"Ah-ha, Joli, it's you!" Liyana dashed over and unceremoniously yanked Joli's long ears.
"Ouch, ouch, ouch! Aunt Liyana... that hurts, let go..." Joli whimpered, clutching his ears—ear-pulling was practically a critical hit for elves.
"You little brat, vanishing without a word, saying you’d make a name for yourself in the Human Race, and then disappearing without a trace... Do you have any idea how worried Yorid was? Everyone thought you’d ended up in some monster’s belly!"
Xia Lun remembered—Yorid, Liyana’s brother... Back when Xia Lun was a child, living among the elves, Yorid had been his and Liyana’s playmate too.
So Joli was Yorid’s son! No wonder Xia Lun had found him somewhat familiar.
Though, to be honest, while elves were all strikingly handsome, their beauty was so uniform that Xia Lun hadn’t paid Joli much mind at first.
Joli seemed utterly restrained in front of Liyana.
He knew his aunt was a legend among the elves—hailed as a prodigy archer since childhood, later becoming a member of the Hero’s Party, the pride of their race... Compared to her, he was practically the polar opposite.
"Brat, you’ve been gone so long and couldn’t even visit once?" Liyana finally released his ears, scowling.
Joli rubbed his throbbing ears, avoiding her gaze as he muttered, "What’s the point? I’m a disappointment anyway. Father probably doesn’t even want to see me..."
"Yorid’s just stubborn! You’re his son—he cares about you deep down! So does your mother!" Liyana planted her hands on her hips, tapping Joli’s forehead with a finger as she lectured him.
Joli shrank back, completely at her mercy.
Xia Lun was surprised—this was the first time he’d seen Liyana act like a proper elder... For once, she actually seemed reliable.
Liyana shot Xia Lun a meaningful look, as if warning him not to ruin her act.
Joli suddenly asked, "Aunt Liyana... do you know Xia Lun?"
"Of course! Xia Lun’s my teammate!" Liyana nodded matter-of-factly, then added, as if remembering something, "My current teammate!"
Xia Lun’s resurrection was too shocking—best not to let too many people know.
"I see... So you’re adventuring again, Aunt Liyana." Joli glanced at Xia Lun, his eyes brimming with admiration. "Xia Lun is incredibly strong."
"Wait... you fought him?" Liyana’s eyes widened. "Joli... since when are you this strong?"
She’d heard plenty about her nephew’s reputation... and she knew exactly what it meant to face Xia Lun in combat.
"Joli’s swordsmanship is exceptional," Xia Lun praised without hesitation.
Liyana’s pupils contracted slightly—she knew Xia Lun wouldn’t flatter anyone, even for her sake.
Which meant Joli really was that skilled now.
"Not bad, Joli! Making a name for yourself! When are you going home to knock the socks off all those who looked down on you?" Liyana grinned, clapping him on the shoulder.
She’d been one of the few rays of light in Joli’s childhood.
"N-no, I’m nowhere near Xia Lun’s level. I still need to train harder..." Joli waved his hands frantically.
Liyana’s expression turned odd—wanting to surpass Xia Lun? This kid’s ambitions were sky-high.
She suddenly declared, "I’ll write to Yorid later and tell him I found you... Once Xia Lun and I finish our current business, I’m dragging you back home, you little rascal!"
They were headed to Abandes next to investigate the state of the Goddess Church.
After that, Liyana planned to return to Libia Forest for a visit... and now, she’d be bringing Joli along.
"Xia Lun, what do you think?" Liyana asked for his opinion.
"Of course, no problem," Xia Lun nodded.
He’d grown up in Libia Forest too—after all this time, it was about time he went back.
Their journey had no fixed destination anyway.
Joli’s face fell. He’d left home without achieving anything, and now he was being hauled back... How humiliating.
"Listen up, Joli... Until we come back for you, you stay put in this village. No running away, or you know what’ll happen," Liyana glared at him threateningly.
"I-I won’t! I’ve lived here for three hundred years—I’m not going anywhere else," Joli stammered, waving his hands.
With that, Liyana strutted off with Xia Lun.
"That kid seems terrified of you?" Xia Lun remarked casually as they walked.
"Ah, after you... passed, I stayed at home for a while. Joli was just a kid back then... Yorid was busy, so I looked after him a bit," Liyana stuck out her tongue playfully.
Aina gasped, covering her mouth. "You? Taking care of a child?"
"Pot calling the kettle black, Aina..." Liyana retorted, clearly recalling Aina’s past struggles with Aise... She quickly clamped her mouth shut, wisely dropping the subject.
"Anyway, since I babysat Joli when he was little, he’s still scared of me now..." Liyana actually sounded proud.
Xia Lun nodded. For that kid to have survived her care, he must’ve been gifted indeed.
"Joli’s always been introverted, never liked socializing..." Liyana sighed. "Most elves his age are already settled down with families, but he doesn’t even have a partner..."
Xia Lun: "And you?"
"I have a partner!" Liyana huffed.
Xia Lun didn’t argue, simply holding Aina’s small hand in silence.
When they returned to the carriage, they found Mo Lini crouched by the field’s edge, blowing on wild dandelions with a picture book clutched to her chest.
"Hehe..." Liyana grinned dopily at Mo Lini’s petite figure.
If only Joli could see her like this—what would his expression be?
Noticing their return—or sensing Liyana’s creepy aura—Mo Lini stiffened like a startled squirrel, glanced up, and scurried back into the carriage.
Their stop in the village hadn’t taken long, and the sun was still high.
Time to set off again.

