Chapter One: The World of Cursed Treasures

In the western outskirts of Yanzhou Prefecture in the Kingdom of Loulan, there was a patch of marshland, now nothing but ruins, almost entirely forgotten save for the locals who still remembered its existence.

At midday on this particular day, a sudden, anguished cry split the silence of the grassy wasteland. A young man’s voice, sharp and piercing, rang out; his eyes, red as blood, snapped open, glowing with a fierce, incandescent light. His body tensed, poised like a dragon about to strike or a tiger leaping from cover. But the movement instantly tugged at his wounds, and pain wracked his frame.

The youth, Chu Yecai, realized he was lying on damp grass. Nearby, tendrils of greenery and blooming branches swayed gently. He scrambled to his feet, scanning his surroundings—only to find himself amid utter desolation.

“My sister is gravely ill. She needs money for surgery. I struggled to invent a new medicine, and just as I was about to patent it, my doctoral advisor stole my achievement. I raced to the university lecture hall to confront him, but then—an earthquake struck, the hall collapsed… Where am I now?”

Chu Yecai glanced down, startled by his clothes. Instead of modern attire, he wore coarse ancient hemp garments. Reflected in the stagnant marsh water was his own young, unfamiliar face.

“I was a doctoral student… Why do I look as I did at seventeen or eighteen? What on earth is happening?”

Just then, a soft, pained whimper caught his attention. He turned and saw, not far away, a small wild goose lying listlessly on the ground, its body bloodied, one leg trapped in a massive iron clamp. The little goose gazed at him with sorrowful, pleading eyes, stirring his compassion.

Wounded as it was, the goose still struggled to stand.

“Caught in a trap, poor thing?” Chu Yecai, recalling his own sister’s plight, felt a surge of empathy. He carefully removed the iron clamp from the goose’s leg, then searched the area and found several herbs with hemostatic properties. Chewing them to a pulp, he gently applied them to the bird’s wound.

He softly patted the goose’s body, murmuring, “We’re both trapped in this world, forced to struggle for survival. We share the same fate—be more careful from now on.”

In his former world, he’d been born into poverty and was far from brilliant. He poured twice the effort into his studies, never had time for games, and found warmth only in moments with his sister. She was sensitive and compassionate, always caring for injured animals she encountered; it was thanks to her that he’d taken an interest in medicine. But she was later diagnosed with leukemia.

If his sister were here, she would surely cuddle this little goose, whispering comfort and promising to care for it forever…

But where was he now? And where was his sister?

Just as he turned to leave, the little goose struggled upright, tottered forward, and chirped softly, bowing deeply to Chu Yecai as if in human gratitude—only to collapse again from exhaustion. Its gentle cries seemed to express heartfelt thanks for his help.

Chu Yecai froze in astonishment.

“Has this goose gained sentience? What is happening?”

Suddenly, a thunderous buzzing filled his mind. Fragments of unfamiliar memories surged forth, and the outline of a new world unfolded before him.

“So… this is the world of Strange Tales from a Chinese Studio! Here, flower spirits and fox demons rule the land! The original Chu Yecai died, and now I’ve taken his place.”

“In this world, unlike the stories, humans possess powers to contend with spirits and demons. Beyond ritual magic and exorcism charms, humans wield unique artifacts—cursed treasures. With these, even the most fearsome monsters keep their distance.”

“Some cursed treasures are mighty indeed. For instance, the Demon-Slaying Heavenly Scroll: infused with human blood, it can cleave mountains and seas; unrolled, it can reduce myriad demons to ashes.”

“Of course, the more powerful the artifact, the harsher its cost and backlash.”

“Such treasures are rare—most are held by high officials and the royal family.”

At this, Chu Yecai’s heart blazed with longing.

He had always loved classical literature, especially Strange Tales from a Chinese Studio, losing himself in its fantastical world. He admired Yingning, yearned for Nie Xiaoqian; most of the fox spirits, after all, were kind-hearted. Pu Songling had used these stories to criticize corrupt officials and celebrate sincere love, creating many unforgettable heroines.

Yet, more than anything, he envied the wandering heroes—Yan Chixia, or Xie Fangping, who defied injustice for his father’s sake.

If he could possess a cursed artifact, he could roam freely among such heroes, savoring the wonders of this enchanted world. Perhaps, with such power, he could cure any illness—even his sister’s—if ever he could return to the real world.

The thought set his eyes alight.

But his expression darkened as he recalled the real Chu Yecai’s identity and dire situation.

He was the third son of the Prince of Chu in Yanzhou. Born foot-first, the senior consort, Lady Jiang, detested him. His birth mother died early from complications, and Chu Yecai suffered neglect and abuse in the princely household. Lady Jiang slandered him at every turn, accusing him of disrespect and even framing him for abducting respectable women—thus earning the hatred of both the prince and the people. At sixteen, he was cast out to fend for himself.

Worse yet, Lady Jiang had sent people to tempt him into gambling. He fell into debt—a thousand taels of silver, due in three days.

