Winning the male lead

The sky-blue corridors were adorned with intricately carved beams and painted walls. Yun Le Tian stood tall and elegant, draped in a magnificent robe embroidered with flying cranes and peonies. A jade-green sash was tied around his waist, from which hung a sachet embroidered with the five blessings. A finely crafted white jade hairpin secured his hair. The luxurious attire did not overshadow his innate nobility but instead accentuated his resplendent beauty, making him almost impossible to look at directly.

A delicate little thrush hopped around inside a golden cage, chirping sweetly as it followed the movements of a golden spoon. Yun Le Tian tilted his face slightly, playing with the bird in amusement.

Behind him, a servant approached and whispered, “Young Marquis, the young lady has arrived in the capital.”

“Oh?” Yun Le Tian turned his head, his strikingly handsome features curving into a sweet smile. “And what does that have to do with me?”

The servants were long accustomed to their young master’s sharp tongue. One of them cautiously advised, “The old madam said that you and the young lady were childhood friends. You should go and welcome her.”

“She said ‘childhood friends,’” Yun Le Tian tossed the golden spoon back into the cage and clapped his hands, “which means we were kids. We’re all grown up now—who still remembers whom?” With that, he turned and strode away, his steps deep and shallow.

Such an exceptionally handsome young man—pity he was crippled. The servant sighed inwardly. If not for his injured leg, perhaps the young marquis’s temper wouldn’t have turned out so bad.

Le Tian, however, was fuming at the system. “Last world, I had a stutter. This world, I’m crippled. Do you have something against me?”

The system replied in a detached tone, “You’re only realizing now that I have something against you? Aren’t you a little slow?”

Yun Le Tian had everything—looks, wealth, and status—but alas, a childhood accident left his left leg crippled. No matter how rich and powerful he was, he would be a cripple for life.

Le Tian snorted. “Even a eunuch couldn’t stop me. A mere limp won’t slow me down either.”

The system: “…”

Le Tian sighed dramatically. “What a pity I didn’t get to see our dear Jiangjiang’s heartbroken face. I even bought two identical milk candies just so he could throw mine in the trash. Hmph.”

The system: “…” This man’s sense of revenge was terrifying.

In this world, the system obediently laid out the main storyline for Le Tian, fearing he would wreak havoc otherwise.

The male lead of this world was the mighty general Zhao Xin, and the female lead was Yun Le Tian’s cousin, Gao Danxuan—who also happened to be his fiancée.

Le Tian once had an older sister named Yun Qianshuang, a woman of unparalleled grace and beauty. She had been betrothed to Zhao Xin when they were young. Unfortunately, her life was short, and she passed away from a sudden illness before Zhao Xin could return victorious from war. From then on, she became his eternal white moonlight—a beauty turned to bones. Zhao Xin mourned for three years, refusing to take another wife.

That was until Gao Danxuan, who bore a striking resemblance to Yun Qianshuang, arrived in the capital. She thawed Zhao Xin’s frozen heart, and though she started as a mere replacement, she eventually became his wife.

As for Yun Le Tian, he was merely a footnote—his fiancée was taken by Zhao Xin, and he played no significant role in the story.

Le Tian was speechless. “Does anyone else find it creepy to marry someone who looks just like your deceased sister?”

The system: “…You didn’t get to marry her.”

Le Tian: “Zhao Xin is quite devoted.”

The system: “Indeed.” In the original storyline, Zhao Xin only ever married one woman.

Le Tian: “Just like me. I’m very devoted to one type.”

The system: “…I don’t think it’s the same.”

Le Tian pondered for a moment. “Do I look like Yun Qianshuang?”

The system: “Not in the slightest.”

Yun Qianshuang was a delicate, ethereal beauty, graceful as mist and refined as a perfect lady. She excelled in music, chess, calligraphy, and painting, and her demeanor was gentle and elegant—she was the epitome of a flawless white moonlight.

