Daniel

  He woke up gasping.

  The air was hot, perfumed. Sandalwood and chrysanthemum, burning slow and cloying. He sat up too fast and felt silk slide against his skin. He was half-naked beneath a set of embroidered robes—silver with deep indigo trim—and they fit him perfectly.

  His fingers ran over the fabric before his brain caught up. His skin felt different. His breath was quieter. Stronger.

  He touched his face.

  Same cheekbones. Same jaw.

  But not quite the same.

  A ripple of unease crept up his spine.

  He looked around.

  The room was enormous—stone walls framed by redwood beams, dragon motifs carved along every support. Gauze-thin curtains drifted lazily in an unseen breeze. A polished brass mirror stood angled in the corner. Gold-threaded cushions lay across a lacquered bench, and incense coiled from a black ceramic burner shaped like a lion’s mouth.

  He stood.

  No dizziness. No pain. Just clarity. His feet found balance naturally, as if the floor knew how to carry him.

  He crossed to the mirror.

  The face staring back was his… but refined. Sculpted. Taller. Sharper lines. Smoother skin. The magic in this body hummed under the surface like an engine at idle. He blinked. The reflection blinked.

  This isn’t Earth.

  A knock came.

  He turned just as the doors opened—not waiting for a response.

  Two attendants entered: one male, one female. Both bowed low. Neither made eye contact.

  “Young Master Zhou,” the man said. “Your presence is requested in the front hall. The guests have arrived.”

  “What guests?”

  Neither responded.

  Daniel’s heartbeat stayed steady, but his thoughts were already sprinting. He followed without speaking.

  They led him through corridors rich with light and silence. Courtyards passed in glimpses—glowing ponds, tiny bridges, dark-robed guards stationed with quiet menace. The scale of the estate was imperial. He wasn’t just in a new world. He was in the home of someone very important.

  They stopped before a wide set of carved double doors.

  The attendant pushed one side open.

  Daniel stepped through.

  A chamber awaited—opulent, ceremonial, lined with crimson silk and gold ornamentation. At the far end stood a lacquered table with a single parchment scroll unfurled across it.

  The calligraphy was precise. The ink still glistened.

  Marriage Contract

  Zhou Ethan

  (Vivian) Li Meiyun

  He stared at it.

  The doors closed behind him with a quiet click.

  Inside his skull, something shifted. A presence stirred—not like a memory, but like a door creaking open inside a place the mind isn’t supposed to have.

  A voice emerged, low and dry.

  “Hoy-hey you dumbass, can you hear?”

  Daniel paused. Having a voice in his head that wasn’t his own, calling him a dumbass, was a new one.

  “Uh. Yeah. I can hear you.”

  “Took you long enough.”

  The voice cut through Daniel’s thoughts like a wire pulled taut. Calm. Measured. Male.

  Daniel spun around instinctively, though he already knew there was no one there.

  “Who the hell—”

  “Who do you think? You’re in my body.”

  Daniel stiffened.

  His heart didn’t race, but not because he wasn’t panicking. The body—this body—was too well-conditioned, too efficient. His nerves responded in silence.

  “You’re… Ethan Zhou.”

  “Bingo. You win nothing. Except, I guess, my life.”

  Daniel pressed his fingers to his temples. “How are you still here? This doesn’t make any sense.”

  “Yeah? Try waking up disembodied. Let me know how that tracks.”

  He stumbled backward until his calves hit the lacquered bench behind him. He sat down hard.

  “Okay, I can accept transmigration. Even reincarnation. Maybe even a god accidentally killing me and offering me a place on another world with skills and a harem—”

  “What in the hell are you talking—”

  Daniel mentally cut off the voice. “But this is not something I can accept. This isn’t how these things go. I’m not even supposed to be able to have conversations with you.”

  “Congratulations, you’re special,” Ethan said dryly. “And now I’m stuck inside my own body—watching a stranger pilot it.”

  Daniel took a slow breath. Then another.

  “This is a cultivation world, isn’t it?”

  “Where did you reincarnate from? A thousand years ago? It’s a bloodline world,” Ethan corrected. “Refined genetics. Magic inheritance. Cultivation’s for barbarians.”

  Daniel rubbed his face. “Great. Even the ghost in my head is a snob.”

  “Bloodline world. Remember it. Calling someone a cultivator will easily get you into a duel—if not a bloodfeud.”

  A silence stretched between them. Daniel stared at the marriage scroll still lying open on the ceremonial table. The calligraphy had dried.

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  “You were supposed to marry her,” he said. He pointed at the name Vivian Li.

  “No,” Ethan replied, voice cool. “I was supposed to marry Claire Wang, and I did in my first life. Apparently in this one, it didn’t stick.”

  Daniel blinked. “Wait. I thought you were engaged to this Li Meiyun—Vivian?”

  “Not originally. I got bumped over after Caleb seduced Claire.”

  Daniel froze. “...What?”

  “You heard me. New life, new choices. Same bad outcomes.”

  “And you’re just telling me this now?”

  “And when should I have told you? I was waiting for you to stop acting like a guy who hit his head on a manhole cover.”

  Daniel opened his mouth. Closed it again. Then opened it once more.

  “Okay. Fine. Give me context.”

