spent a full ten hours before all his injuries were healed and his cultivation was finally stabilized at the first layer of Qi Refining.
He let out a long breath, turned over, and got to his feet.
The next moment, his stomach growled hard.
Cultivation burned through energy fast. Ethan Ashwood felt so hungry his gut was twisting. Right now, he figured he could eat a whole ox by himself.
He was just about to step out and find something to fill his stomach when a burst of arguing came from outside the room.
He pushed the door open and walked out.
In the living room, Arya Ashwood was struggling with a young man.
Ethan knew him at a glance.
Felix Ashwood.
His cousin.
And last month, the one this body’s former owner had molested was Felix’s wife.
“Felix, let go of me! Do this again and I’ll scream for help!”
Arya fought hard, trying to wrench her wrist free from Felix’s grip. Her face was pale with anger, her brows drawn tight, her breathing uneven.
“I’m not letting go!” Felix’s eyes were red with agitation, his voice rushed and hot. “Arya, my heart’s always been with you. For you, I’d do anything! Ethan’s a useless piece of trash—he’s ruined you this badly, and you still won’t wake up? Promise me. Divorce him. Be my woman!”
“Keep dreaming!” Arya snapped, glaring at him. “Felix, for the sake of all the times you helped me before, I’ll pretend today never happened. Now leave my house!”
“House?” Felix gave a cold, mocking laugh, looking around at the shabby room with open contempt. “This doghole, this place that bastard has nearly gambled clean away, you call this a home? Arya, that waste of flesh has lost his mind gambling! Anything he could lose, he already has. It won’t be long before even this house is gone too!”
He leaned closer, voice lower, uglier.
“Do you know what he said to me last night when he came looking for me?”
Arya’s body stiffened.
“He wanted to use you as collateral and borrow one million from me.”
Felix let out a sneer, as if he were the wronged one.
“I love you so much. How could I agree to that? That wasn’t borrowing money. That was insulting you.”
“Then what happened?” His grin turned filthy. “He lowered the price himself. Brought it all the way down to a hundred thousand. Heh. In his eyes, you’re worth just a hundred thousand…”
“Enough!” Arya’s eyes turned red on the spot. Her voice shook, but the fury in it was sharp enough to cut. “Felix! I don’t want to hear another word from your mouth! Get out! Get out!”
She tore herself free all at once and shoved him toward the door. Her eyes were already wet, her chest rising hard, grief and rage knotted together on her face.
A vicious look flashed across Felix’s mouth.
Without warning, he lunged.
Bang.
Arya was knocked backward onto the old sofa in the living room. The worn cushions sank hard beneath her. Felix pinned her down with his full weight, pressing her tight, not giving her room to move.
“Arya, since you want to be this heartless, don’t blame me for dropping all pretense!”
His face twisted with savage delight. Then he grinned, teeth bared, and spat out a secret like a knife.
“Let me tell you something. I’m the one who had him beaten last night.”
He laughed darkly.
“Too bad that bastard’s life is tough. He didn’t die.”
“What did you say? Why would you do this? You’re family!” Arya Ashwood struggled with all her strength, panic all over her face.
“Family? Who the hell is family with that piece of trash?” Felix Ashwood sneered, eyes full of spite. “He’s not even fit to be my dog!
“I’ll tell you one more secret. I was the one who dragged him into drinking, gambling, and whoring. I was the one who led him to those loan sharks too.
“You could say I shoved him into the pit with my own hands. Well? Surprised? Didn’t see that coming?
“Oh, right. One more thing. He traded you for a hundred thousand. I agreed.
“So now, you belong to me. I can do whatever I want with you. Best accept your fate. Hahaha…”
Felix laughed like a madman and lunged at her, grabbing at her clothes with both hands.
Then, all at once, a sharp pain exploded at the back of his neck.
Before he could even react, Ethan Ashwood had him by the collar and hurled him straight to the ground.
A first-layer Qi Refining cultivator was no longer the same man as before.
Forget an ordinary man. Even some hardened fighters with special training might not be able to stand against him.
Arya’s face turned white. She stood there frozen, watching Ethan drive one kick after another into Felix’s body.
Thud.
Thud.
Thud.
Each kick landed hard, brutal, with no mercy at all.
Felix curled up and clutched his head, screaming without stop.
In no time, he was beaten into a swollen mess, his nose bleeding, his face bruised purple, his whole body covered in injuries.
“It hurts! Stop! Stop hitting me! You’re going to beat me to death!”
“Ethan, you dare hit me? You believe I won’t—ahhh!”
“Arya! Quick! Save me, save me!”
“Good brother, I was wrong! I was wrong, alright? I apologize! Just stop hitting me…”
…
Felix kept begging, voice cracking, but Ethan ignored every word and kept kicking him like he meant to break him apart.
Only then did Arya snap out of it. Her heart pounding, she rushed forward and grabbed Ethan’s arm tight.
“Ethan Ashwood, stop! Stop right now! You can’t keep hitting him. We can’t afford to cross him. If Grandfather finds out, he’ll throw you out of the family for sure!”
Arya Ashwood’s voice was tight with panic. Her fingers clamped around Ethan’s arm, trembling a little. Her face had gone pale, and the fear in her eyes was plain to see.
Felix Ashwood finally dragged in a breath and rolled onto his back. Half his face was swollen, the corner of his mouth smeared with blood, yet he still forced out a vicious grin.
“Hit me then!” he snarled. “Why’d you stop? Got the guts, kill me! You dare? Huh? You piece of trash. Useless cripple!”
He spat blood to the side, eyes twisted and savage.
“Just you wait. I’ll pay you back for this today. I swear I will. I’ll make you and this shameless pair of—”
He never got to finish.
Ethan shook off Arya’s hand in one sharp motion. Then, without a word, he lifted his foot and stomped down hard between Felix’s legs.
Fast. Ruthless. Clean.
A shriek tore out of Felix’s throat, sharp as a pig being slaughtered. His whole body folded up like a cooked shrimp, face turning purple from the pain. The next second, his eyes rolled back and he passed out cold.
Arya’s face turned even whiter. Her body quivered.
“Ethan Ashwood, do you even know what you’re doing?” she said, voice shaking. “Have you lost your mind?”
Ethan glanced at her, his eyes flat and cold, not a ripple on his face.
“That’s my business. Not yours.”
His tone was calm, almost indifferent.
“If he wants revenge, he’ll come for me. Not you.”
With that, Ethan bent down, grabbed Felix by one leg, and dragged him straight toward the door like he was hauling out a dead dog.
“I’m taking out the trash,” he said evenly. “And while I’m at it, I’ve got something to handle outside. Clean up the house for me.”
He paused only a moment, then said in the same plain tone,
“That’s it. See you.”