ose... to cooperate with the protagonist! Shen Yuan: I have a system! Protagonist: What? System: Holy crap, you're just spilling it out like that? Shen Yuan: Let's team up, we'll split the system rewards! Protagonist: Fifty-fifty split? Shen Yuan: No way! Protagonist: What!? I'm the one getting beaten up, and I don't get half? Shen Yuan: Forty-sixty split, I get forty, you get sixty! Protagonist: Deal! Big brother, come on, hit me! As long as it doesn't kill me, beat me like you mean it! Shen Yuan: Don't worry... I will definitely protect all of you! No one but me can lay a finger on you! Guard our Heaven's Chosen Ones! I'm the only one allowed to bully them!

rowess are unmatched, commanding a million-strong army! Yet, the Emperor wants to depose him for the sake of a false prince? Hold on, are you throwing me into some female-oriented romance plot? How can I tolerate this? With a grand wave of his hand—the Nine Clan Extraction Technique! Slander the Emperor? Very well, all of you shall die! ... The False Prince: "Although I am not the biological son, Father and Mother love me more. The throne should be mine!" The Female Lead: "Qin Xiao, you are the Emperor, and I am a commoner. If you wish to marry me, you must abdicate. Otherwise, you will never have me!" The Empress: "After we divorce, you must give me half the empire!" The Transmigrator Consort: "You worthless Emperor, why should I kneel to you? All men are equal—I advise you to be kind!" The Great General: "The enemy general is my childhood sweetheart. For her sake, I willingly abandon the frontier defenses!" The Retired Emperor: "Although Yu'er was adopted, I prefer him. Qin Xiao, you should abdicate and let him become Emperor!" ... Very well! So this is how you want to play? Facing this twisted world of female-oriented tropes, Qin Xiao grins and raises his hand to unleash—the Nine Clan Extraction Technique! I am the Emperor. Why would I bother reasoning with you? Seal the gates! Leave none alive!

world slacker. But a genius female disciple just had to get clingy, insisting that he take her as a disciple. Not only that, she was always making advances on him, thoroughly disrupting his peaceful slacker life...

transmigrates into the world as the sect master of the Heavenly Yan Sect, which is on the verge of being wiped out. He binds a system that grants him cultivation power based on the number of disciples he has: for each disciple, he automatically gains a year's worth of cultivation every single day! Take one disciple: every day he gains 1 year of cultivation power. While others struggle through a year of bitter training, he gets the same just by sleeping through a single night. Take ten disciples: every day he gains 10 years of cultivation power. Foundation Establishment, Core Formation, Nascent Soul—he breezes through all bottlenecks without lifting a finger. Take one hundred disciples: every day he gains 100 years of cultivation power. Even a Soul Transformation Venerable before him can’t survive a single blow. Take ten thousand disciples: every day he gains 10,000 years of cultivation power! With a wave of his hand, he topples empires. With a single step, he crushes the sacred grounds of the universe. ... While others fight tooth and nail for secret techniques, Lin Yan casually hands out Nascent Soul-level cultivation manuals as beginner textbooks. While others strain to find talented recruits, Lin Yan opens his doors to anyone—so long as they’re human. In just three short years, the Heavenly Yan Sect went from a backwater sect made up of three crumbling huts to a sacred land that every cultivator under heaven would kill to enter. ... One day, otherworldly demon gods invade, with a million demon soldiers pressing down upon the realm. Lin Yan, yawning, rises from his lounge chair and glances at the system panel: [Current Disciples: 1.28 million] [Daily Cultivation Increase: 1.28 million years] He waves his hand casually, and the countless demon soldiers are reduced to ashes in an instant. “So noisy… interrupting my fishing.”