C3 Married Daughter-in-law.

Upon exiting the Warren Hotel, Pei Junlin cradled Wang Ziqiong in his arms and swiftly hailed a taxi to depart.

Inside the cab, the drugged Wang Ziqiong grew increasingly agitated. She would periodically press her legs tightly together or caress her lovely face against Pei Junlin's arm, her actions reminiscent of a feline in heat.

Pei Junlin's brow furrowed slightly. Turning his gaze away from the window, he contemplated the woman he now called his wife. Her beauty was astonishing, a fact he had been aware of from the memories of his predecessor. Known throughout Qingzhou City, she was a celebrated beauty and a prominent President.

Yet, Pei Junlin was a formidable figure in his own right.

Renowned across the Myriad Worlds, he was the Asura General, a being revered by countless cosmic races. He had encountered numerous beauties—fairies, goddesses, saintesses, and succubae—all of whom had yielded to him.

Still, the sight of the stunning visage beside him sent a jolt through him. He inwardly cursed the previous host for his incredible fortune in having such a breathtaking woman as a spouse.

The drug coursing through Wang Ziqiong's veins seemed to intensify, her gorgeous face flushed with heat, her long legs clamping together uncontrollably, her breaths coming in short gasps. Her hands began to tear at her clothing restlessly, her alluring lips parted slightly.

"This is quite the predicament," Pei Junlin muttered, his frown deepening. He reached out, his finger poised to touch the agitated Wang Ziqiong's neck.

Suddenly, a stifled groan escaped Pei Junlin's lips. His face drained of color, turning ashen, and it was some time before a hint of rosiness returned.

But it was his eyes—dark and enigmatic—that instilled fear.

Pei Junlin had realized that his strength had plummeted to an all-time low. His once-mighty Divine Ability Arts had diminished, and his fundamental Divine Soul power had been reduced to an extent he had never experienced before.

Now vulnerable, he could be easily slain by any cultivator.

This was unacceptable.

Reborn, Pei Junlin was acutely aware that this world was far from the tranquil facade it presented. It was home to the Martial Arts World and the Superpower Realm. Beyond that, Earth's parallel dimensions teemed with myriad planes, each inhabited by diverse races.

He needed formidable strength to survive.

"Nine-cycle Nether Arts."

Pei Junlin called upon the power silently, and in a flash, a page of golden scripture emerged within his boundless Divine Soul.

The scripture bore images of gods and demons, both vivid and ethereal, ever-shifting—some menacing, others serene and compassionate.

This was the greatest fortune Pei Junlin had received three years prior, under the tutelage of Goddess Linglong. Thanks to the Nine-cycle Nether Arts, he had ascended to the rank of Asura General in a mere three hundred years, striking fear into the hearts of countless otherworldly beings with the mere mention of Asura Pei.

Now, reborn in another's body, Pei Junlin called forth his most potent ally.

He quickly lost himself in the depths of cultivation.

Cultivation had nine tiers: Qi Refining, Foundation Stage, Fasting, Golden Core, Nascent Infant, Divinity, Transcendency, Mahayana, and Thunder Tribulation, each aligning with the Nine-cycle Nether Arts' nine levels. Each breakthrough signified a step into a new realm.

Pei Junlin's current prowess had plummeted from the eighth realm of the Nine-cycle Nether Arts back to square one, indicating a fall from the Mahayana Stage to Qi Refining. Yet, no one could doubt that he would once again rise to the pinnacle with an iron will.

"Sir! We've arrived at Tangchen Garden!"

The taxi driver's voice roused Pei Junlin. His eyes snapped open, unleashing a chilling glare that nearly had the driver trembling in his seat.

Tangchen Garden was Pei Junlin's current residence, though it was more accurately the Wang family's domain.

Drawing on his recollections, Pei Junlin lifted his wife, Wang Ziqiong, still in the throes of unconsciousness, and strode toward a grand duplex villa.

The villa was the Wang family's property, home to his father-in-law, mother-in-law, and sister-in-law.

Fortunately, it was deep into the night, and the villa's inhabitants were asleep. Pei Junlin, cradling Wang Ziqiong, ascended the stairs guided by the map of memories in his mind and gently pushed open the door to an opulent bedroom.

He nonchalantly tossed Wang Ziqiong onto the bed and resumed his cultivation with single-minded focus. Bearing a deep grudge from his past life, his sole obsession was to grow stronger—to erase the shame that had plagued him for three years.

As dawn broke, Wang Ziqiong awoke to find Pei Junlin still seated in meditation on the bed. If her memory served her right, he hadn't moved since their intimate encounter the night before.

The recollection brought a seductive flush to Wang Ziqiong's exquisite features. Despite resigning herself to the marriage over the past two months, the reality of their consummation left her with a whirlwind of emotions. The treasure she had preserved for twenty-four years was now surrendered.

She had entrusted herself to a man scorned by her family and all others. Could this truly be her fate?

Wang Ziqiong sighed inwardly. After all, it was she and her father, Wang Haishan, who had personally selected Pei Junlin. Their choice was a strategic move to curb the disdain of ungrateful relatives and to clear away the irritants in their midst.

Lost in thought, she was jolted back to the present as the bedroom door burst open. A girl hurried in, her lovely face etched with alarm.

"Sis, we're in trouble! Those ingrates have returned, and this time they've brought the Luo family with them!"

Her words were cut short as she caught sight of Pei Junlin, bare-chested at the head of the bed. She clapped her hands over her eyes, her expression a mix of embarrassment and indignation.