After the Swordmaster Was Reborn as a Little Fool

When Hua Zhuo was alive, his only wish was to carry on the aspirations of those who came before him and preserve peace in the cultivation world for generations to come.

Once everything was settled, he would find a secluded place and sleep forever. He'd had more than enough of the cultivation world's endless messes. Whoever wanted to deal with them could do so. He couldn't take it anymore.

So, at the final, life-or-death moment for the cultivation world, he resolutely sacrificed all his life's cultivation and died heroically.

As his eyes were closing, his disciples wept their hearts out, as though he were some great hero.

Ha! What hero? He just didn't want to live anymore.

What surprised him was that even his usually cold and irritating junior brother had red eyes and trembling lips, shedding tears nonstop as though Hua Zhuo were someone important to him.

His junior brother seemed to be saying something to him. What was it...?

It was the first time he'd ever seen this man so distraught. He actually wanted to hear what he was trying to say, but it was already too late.

Darkness filled his vision, and his soul fell into eternal night.

.

He closed his eyes, then opened them, and Hua Zhuo was alive again.

He'd only shut his eyes for a moment, but the world had turned, and a hundred years had passed in the blink of an eye.

The body he'd awakened in was young and healthy, and looked just like him.

There was only one problem: the body's original owner seemed to be an idiot.

He was annoyed for two days, but soon found himself enjoying it.

As an idiot, he could go on a rampage and curse out anyone he disliked. As an idiot, he didn't have to deal with official business. As an idiot, he could sleep until the sun was high in the sky and no one would think it strange.

Being an idiot was great. He loved this life.

Hua Zhuo, who had been bent on dying, began to feel how beautiful life could be.

Being dead was nice, but being alive didn't seem so bad either. He wasn't sure. He'd live a little longer and see.

But Hua Zhuo hadn't enjoyed his good days for long when his clansmen bundled him up and sold him to an old man from a certain sect.

Apparently, the man was a widower who'd lived for hundreds of years, and Hua Zhuo looked exactly like the deceased wife in his painting.

Hua Zhuo didn't run. He planned to rid the world of a menace, chop the shameless old man down, and then make his escape.

That night, he put on a red wedding robe and a veil, and waited for the old man until his eyelids grew heavy and he was about to fall asleep. Then he heard an angry scolding outside the door:

"Who told you to arrange this?"

The voice sounded a little familiar, like that of his cheap junior brother.

The man hurried in and lifted Hua Zhuo's veil. Clearly displeased, he still kept his temper in check and spoke to him politely enough. "I have no intention of marrying again. You..."

They both froze.

Hua Zhuo was stunned because he hadn't expected this to actually be his cheap junior brother.

Yue Lou stared at his face, his knuckles going white around the veil.

After a long while, he seemed to find his voice again and rasped, "I have no intention of marrying again... Have you taken a master?"

This wasn't a question. He didn't give Hua Zhuo time to answer, speaking quickly as if afraid he'd run away. "The discipleship ceremony is tomorrow. Get ready."

With that, he turned and left, leaving Hua Zhuo standing there in utter confusion.

Hua Zhuo: ?

.

Only later did Hua Zhuo learn that after he died, his junior brother, who had never gotten along with him, had held his memorial tablet and insisted on holding a wedding ceremony with it.

He'd done it so that, once they were both dead and he reached the King of Hell, he could ask: Is my wife here?

Sharp-tongued, foul-tempered, world-weary, depressive bottom × seemingly cold but truly devoted, overthinking, tsundere top

Hua Zhuo is the bottom, Yue Lou is the top

--2024.5.11

Theme: With flowers, one can pour wine; without the moon, one does not ascend the tower