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... a bucket filled with water meant for washing herbs. My reflection stared back at me from the still surface. I tilted my head, studying the details that came into view.

"Hmm... wait a minute," I muttered, leaning closer to the water.

Arkan's face—or rather, my new face—wasn't bad at all. Compared to how I looked back on Earth, I was definitely more handsome now. My slightly messy black hair gave off a relaxed vibe, and my sharp gray eyes carried a mysterious charm. The only probl ...

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A certain university’s history lecturer received a graduation thesis depicting the legend of Huo Wujiu, and he wrote a full page of criticism for the student.

Then he blinked, and he was transmigrated into the body of that cutsleeve prince.

There were lanterns and decorations everywhere. A man came, sending word that the disabled general of the enemy state had already entered the manor in his wedding sedan.

As he looked at the General Huo in front of him, taking in his malicious gaze, his tortured state, clad in a red wedding gown, Jiang Suizhou realised that even legends can come true.

This legend could even cause him to be beheaded in public in the future, with his head hung on the city walls for three years.

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In spite of the hidden arrows of the court’s political agendas and the incapable ruler’s endless attempts to humiliate him, he could only bite the bullet and bear the brunt of it; his only wish was that after three years, he could protect his own head.

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He didn’t just slaughter the incapable ruler and unite the land under the heavens, but he also climbed into his own bed and pinned him down with a heated gaze, stubbornly wanting to establish his status as a concubine.