“I must’ve been blind to marry you! You don’t work, not a damn day. All you know is eating, drinking, whoring, gambling—and now you got beaten into this state! If you don’t want this marriage, then fine, we split. I’m sick of living like this!”

Arya Ashwood was shaking with rage. She poured the medicated wine into her palm and rubbed it hard onto Ethan Ashwood’s forehead.

Two swollen lumps stood on his brow, puffed high like a young bull’s horns.

She pressed down without mercy. Hard. But Ethan sat there like he felt nothing at all. Not even a grunt left his throat.

His face was blank. His eyes were empty, dead and unfocused, as if his soul had wandered off.

“So... I was reborn again. This place is... Earth?”

In his last life, he had crossed over from Earth into Tianyu Realm. There, he inherited the legacy of the Medical Emperor Xuanyuan Sheng—the Sacred Medical Heaven Scripture. He rose to become the most famous divine physician in Tianyu Realm, his cultivation ranking among the top ten on the Heavenly Rankings.

But who would’ve thought—on the night of his wedding, he was ambushed by his own father-in-law, Ali Quinton, sect master of the Mysterious Medical Dao Sect. His new bride, Elaine Ashwood, stepped in front of him and took the killing blow in his place, dying in his arms.

After that, Ethan fought alone against countless experts of the Mysterious Medical Dao Sect. In the end, outnumbered and boxed in, he was blasted to pieces. Body gone. Soul gone. Nothing left.

“I didn’t expect the heavens to give me another shot. Ali Quinton, just you wait. I’ll collect this debt with my own hands. And Elaine’s death—I swear I’ll make them pay...”

But halfway through the thought, his breathing suddenly hitched.

Only then did he truly notice the woman applying the medicine before him.

That face—

It was exactly the same as Elaine’s.

“Elaine! You’re alive? Good... good! That’s great, really great!” Ethan suddenly grabbed Arya’s hand, emotion crashing out of him.

Arya yanked her hand back at once and slapped him hard across the face.

“Are you out of your damned mind, Ethan Ashwood? Of course I’m alive. Unlike you—you’re nothing but a walking corpse!

“And don’t you dare think I’m putting medicine on you because I care. If even a dog I raised got hurt, I’d do the same!

“This is the last time. If there’s a next time, we’re divorcing. I mean it. I’ve had enough!”

She shot him a fierce glare, rose to her feet, and strode out of the room. The door slammed shut with a bang.

Ethan sat there, completely dazed.

No matter how he looked at it, he still couldn’t connect this scene with the gentle, considerate Elaine in his memory. He had never imagined a woman with that same face would strike him without hesitation.

Then the memories of this body finished settling in.

At once, things became clear.

The former owner of this body was also named Ethan Ashwood.

And the woman called Arya Ashwood only looked like Elaine Ashwood.

That was all.

But this Ethan Ashwood was rotten clear through.

A wastrel young master. Weak. Useless.

Drinking, whoring, gambling—he had his hands in every filthy vice.

After he got his allowance cut off for harassing his cousin’s wife, he actually stooped so low he lived off a woman, letting Arya Ashwood feed him and keep a roof over his head.

Last night, he had staggered back after gambling till deep in the night. Bad luck found him on the road. He crossed some street thugs and got beaten to death on the spot.

Ethan truly wanted to grab a blade and slit his own throat. Of all people to be reborn as, it had to be this kind of trash. How was he supposed to hold his head up from now on?

This body was already on the verge of collapse.

Still, Ethan was not worried.

He had the Warheart Formula.

The Warheart Formula was said to have been obtained by Evander Holloway from an ancient ruin. Its grade was unknown, and even then it was only a fragment.

Back then, Evander Holloway had tried to cultivate it, but failed no matter what he did. In the end, he could only record it in the Sacred Healer Sky Canon and leave it behind for later generations to study.

Much later, when the Warheart Formula fell into Ethan’s hands, the mystery was finally broken.

This cultivation art was strange to the point of absurdity.

The more worthless the body, the easier it was to begin.

And its first true gate was battle.

Fight. Temper the body in combat. Rise again and again in the middle of blood and blows. That was how one’s strength transformed.