Chapter One: A Family of Beasts

Capital City

Marquis Kaiyang’s Mansion

“Young Master, Young Master Qin Hao has only just awakened after nearly drowning. He still needs to rest. You cannot enter!”

A maid, clad only in a thin garment despite the onset of winter, her hands red from the cold, clung desperately to a youth dressed in luxurious attire.

“Out of my way! That little bastard dared drown my dog!”

“Even if he had ten lives, it wouldn’t be enough to pay for my dog!”

“Today, I’ll make him pay for it with his own life.”

This extravagant young man was Qin Dewu, the second son of the Qin family.

He kicked the maid who tried to stop him squarely in the face, causing her nose to spurt blood, her face smeared and pitiful.

Then, dragging his newly purchased vicious dog, he strode to the door and kicked it open.

Inside, Qin Hao opened his eyes weakly.

Having just transmigrated into this body and taken stock of his new situation, he muttered to himself, “Was the original owner out of his mind? As the eldest son of the Qin family, to endure such torment and not flee this family—here, even a dog has a better life than he did.”

This was no exaggeration.

The original boy had often been forced to fight with dogs for food.

If not for the maid Xiaoyu snatching some for him, he would have starved long ago.

This miserable fate was all because his beast of a father had seduced the daughter of Duke Yang, Yang Suxin, and divorced Qin Hao’s mother—the wife of his youth—right before the eyes of all the household servants.

Qin Hao’s mother, strong-willed as she was, could not bear such humiliation.

Right there and then, she dashed herself against a stone and died, consumed by hatred.

The young Qin Hao had witnessed his mother’s suicide with his own eyes. The trauma was too much; his spirit slowly withered, and in time he became an imbecile.

From then on,

Qin Hao’s life descended into hell.

His title as heir was stripped away, he was driven from his own courtyard, his monthly allowance surreptitiously withheld—he could barely fill his belly.

Going three days without food was common; he often fainted from hunger.

This torment lasted a full six years.

Finally, these demons found a plausible way to stage an “accident” and be rid of Qin Hao!

The newly arrived soul, now in Qin Hao’s body, forced himself upright on the bed, fury blazing in his eyes. “Damn it, what a brood of beasts—can’t even spare a child!”

The commotion at the door grew louder.

Qin Hao braced himself and stood.

“If you won’t let me live, then I’ll see to it you die as well.”

His body should have been too weak for this.

But perhaps the transmigration had given him a surge of vitality, or perhaps it was pure rage—he no longer felt pain, only hatred.

As the door was kicked open, the vicious dog lunged at Qin Hao.

Man and beast grappled fiercely.

Qin Dewu’s wanton voice rang out, “You little bastard, you drowned my dog—now I’ll watch as you’re torn apart!”

But in the next instant,

Qin Dewu was left dumbstruck.

The vicious dog was pinned to the ground, unable to move, its throat gripped tightly in Qin Hao’s hands!

Faced with death, Qin Hao’s adrenaline surged.

His eyes, bloodshot beneath his tangled, unkempt hair, stared down at the dog’s neck. Swallowing hard, he realized he hadn’t eaten in three days—he was ravenous.

His stomach growled.

Without delay, he lowered his head and bit down hard into the dog’s neck, blood spurting forth!

The dog howled in agony, struggling and flailing madly.

But Qin Hao held it fast, tearing off chunks of flesh—fur, blood, and all—devouring them greedily.

“You… you bastard—you dare kill my dog?!”

Qin Dewu stared wide-eyed in disbelief, his voice trembling.

What was this?

Qin Hao looked up, blood covering his face, his eyes glowing red—a demon crawling from hell.

“Are you a man or a ghost?”

Qin Dewu’s lips quivered. Spoiled as he was, he had never witnessed such horror. He stood frozen, a warm sensation spreading down his legs.

He had wet himself in terror!

“Get out!”

Qin Hao, still clutching the half-dead dog, shouted furiously.

“Ah!”

Qin Dewu, scared out of his wits, fled the room in panic, tripping and stumbling over himself as he went.

Qin Hao wanted to give chase, but his gnawing hunger forced him to turn back and tear off another chunk of dog meat.

“Young… Young Master!”

At the doorway, the maid Xiaoyu stood agape, unable to believe her eyes as she watched her young master tear into raw dog flesh.

“Fatty and lean, the flavor isn’t bad,” Qin Hao nodded, chewing. “Xiaoyu, fetch a pot. Today, your young master will have dog stew.”

Xiaoyu blinked in disbelief, then nodded rapidly.

She was astonished—the young master could speak—he was no longer a fool!

The cauldron was set up, the dog meat tossed in.

As the effects of adrenaline faded, Qin Hao felt his strength drain, his body aching all over.

But his mind remained clear.

Qin Dewu, that spoiled brat, was no real threat. But his beast of a father and the Duke’s daughter—those two would never let him go.

At this rate, staying in the Qin mansion would be his doom. If he wished to survive, he had to escape.

He turned to Xiaoyu.

“Xiaoyu, do you trust me?”

“What a question, Young Master. Of course I trust you.” Xiaoyu blinked, brimming with joy.

Her young master was no longer weak—he dared to fight back.

He hadn’t given up on himself!

He hadn’t let down his mother.

“Good. If you trust me, then hide—hide somewhere no one will find you. No matter what happens, do not come out.”

Soon, noise rose outside the courtyard, growing louder and more urgent.

Qin Hao glanced at a rickety ladder leaning against the wall.

How many times had he, just by climbing that ladder, almost escaped this hell?

But Yang Suxin had always threatened that should he flee, she would desecrate his mother’s corpse.

Now,

Qin Hao summoned all his strength to prop up the ladder, placing it against the wall and smearing some of his blood on the rungs.

When faced with his only path to survival, he still chose not to run.

Instead, he grabbed an axe used for chopping wood.

Qin Hao understood:

Before, running might have saved his life. Now, running meant certain death.

He had already imagined the excuse Yang Suxin would use:

Qin Hao of the Qin family, sneaking over the wall in a childish prank, was murdered by thieves intent on robbery.

If his corpse wasn’t found for several days, his emaciated state would be easily explained.

Even if a scapegoat was needed to tie up loose ends, with his father’s current rank as a marquis, finding one would be all too easy.

Qin Hao knew that to survive, he must remain calm.

At that moment, a cacophony of footsteps thundered outside the door.

A stern-faced middle-aged man appeared, his expression as cold as water.

This was none other than Qin Ziqian, Marquis Kaiyang—the only man in the new dynasty to be granted a title without military merit.

Beside him stood a noblewoman, her robes sumptuous, her brows fierce and eyes sharp.

The rest were servants, carrying clubs.

Upon witnessing the ghastly scene of Qin Hao butchering the dog, all were stunned.

Then Yang Suxin shrieked, “Quickly, seize that little beast—no, that imbecile!”

But with the Marquis present, the servants did not heed her.

His face darkening, the Marquis barked,

“Bind him!”