Transmigrate into a Book: The Demonic Path, Where I Raise Wei Wuxian to Be the Top

Wen Shuyu stayed up all night reading Grandmaster of Demonic Cultivation. Heartbroken by Wei Wuxian's ending, he cried himself into a stupor.

When he woke up, he had entered the book.

He had become the frail, quiet second young master of the Wen clan, Wen Ruohan's son and Wen Chao's younger brother.

The first thing he did after arriving was drag his feverish body through the streets of Yiling in a raging snowstorm,

searching until he found four-year-old Wei Ying cornered by wild dogs, clutching half a moldy steamed bun, and leading him home.

“Wei Ying, I'll protect you in this life.”

From that day on, the Wen clan had a second young master who shunned contention,

the side courtyard had a half-dead jujube tree, and beneath it grew a boy who was lovingly raised.

That person made sure he was fed and clothed, protected him by teaching him to hide his talents and avoid danger, and swore over his mother's dying sword, “He is my bottom line.”

When he was gravely wounded shielding him from a blade, he gently pushed him away. “...Back.”

He didn't know why that person's hands were always cold, why he never seemed to finish his medicine,

and he knew even less that his future had already been written, line by line, in an old journal.

Until he opened the old wooden box and saw a “prophecy” written in simplified characters:

The Sunshot Campaign, the bloodbath at Nevernight, the siege of the Burial Mounds, death in body and soul.

“Brother Huaijin, who are you, really?”

“Someone who cried for you in another world.”