Ten taels of pure silver could sustain a family of three for half a year. Now, living alone, how could Chu Yecai possibly repay a thousand?

Unless… he sold his wife.

His wife was a renowned beauty, coveted by many nobles—her name was Yun Cuixian.

Last April, forced out of the princely residence, Chu Yecai fell into a gambling den, lost everything, and sought luck at Lingyan Mountain. Amid a crowd of worshippers, he noticed a stunning girl of fifteen or sixteen. He feigned piety to approach her, but she sensed his presence and slipped away. Disheartened, he left, only to encounter the girl and her elderly companion on the road. Overhearing their conversation, he learned the old woman’s surname was Yun, her daughter’s name Cuixian, and they lived forty li away. Chu Yecai was exceedingly attentive, finally asking if he could please the old woman.

The woman asked her daughter, who at first said nothing. Pressed repeatedly, she finally replied, “He lacks good fortune and behaves frivolously. I could never marry such a fickle man.” Chu Yecai protested his sincerity, swearing oaths to the heavens. The old woman, delighted, disregarded her daughter’s reluctance and agreed to the match.

They went to Yun Cuixian’s uncle’s house that night and held the wedding. The next day, she bestowed a generous dowry and left them a maid. Yet, despite having a beautiful wife, Chu Yecai remained obsessed with gambling, losing constantly and eventually stealing his wife’s jewelry to fund his habit. Yun Cuixian pleaded with him many times, but he ignored her, growing irritable, so she ended up guarding her valuables day and night, as if warding off a thief.

As his debts mounted, his gambling companion Wang Hai invited him to a rare feast and confided, “You’re actually wealthy. There’s no need to worry about these debts.” When Chu Yecai asked why, Wang Hai replied, “I’ve seen your wife—she’s like a goddess and hardly suited to your impoverished state. Sell her as a concubine, and you’ll get five hundred taels. Sell her to a brothel, and you’ll get fifteen hundred—enough for a lifetime of gambling.” Chu Yecai was overjoyed and, returning home, began acting out—banging tables, kicking benches, throwing chopsticks, berating the maid—putting on a show for Yun Cuixian, who wept daily, powerless to stop him.

With only three days left to repay his debt, Chu Yecai planned to sell Yun Cuixian to a brothel. After finalizing the arrangement with the madam, he drank heavily, lost his way home, and fell, injuring himself—thus allowing the current Chu Yecai to inhabit his body.

Remembering all this, Chu Yecai was filled with fury. He loathed such ungrateful wastrels. “Let him die,” he thought. “From this day on, I will cherish those who are good to me, and let no one harm them!”

But last night, this body had already agreed with the madam to sell Yun Cuixian—she might already be seeking her out. Chu Yecai’s heart clenched with urgency. Gritting his teeth, he raced home, driven by memory, as if his very life depended on it.

He ran like Kuafu chasing the sun, not pausing for breath, despite exhaustion and burning pain—just as he had struggled to save his sister, just as he had stood his ground in the lecture hall. This was his resolve.

After the time it takes to drink a cup of tea, utterly spent, he reached his door—only to find two familiar men waiting: his so-called friend Wang Hai, and a thug from the gambling house.

Wang Hai’s face was devoid of its usual affability; now, it was twisted with malice. “Third Young Master, only three days left. Have you decided? Don’t force me to get rough!” The thug at his side glared murderously.

“So, you’ve joined the casino?” Chu Yecai asked.

“I’ve always worked for them. What of it?” Wang Hai replied, laughing with open contempt.

Chu Yecai noticed Wang Hai’s robust frame, his luxurious clothes, and the distinctive silver-trimmed shoes with the ‘wood’ character—the mark of a servant from the Prince of Chu’s household.

“So that’s it! This was Lady Jiang’s doing all along. They’ve backed me into a corner, tormenting me for the final blow.” The memory of her cruel machinations—hating him from birth, persecuting him without mercy—made Chu Yecai’s body tense, his dark eyes blazing with wrath.

Seeing his blood-flushed face and clenched fists, Wang Hai swaggered forward, eyes piercing, his expression taunting: Yes, I was sent by Lady Jiang to destroy you—what can you do about it?

At that moment, Chu Yecai slowly lowered his head. After a long silence, he looked up again, the fury in his eyes now calm as still water. He drew a deep breath and spoke evenly, “You needn’t worry, Brother Wang. Three days from now, the money will be repaid—on time.”

“Good. Don’t think about running. Our casino’s reach is vast; even if you escape, your wife will be sold all the same.” Wang Hai sneered, flicking his sleeves in threat, and strode away with the thug.

As they disappeared, Chu Yecai unclenched his fists, seeing blood where his nails had dug into his palms.

“I must protect those dear to me, even at the cost of my life!” A flash of murderous resolve ignited in his gaze. Even if it meant mutual destruction, he would never let them have their way. Wang Hai would pay for his deeds—no matter what!