Yun Le Tian, on the other hand, was strikingly flamboyant. His eyebrows arched sharply, and a single lift of them carried an air of defiant arrogance. His childhood injury had made his family overprotective, which, in turn, nurtured his terribly spoiled personality. He ran wild in the capital, terrorizing cats and dogs alike—a true little tyrant, bearing not a single resemblance to Yun Qianshuang.

Le Tian sighed in relief. “That’s good.”

The system failed to see why that was good. “You should give up. Zhao Xin isn’t into your type.”

Le Tian remained unbothered. “That’s fine. As long as he’s my type.” A general, strong and powerful, surely capable of lasting seven rounds a night. It would be a shame not to bed him.

The system: “…” It could already see the tragic future awaiting both itself and Zhao Xin.

Today marked Zhao Xin’s triumphant return to the capital. According to the original plot, since Le Tian didn’t fetch Gao Danxuan, she would end up lost in the unfamiliar city and, by chance, cross paths with Zhao Xin’s returning troops.

The system withheld a crucial detail: while the male and female leads didn’t have an unnatural magnetic pull, Gao Danxuan’s face was her ultimate trump card. The moment Zhao Xin saw her, Le Tian would be forgotten entirely.

However, Le Tian was far craftier than the system anticipated. He had already tracked Zhao Xin’s movements and arranged for a sedan chair to take him to Qingyue Pavilion.

Qingyue Pavilion was the most renowned teahouse in the capital, where the courtesans were not only beautiful but also highly skilled in the arts. While it had a reputation for refinement, many noblemen still found their way into its chambers for less-than-pure reasons.

Yun Le Tian, despite his notorious reputation, had no interest in such places. When the madam of Qingyue Pavilion saw him, she beamed. “Well, if it isn’t the young marquis! What an honor to have you grace our humble establishment today.”

Le Tian rolled his large, expressive eyes. “Cut the nonsense. I want a room on the top floor, facing the street. No courtesans.”

The madam was stunned. “A room without a courtesan? What kind of request is that?”

“Is that a problem?” Le Tian tossed a heavy gold ingot onto the table. The madam’s eyes lit up instantly, and she swiftly led him to the finest room—Xiangyun Pavilion.

The room overlooked the street, and Zhao Xin’s procession would undoubtedly pass by.

As Le Tian lounged near the window, idly cracking sunflower seeds and chatting with the system, he remained unaware of the stir he was causing. His striking, vividly handsome features framed against the backdrop of a renowned teahouse made passersby steal glances, their eyes lingering on him.

One such passerby was Prince Xiang’s son, Ge Chengyu.

Ge Chengyu had once studied with Yun Le Tian in their youth. Le Tian, ever prideful, had paid him little mind. But Ge Chengyu had taken notice of Le Tian’s beauty early on. Now, years later, with the declining status of the Marquis’ household, he saw an opportunity.

Fingering the jade pendant at his waist, Ge Chengyu steeled himself and strode into Qingyue Pavilion.

The madam was beside herself with joy. “What an auspicious day! First the young marquis, now the prince’s heir—blessings must be upon us!”

Ge Chengyu, though known for his indulgences, had little interest in women. Smiling faintly, he said, “I’m here for the young marquis.”

Another one not here for the ladies. The madam’s smile dimmed—until another gold ingot landed in her palm. “Of course, of course! The young marquis is upstairs. He hasn’t called for company, so go right ahead.”

Swallowing hard, Ge Chengyu strode upstairs, his mind filled with the countless fantasies he had long harbored about Yun Le Tian.

Knock, knock.

Le Tian glanced at the door, irritated. “Who is it? I said I didn’t want any courtesans.”

Ge Chengyu pushed the door open, flashing a gentle smile. “It’s not a courtesan—it’s me.”

Le Tian gave him a once-over. He was decent-looking, but his face bore the traces of too much indulgence. Instantly losing interest, he murmured to the system, “This guy wouldn’t last more than a minute.”

Ge Chengyu approached with a smile, sitting down beside him on the soft couch. He followed Le Tian’s gaze downward and asked, “Le Tian, what are you looking at?”

Le Tian rolled his eyes impatiently, thinking, Damn, even as a bootlicker, you’re this weak? You’re not even qualified to be a proper tool. Get lost.

