Joseph_Etta_0808

Synopsis
I died. Again.
Not in some dramatic battle or noble sacrifice—but by slipping in the bathroom of a dingy apartment back on Earth. Tragic, I know. But hey, at least the universe gave me a second chance.

Now I’ve reincarnated into the body of a spoiled young master from one of the richest clans in the cultivation world. He was arrogant, lazy, and hated by everyone—including his own servants. Luckily, he died. Even luckier, I took over.

With his absurd wealth, a powerful cultivation base (that he barely used), and a body sculpted like a playboy’s dream, I’ve got everything I need. Oh—and did I mention he was a dual cultivator with a “Heaven-Grade Yin Physique” that makes women... curious?

But I’m not here to play the fool. I’m rewriting the script—starting with payback on everyone who ever looked down on me. And maybe “cultivating” a few beautiful companions along the way.

Power, women, enemies, and a mouth that always gets me in trouble…
This is going to be fun.

Void Flame Reincarnate: I Cultivate, I Conquer, I Climb Beds

Night fell fast in the Whispering Vale.

They were from spirits—twisted, broken things that once had names and hopes.

The masked figure stood at the forest's edge. Behind him, a dozen flame-corrupted spirits crawled from the shadows—each one once a cultivator, now nothing but charred regret wrapped in spiritual fire.

She charged first, blade glowing bright with resolve.

She moved like fury—precise, clean, beautiful.

Until three spirits cornered her, whispering:

For the first time in battle—Lan Ruo hesitated.

It bounced off a tree and smacked him in the face.

"Zhao, hold the left flank!" I shouted.

Qing'er fought silently—her flame cold, focused.

But as she battled a spirit cloaked in sorrow, it hissed:

I felt something snap inside her—something hidden.

The pendant around her neck shattered.

Pure. Sharp. Like moonlight wrapped in fire.

The spirit screamed as Qing'er's new flame consumed it entirely.

Qing'er's eyes glowed—bright and terrifying.

"I'm not a spark," she said coldly.

Lan Ruo finally broke through her hesitation, eyes filled with tears.

"I hate you," she whispered at no one.

Then she slashed through her enemies with reckless grace.

"You wanted a trial? Here's mine."

> "Let's see what Ashen's legacy truly means."

He rushed me—faster than before.

His spirit fire lashed at my memories.

Then—he placed the Void Flame in her chest.

He saw my hesitation—and drove a fist of flame into my stomach.

> "Now you see," he said. "She was always meant to carry the flame."

> "You're just holding it for her."

"No," she said. "He chose me to carry it—but he lit it."

The masked figure screamed as his mask cracked.

For the first time since we entered the Vale—silence.

We collapsed by the spirit spring.

Lan Ruo curled into herself, blade across her lap.

Qing'er sat beside me, flame dimming.

"No," she said. "But I'm real now."

Judgment of the Echoes