Old Yang leaned against the doorframe, his mind reeling as if he’d blacked out from drinking too much.
The next moment, he saw several burly men carefully carrying out his prized vintage Tannoy speakers.
"Hey, hey, hey! Wait—what are you doing?!"
Old Yang exploded, his voice cracking like an enraged lion as he charged forward.
"Damn it, who are you?! Who told you to touch my stuff?! This is robbery!"
The movers froze at his sudden outburst, exchanging bewildered glances.
The pawnshop leader frowned and stepped forward. "Boss Yang, you agreed to this yourself. Are you backing out now?"
"I did not! That’s nonsense! Put everything down! If anyone dares move another inch, I’ll fight them to the death!"
He shielded his beloved speakers like a mother hen protecting her chicks.
Just then, Old Yang clutched his head with a pained groan as fragmented memories flashed through his mind—a blurry young face, desperate and pleading.
"Dad, if you don’t give me the money, I’ll die..."
Lin Mo walked over and deliberately asked, "Old Yang, didn’t your son tell you to sell these?"
The pawnshop leader nearby nodded emphatically.
"Yeah, wasn’t it your son who said to sell them? You even rushed us to appraise them so you could sell this shop at the real estate agency too."
Old Yang stiffened. "My son? When did my son tell me to sell these?"
Without hesitation, he pulled out his phone and dialed.
"You little brat! Are you selling my shop?!"
The voice on the other end paused. "What are you talking about? Why would I sell your treasures? I’m on a business trip in Australia right now. Everyone knows how much you cherish that stuff—why would I bother selling your junk?"
Lin Mo heard every word and turned back to the pawnshop leader.
"Have any of you actually seen this man’s son?"
The pawnshop workers looked utterly confused, shaking their heads and pointing at Old Yang. "No, this old man came to us himself. He said his son owed debts and asked us to take his things for appraisal."
Lin Mo immediately sensed something was off.
He needed to find that person first before removing whatever was affecting Old Yang’s mind.
But it wasn’t a big issue—he had other ways to handle this.
Meanwhile, Old Yang rubbed his temples, bewildered. He had no memory of going to a pawnshop or arranging this.
Setting down his phone, he glanced nervously at his old neighbor and Lin Mo.
"Tell me… do I have dementia?"
Lin Mo patted his shoulder reassuringly. "Don’t worry. There’s a problem, but it’s definitely not dementia."
Old Yang stared blankly, not understanding.
Lin Mo then pulled the pawnshop leader aside and slipped two hundred yuan into his hand.
"Sorry about this. Old Yang might have early Alzheimer’s. This is for your trouble—thanks for coming all this way."
The leader sighed, pocketing the money. In the pawn trade, last-minute reversals were common, and compensation was rare.
Seeing Old Yang’s age, he just waved it off.
"Fine, we’ll put everything back and leave."
Old Wang helped Old Yang to a recliner under the banyan tree. "You really scared me! One minute you’re selling everything, the next you’re back to normal."
Old Yang, slumped in the chair, could only wonder if he’d truly forgotten something.
Lin Mo then asked casually, "Old Yang, do you remember the tube amplifier you kept in the shop? Was it sold?"
Old Yang shot up from the chair like a spring.
"What?! My amplifier’s gone?!"
He rushed inside, gaping at the empty spot on the floor, then clutched his chest in despair.
"My treasure! My precious treasure!"
Lin Mo approached the pawnshop group again.
With a flick of his wrist, he produced a pack of Huazi cigarettes and handed it over.
"You took the amplifier too, right?"
The leader took one, lit it, and pushed the pack back.
"Yeah, it’s a live pawn. Boss Yang should still have the ticket—he can reclaim it. But weirdly, he insisted on cash, no bank transfer."
He lowered his voice.
"That amp was pawned for about 120k. It’s worth 170k, honestly. A dead pawn would’ve gotten him 140k."
Live pawns allowed redemption; dead pawns meant outright sale.
