A deafening clap of thunder seemed to explode right beside his ear, jolting Lu Hanzhi awake with a shudder.
He hadn’t even fully escaped the lingering nightmare of the shipwreck’s raging waves before the searing pain in his body sent cold sweat dripping down his back.
Dazed, he lifted his head, only to be met with more than a dozen pairs of eyes—some filled with pity, some with sympathy, and others with sorrow.
What was going on? Had he died in the shipwreck only to be dragged into some kind of posthumous tribunal?
And why did the lineup seem off? Where were the Ten Kings of Hell? The man at the head of the group didn’t look like a judge of the underworld—he looked more like a wealthy patriarch.
Lu Hanzhi rubbed his throbbing temples, trying to sit up, but the sharp, tearing pain in his body forced him back down, making him collapse heavily onto the bed.
He trembled as he clutched the pillow. Damn it, was this some kind of pre-trial torture before judgment even began?
When he looked up again, he saw a woman kneeling beside the bed. Her eyes were red and swollen, filled with deep distress as she gazed at him with heartache.
Above him, the man at the head of the group suddenly roared, “This is the fine son you raised! Doing something like this, and you still have the nerve to cry?”
The woman flinched but remained kneeling. Then, with unexpected force, she shot back, “And you dare blame me? Do you think you have no responsibility in this? You knew perfectly well that Han’er can’t drink! Who was it that gave him rice wine soup?”
The man’s face turned red with anger, his neck thick with frustration. He slammed his palm against the table, making the teacups rattle and nearly topple over.
The loud bang startled Lu Hanzhi, making him flinch.
A young man standing to the side looked visibly anxious, as if he wanted to step forward to help Lu Hanzhi. But instead, he turned to the middle-aged man at the head of the room and said, “Father, Hanzhi just gave birth not long ago. If you keep hitting him like this, are you trying to kill him? Han’er has always been your most cherished son. Even if he made a mistake, do you truly not care if he dies?”
Responsibility? Drinking? Rice wine soup?
Something about this scene felt oddly familiar.
A sudden thought struck Lu Hanzhi—could he have… transmigrated?
As an avid reader who spent countless hours immersed in web novels, the concept of transmigration was nothing new to him.
Hearing the young man’s words, the middle-aged man stomped his foot in anger and snapped, “It’s all because you older brothers spoiled him! You, and Chenzhi! If either of you had kept him in check, he wouldn’t have done something so outrageous!”
The young man named Chenzhi lifted his head and gave the middle-aged man a calm glance. Then, he looked toward Lu Hanzhi with an expression full of pity and said coolly, “Father, that’s not entirely fair. You were the one who spoiled Hanzhi the most.”
The middle-aged man: “You—!”
He was so choked by those words that his face turned crimson, unable to find a retort.
The only person seated in the room, the Old Madam, let out a long sigh and murmured, “A sin… truly a sin.”
Beside her stood a young girl in a pale yellow gauze dress. She had bright eyes and delicate features, her small frame radiating an innocent and ethereal charm, like a celestial maiden’s attendant. Yet, there was a subtle softness in her demeanor that made her all the more alluring.
She stepped forward and gently consoled the Old Madam in a soft, soothing voice. “Grandmother, please don’t be angry. It’s not good for your health.”
The Old Madam looked at Lu Hanzhi with deep disappointment in her eyes. She lifted a hand as if to say something but ultimately shook her head heavily, remaining silent.
At this point, Lu Hanzhi finally understood. He must have committed some grave, unforgivable offense and was now being punished under family law.
This immediately reminded him of a novel he had just finished reading a few days ago—an indulgent, melodramatic web novel called <Struggle for the Throne>. And the cast of characters in this scene… matched up almost perfectly.
In that novel, there was a cannon-fodder villainous supporting character who had a name almost identical to his—Lu Hanzhi.
Back when he was reading, he had even scoffed at the name, thinking, Hanzhi, Hanzhi—just hearing it sounds improper. No wonder he was nothing more than a plaything for men.
At that moment, the Old Madam stood up, clearly unwilling to involve herself any further in the matter. With another weary sigh, she said, “Enough. The Lu family simply doesn’t have this kind of fortune. Handle it among yourselves. I’m tired. Wan’ning, help me back to my room to rest.”
Su Wan’ning obediently responded, stepping forward to support the Old Madam as she rose to leave.
But just before stepping out, she turned and glanced at Lu Hanzhi with a hint of provocation in her eyes. That once-gentle and docile face now carried an almost imperceptible look of triumph at the corners of her eyes and lips.
That expression did not match the innocent and obedient image she presented at all.
Lu Hanzhi frowned slightly, feeling an instinctive aversion toward the girl.
The Old Madam had called her Wan’ning… Su Wan’ning?
That name only confirmed his suspicion.
He really had transmigrated into that over-the-top melodramatic novel.
And not just anywhere—but into the villainous supporting character Lu Hanzhi, the one who hadn’t even survived halfway through the story.