Seeing Le Tian’s unwillingness to engage, Ge Chengyu was not deterred. Instead, he became even more intrigued and leaned in closer. “You’re here, yet you haven’t called for a girl. Could it be that you don’t know how? Brother can teach you.”

Le Tian immediately kicked him, sending the unsuspecting Ge Chengyu sprawling onto the floor. Getting up, Le Tian cursed, “Who the hell do you think you are, acting all brotherly with me? I only had one sister, and she’s dead. You’re just some bastard born of a lowly street whore—get lost!”

The original Yun Le Tian had been foul-mouthed, but his vocabulary was rather limited. Now, with Le Tian’s arrival, he instantly transformed into the ultimate trash talker, leaving Ge Chengyu’s face alternating between shades of red and blue.

Ge Chengyu was a concubine’s son. His mother was originally a courtesan from a pleasure boat, brought into the palace by Prince Xiang when he struggled to produce heirs. Le Tian’s words struck his deepest insecurity.

“You—Yun Le Tian! If you refuse a toast, you’ll have to drink a forfeit!” Ge Chengyu climbed to his feet, his fingers trembling with rage. “Do you think the Dingyuan Marquis Manor still holds the same power as before? How dare you humiliate me like this! I—I…” He stammered, his eyes landing on Le Tian’s strikingly beautiful face, before finally revealing his true intentions. “I’ll just have to take you right here today!”

Le Tian scoffed, I belong to the male lead. You? Not worthy.

He grabbed a teacup from beside him and hurled it at hin, striking him hard in the knee. Ge Chengyu yelped in pain and collapsed. Seeing his chance, Le Tian turned to flee but was suddenly caught by the ankle.

His left foot had suffered an old injury, making it particularly vulnerable. The moment Ge Chengyu gripped it, he let out a sharp cry of pain and cursed, “Ge Chengyu, you damn bastard! Touch me one more time, and I’ll chop off that pathetic excuse for a manhood of yours and feed it to the dogs!”

Driven to the edge by Le Tian’s insults, Ge Chengyu yanked him back onto the couch. Furious, he snarled, “I originally wanted to treat you gently, but you just don’t know what’s good for you!”

Le Tian retaliated with a swift knee strike—right between Ge Chengyu’s legs.

A blood-curdling scream echoed through the room as Ge Chengyu collapsed, writhing on the ground in agony.

Le Tian stood on the couch, grinning. “Hurts, doesn’t it? I’ll make sure you enjoy this pain nice and slow.” He scanned the room, spotted a teapot, and considered scalding him with boiling water.

But before he could act, the noise of an excited crowd from outside caught his attention. He set the teapot down and leaned toward the window to look outside.

The streets were packed with people throwing flowers and fruits into the air, chanting in excitement, “General Zhao has returned! General Zhao has returned!”

Leaning out further, Le Tian could only make out a small cavalry unit of about ten riders. The leader, presumably Zhao Xin, had long black hair cascading down his back and was clad in a white robe and silver armor.

Behind him, Ge Chengyu was still groaning on the floor, clutching himself in pain. Le Tian smirked. Well, at least you’re useful for something.

As Zhao Xin’s white horse approached, Le Tian seized the moment and called out loudly, “Zhao Xin, save me!”

Zhao Xin thought he heard someone calling his name. He instinctively pulled the reins of his horse and looked up, only to see a strikingly beautiful youth standing precariously on a latticed window, panic flashing in his eyes before he suddenly leaped toward him.

“Be careful!”

Without thinking, he spurred his horse forward and caught the falling youth in his arms. The gathered crowd gasped in awe as their esteemed general cradled an exquisitely dressed, breathtakingly gorgeous young man.

Le Tian had kept his eyes closed during the jump, but upon landing securely in Zhao Xin’s embrace, he cautiously opened one eye.

Zhao Xin’s long eyebrows were slightly furrowed, his features dignified and elegant. His voice was low and steady as he asked, “Are you alright?”

Le Tian grinned and winked. “I’m fine, brother-in-law~”