Live pawns earned interest but fetched less upfront. Miss the deadline, and the item belonged to the shop.
Dead pawns paid more but forfeited ownership.
Luckily, Old Yang had chosen live pawn—meaning whatever was influencing him hadn’t fully overridden his judgment.
The "son’s debt" story was the flaw.
Lin Mo raised an eyebrow but didn’t press further. He thanked them and walked away, pulling out his phone.
Time for their good friend Liu Zheng to make an appearance.
The call connected instantly.
"Province Lin’s top dog, what’s up?"
"If you want to get close to that ‘Oriental Leaf,’ hurry to Tao Street. There’s an unusual case here."
Liu Zheng paused.
"Care to elaborate? I’d like to prepare."
"Sure. Check recent fraud reports around Tao Street, plus old property sales records."
Lin Mo outlined the key details.
"Fraud? Why not just call the police?" Liu Zheng sounded annoyed.
"Ordinary fraud, sure. But what if it’s supernatural fraud?"
"Using powers for scams? What genius would waste them like that?"
Then again, it wasn’t impossible.
Liu Zheng grumbled but agreed to bring Old Bai over.
As for Shouzhen?
Better leave him at the rental. No telling if Lin Mo shared North Profound’s dislike for Quanzhen Taoists.
e bizarre and supernatural had descended. The previous emperor was a thoroughgoing tyrant; no longer satisfied with human women, he had set his sights on a stunningly beautiful supernatural entity. He met his end in his bedchamber, drained of all his vital essence. As the legitimate eldest son and crown prince, Wang Hao was thus hastily enthroned, becoming the young emperor of the Great Zhou Dynasty. No sooner had he awakened the "Imperial Sign-In Intelligence System" than he was assassinated by a Son of Destiny—a classic villain's opening. The Great Zhou, ravaged by the former emperor's excesses, was in national decline. The great families within its borders harbored their own treacherous schemes, martial sects began to defy the imperial court's decrees, and border armies, their pay and provisions in arrears, grumbled incessantly against the central government. Fortunately, the central capital was still held secure by the half-million Imperial Guards and fifty thousand Imperial Forest Army who obeyed the court's orders, along with the royal family's hidden reserves of power, barely managing to suppress the realm. As the Great Zhou's finances worsened and supernatural activities grew ever more frequent, the court sat atop a volcano. Ambitious plotters everywhere dreamed of overthrowing the dynasty, and even some reclusive ancient powers emerged, attempting to sway the tides of the world. At the first grand court assembly, the civil and military officials nearly came to blows, fighting tooth and nail over the allocation of fifty million taels of silver from the summer tax revenues. The spectacle opened Wang Hao's eyes—the Great Zhou's bureaucracy was not only corrupt but also martially proficient, a cabinet of all-rounders. Some officials even had the audacity to suggest the emperor release funds from the imperial privy purse to address the emergency. Wang Hao suddenly felt weary. Let it all burn.
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.”
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!
close your eyes and open them again, only to find yourself transmigrated into the role of a villainous male supporting character. Readers familiar with urban wish-fulfillment novels know that it is only through the relentless antics of the villainous male supporting character that the plot between the male and female leads can progress. As the villainous male supporting character, Long Aotian not only has to bully the female lead, harass the second female lead, and flirt with the third female lead, but he also has to go all out to antagonize the male lead. In the end, when his body is discovered, he is still clutching half a moldy fried dough stick in his hand. Fully aware of the plot, Long Aotian is determined to change his fate, starting with the female lead! In the beginning, the female lead lacks confidence: "Big brother, I hope I didn't scare you?" In the middle, the female lead treads carefully: "Brother Long, please don't hit me, okay?" Later on, the female lead becomes coquettishly clingy: "Aotian, it's time to pay the 'public grain' tonight." Long Aotian's legs go weak, and he feels like crying: "I taught you to be thick-skinned, not shameless!"