This was truly…
Transmigrating into a book wasn’t scary. Getting caught in a messy love entanglement wasn’t scary either.
What was terrifying was that the person he had become in this novel only survived until Chapter 72—not even a third of the way through the story—before being personally executed by the male lead.
Even more horrifying was the fact that this person, Lu Hanzhi, had been specifically raised to become a Xiao Langjun. Not only could he go into heat, but he could also give birth to children.
Based on the book’s plot, the reason he had been beaten so badly and was now being subjected to a three-court interrogation was that he had accidentally lost his virginity and given birth to a child whose father was unknown.
Note: Xiao Langjun is referred to the men who can give birth. Xiao is small or little, just a term of endearing which can be eliminated at times. So Langjun will always mean this kind of men who can give birth.
In noble families, Xiao Langjuns were meant to be wed into influential households for political alliances. A Langjun losing his chastity and giving birth to a bastard was an even greater disgrace than a young lady losing her virtue.
At that point, forget about getting married—he would be abandoned by his family, cast out onto the streets, and left to fend for himself.
In the novel, Xiao Langjuns were described as delicate, soft, and alluring.
And this Lu Hanzhi was the most exquisite of them all—the pinnacle of beauty in the capital, a natural-born seductress.
Lu Hanzhi himself had been a small-time gay reader, a bottom through and through. When he had read this book, he had practically drooled over it. Especially during the spicy scenes—those had been pure bliss.
As he read, he couldn’t help but think: Damn, what a life. What a damn good life. Give me another bowl of this!
But if that little seductress turned out to be himself… now that was a different story.
Who the hell wanted to be a Xiao Langjun? Who wanted to give birth? And who, for the love of god, wanted to abide by those damnable virtues of obedience, fidelity, and servitude to a husband?!
But no matter how much he wanted to throw a tantrum, it was useless. According to the story’s timeline, by now, he should have already been forced into intercourse and successfully given birth to a child.
Later, when the crown prince was selecting concubines, Lu Hanzhi, desperate to protect his reputation and future, had personally strangled his own son to death.
That decision had won him a place in the Eastern Palace as a favored consort, but it had also changed him completely. He became ruthless and venomous, using his beauty to manipulate and destroy.
He committed countless evil deeds, helping pave the way for the crown prince’s ambitions. But his jealousy toward the female lead drove him to sabotage her at every turn.
In the end, after drugging the female lead and causing her to miscarry, Lu Hanzhi was personally executed by the crown prince.
A character whose sole purpose was to be served up as cannon fodder. Lu Hanzhi couldn’t help but applaud him.
As someone from the 21st century—used to navigating the cutthroat workplace, office politics, and backstabbing—Lu Hanzhi felt nothing but sorrow at this moment.
From now on, he could only live as Lu Hanzhi in this book.
But unlike the other Xiao Langjuns who eagerly fought for a place in the Eastern Palace, he had no interest in such things. His only goal was to survive this battlefield of deceit and cruelty.
So he began to think—how could he escape from the main plot?
At that moment, a woman who had been kneeling on the ground approached him. With trembling hands, she gently stroked Lu Hanzhi’s back, her voice quivering, “Han… Han’er, why… why must you do this to yourself?”
Lu Hanzhi raised his head and glanced at the woman. She had a dignified and imposing presence, though the slight downturn of her lips gave her a stern and domineering air.
In the novel, the legitimate wife of the Lu family had not had an easy life. The Lu patriarch had taken in three concubines, each younger and more beautiful than the last.
They paraded in front of her daily, making her sick to her stomach.
Especially Aunt Du—who had grown arrogant due to her favor. Her son, the fourth young master, Lu Haozhi, had even been permitted to be raised as a Xiao Langjun. Because of this, Aunt Du constantly provoked and challenged the main wife, both openly and secretly.
Fortunately, Lu Hanzhi had lived up to expectations. He was naturally intelligent and breathtakingly beautiful, known as the most stunning person in the capital. A small cinnabar mole adorned the corner of his eye, making him irresistibly seductive, a beauty capable of ensnaring souls.
Unfortunately, his actions later in the story had been utterly ruthless.
Especially when it came to framing the female lead—he had brought disaster upon himself at every opportunity.
He stabbed the person dearest to the crown prince right in the heart, delivering himself up as a sacrificial pawn at lightning speed.
Lu Hanzhi grasped the woman’s hand, his inner drama skills instantly kicking in.
He lifted his head, scanning the gathered crowd before letting out a cold laugh and turning to look at Madam Lu.
His voice, hoarse and weak, carried a mocking tone. “You’re not seriously expecting me to enter the Eastern Palace as a consort, are you? Do you still think you can use me to uphold the Lu family’s honor?… How ridiculous. The Lu family’s honor—does it really depend on a man’s ass?”
The original Lu Hanzhi had been spoiled rotten. Even after committing such a scandalous act, expecting him to admit fault was out of the question.