  “Gladly. But fair warning—it’s going to hurt.”

  The moment Ethan said it, the world collapsed inward.

  Daniel didn’t fall. He dropped—his body staying upright, but his mind sucked into a swirl of shattered memories not his own.

  Pain.

  Humiliation.

  A cold bed.

  Claire Wang’s perfect smile—too rehearsed, too sharp.

  Her voice, clipped and dismissive. Her mouth on someone else’s throat.

  Applause that followed his breakthroughs, only to land in her clan’s name.

  Gripping hands. Forced smiles. A whisper against his ear:

  “You’re useful. Not valuable.”

  Then—silence.

  Not peace.

  Emptiness.

  Powerless. Worthless. Cracked at the seams of his cultivation.

  A genius no one feared. A tool they no longer needed.

  Then came the visions—not his, but someone else’s. Secondhand memories wrapped in bitterness.

  A beautiful woman—ice-bound and unyielding.

  A strong man—proud and stupid.

  Their marriage: a war dressed in brocade.

  Fights that rattled stone foundations.

  Magic that cracked walls.

  Then silence again—this time sharp enough to draw blood.

  A divorce sealed under the banner of honor.

  White robes folded with the care of a corpse.

  But beneath all of that—a tremor.

  Something Ethan hadn’t lived to see.

  A rip in the sky.

  Fire bleeding from the cracks. A scream in a language that didn't belong to this realm.

  A war just beginning.

  And the Li family—already dying before the first blade fell.

  Daniel gasped and sat up hard, lungs burning like he'd surfaced from drowning.

  His pulse thundered in his ears.

  The world had already cracked once.

  And this time, someone had to be ready.

  He was on the floor. Sweat beaded down his neck. His pulse still hadn’t risen, but his breathing rasped like sandpaper.

  “What the hell was that…”

  “My first life,” Ethan said simply. “Then the encore, at least until your entrance cue.”

  Daniel pulled himself up with one hand on the bench. “She destroyed your core.”

  “Eventually,” Ethan said. “I gave her everything. My research. My support. My silence. I thought we were building something together—even if I didn’t know how to say it out loud.”

  Daniel frowned. “You were in love with her?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe. I believed in her. That was enough at the time.”

  “And she… cheated on you?”

  “Many times. First with excuses. Then with politics. Then with people.”

  Daniel shook his head. “That’s dumb.”

  “I know,” Ethan replied without flinching. “That’s what makes it hurt.”

  “So she took everything you built, made herself stronger, and then wrecked you.”

  “Correct.”

  “Dumb and tragic.”

  “A winning combination.”

  Daniel looked up at the high ceiling. “So Caleb had nothing to do with her in the past life?”

  “Not until now. That’s why this version is wrong. He was never part of the Wang family. He was with Vivian—and that imploded on its own.”

  Daniel paced again, slower this time. “Okay. So this is a classic setup. Brother swaps. Political marriages. Power plays. White moonlights. Betrayals. I’ve seen dramas that start exactly like this—”

  “What’s a ‘drama’? What are you even talking about?”

  Daniel paused. “Right. You wouldn’t know. Never mind.”

  “Start making sense or shut up. We’ve got bigger problems than whatever fantasy you're trying to project onto this mess.”

  Daniel turned toward the scroll again.

  “So this time, Caleb seduced Claire before the marriages were sealed.”

  “Right. Used magic to get in her head. I watched it happen.”

  “So you got bumped to marry Vivian instead.”

  “Which wasn’t part of the last timeline. Someone changed the script. That’s when I knew something was wrong.”

  “And then I showed up.”

  “You. The wildcard. The transmigrator, I’m guessing.”

  Daniel nodded slowly. “So this isn’t a normal reincarnation cycle. This is… something else.”

  “Yeah.” Ethan’s voice dropped lower, tighter. “This is interference.”

  Daniel looked up at the ceiling, then back to the scroll.

  “You gave her your heart, your trust, and your life’s work. And she gutted you like a fish.”

  “That’s an inelegant way to put it,” Ethan muttered.

  “But accurate.”

  “Yes.”

  “But in your last life, on the outside looking in, you had everything. Top of the world?”

  “I never thought of it that way, but I guess.”

  “And now everything is different?”

  “Pretty much.”

  Daniel turned to the empty space in the room, voice flat.

  “Obviously, you both reincarnated.”

  Silence.

  “I mean, come on,” he continued. “You remember everything. So does Caleb. He’s messing with the timeline. Thinks he’s going to get everything you had in the past life. It’s why he went after Claire.”

  A long pause.

  “Shit. Why didn’t I think of that.”

  Then Ethan exhaled through him, low and reluctant.

  “Fine. Yeah. We’re both back. I just didn’t want to say it out loud.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because admitting it means I have to face the fact that this isn’t fate. It’s a loop. A trap. And someone’s still pulling the strings.”

  Daniel raised a brow. “And here I thought I was the weird one.”

  “You are. You’re the only part of this that doesn’t belong. So the question is—”

  “Why am I here?”

  “Exactly.”

  Daniel exhaled slowly, cracked his knuckles, and said, “So how about we flip the script.”

  “That’s the first smart thing you’ve said since showing up.”