So no one was particularly surprised by his defiant words.
However, Patriach Lu was so enraged that he trembled all over, jabbing a finger at Lu Hanzhi in fury. For a long moment, he could only stammer incoherently before finally choking out two sentences: “You… You…! You did something so disgraceful! And yet you still show no remorse?! I should have beaten you harder!”
Madam Lu’s tears fell instantly. She feared Patriach Lu would hit her again if she so much as moved.
Just because she had been a step too slow, her beloved son, Han’er, had been ruthlessly beaten by his father—egged on by that shameless Aunt Du!
She would settle this debt with her, sooner or later.
At this moment, Madam Lu held Lu Hanzhi tightly in her arms and sobbed, “My son! If I had known it would come to this, I would never have raised you as a Xiao Langjun. If you had followed the path of your second brother, becoming a scholar, or even just lived an ordinary life as a wealthy young master, it would have been fine. But now… what will become of you? How will I survive this?” With that, she buried her face against Lu Hanzhi’s chest and wept bitterly.
At this point in the story, it was clear that Madam Lu truly loved her son.
And yet, later on, even she stood by the female lead’s side, watching indifferently as her son sank deeper and deeper. Even when the Crown Prince eventually had him killed, she refused to claim his body, leaving him to rot in the wilderness.
The book described how his corpse was devoured by crows and wild dogs, yet no one from the Lu family came to retrieve his remains.
For a mother who had once cherished her son as though he were the apple of her eye, this was simply incomprehensible.
According to the story, Madam Lu had three sons. Her eldest son followed in his father’s footsteps, inheriting the family business.
As imperial merchants, the Lu family needed a legitimate heir to uphold their name.
Her second son was exceptionally bright, a natural scholar, and took the imperial examinations.
Her youngest son, however, had no remarkable talents—but he was born with an extraordinarily beautiful face.
From the moment he was born, Madam Lu treasured him beyond measure.
She feared he would melt if held too gently, feared he would shatter if held too tightly.
Even Patriach Lu adored him, often keeping him by her side.
When he was seven or eight, they consulted a fortune-teller, who said he was well-suited to serve as a Xiao Langjun.
So, from the age of eleven, he was given sacred medicines, blossoming into a stunningly handsome Xiao Langjun.
Until the day the Su family’s young lady sought refuge with them after her family’s downfall, Lu Hanzhi had been the most pampered and indulged child in the household.
Su Wan’ning had lived in the Lu residence for three years.
In that short time, Lu Hanzhi’s status had plummeted. Not long ago, he had been the treasured young master. Now, he was nothing more than a disgraced, abandoned child.
It was a pitiful sight.
At this moment, Lu Hanzhi’s mind raced, rapidly calculating his next move.
Then, he looked up and weakly said to Madam Lu, “Mother, may I see Ah Chan?”
If he remembered correctly, the child he had given birth to was named Ah Chan.
Ah Chan had been born in the season when cicadas cried.
Lu Hanzhi had never liked the child, so he casually gave him the name “Ah Chan.”
Not long after the baby was born, an imperial decree arrived at the Lu residence, summoning him to become a royal consort. He had personally ended the child’s life that very night.
By his estimate, that event was only a few days away.
Madam Lu seized the opportunity, using the excuse of persuading Lu Hanzhi to dismiss the servants from the room.
Once they were alone, she lowered her voice and said, “Han’er, don’t worry. I’ve taken care of everything. The maids and servants in your room—whether they knew the truth or not—I will deal with them all. The ones who were here just now won’t dare to spread such disgraceful matters outside. As long as… as long as Ah Chan is sent away, you will still be our Xiao Langjun, unrivaled in this world.”
Upon hearing this, Lu Hanzhi immediately protested, “No, that won’t work… Mother, you mustn’t send Ah Chan away!”
At that moment, the sound of a baby’s cries reached his ears.
Su Wan’ning, who had just escorted the Old Madam away, had returned.
Her clothes carried the dampness of the rain.
Outside, thunder rumbled, and the downpour seemed to intensify.
She held a frail, weak infant in her arms and stepped forward, saying, “Aunt, allow me to speak with cousin Hanzhi.”
Madam Lu frowned, looking up at Su Wan’ning. She seemed about to lose her temper, but the moment she met Su Wan’ning’s gaze, her expression softened: “Very well, he has always been stubborn. Talk to him properly.”
Su Wan’ning nodded obediently, escorting Madam Lu out of the room.
Lu Hanzhi’s brows furrowed. Something felt off.
By the time he realized it, Su Wan’ning had already taken a seat across from him.
Her voice was soft, gentle: “This morning, I entered the palace to comb the Empress’s hair. While I was there, I overheard something. Cousin, would you like to know?”
Lu Hanzhi instinctively looked up at her. Just then, an eerie notification echoed in his mind: “Auto-block activated. One instance of active mental attack has been blocked. This one is free. Two uses remain.”
