Since childhood, Bing San had suffered from uncontrollable flesh growth due to accidentally consuming Mystic Swine Grass, and he despised any remarks about his physique—even from his own father, whom he would raise hell against if mentioned.
The thinly veiled contempt in Ye Chuan’s words was like lighting a powder keg. Bing San’s bloated body trembled violently, every fold of fat seeming to roar as the overwhelming aura of his Golden Core realm surged forth, freezing the air around him with a glacial pressure that coated the surroundings in frost.
"My Profound Ice Art has reached minor mastery. Today, I’ll test its power on this fool who doesn’t know his place!"
Bing San bellowed, taking a step forward as icy patterns spread beneath his feet.
Seeing his genuine fury, the disciples and elders of the Profound Ice Palace looked at Ye Chuan as if he were already a corpse.
Who didn’t know of this prodigious Holy Son’s talent? Even ordinary Nascent Soul cultivators had been grievously wounded by him. Among the younger generation of the Western Glory Divine Continent, Bing San was hailed as "the strongest below Nascent Soul!"
"Profound Ice Palm!"
With a vicious shout, Bing San thrust both palms forward. In an instant, azure spiritual energy condensed into a colossal palm, its edges coated in inch-thick ice crystals. It swept toward Ye Chuan like a storm capable of freezing mountains, leaving a trail of thick ice in its wake.
Feeling the chilling energy, Ye Chuan willed the dozens of spiritual swords hovering in the air to shoot forward. The moment they clashed with the icy palm, frost encased the blades, and they plummeted to the ground as if severed from control.
"Worthless trash, die for this Holy Son!" Bing San sneered—but the next moment, Ye Chuan vanished from sight.
"Yo." A voice sounded beside him. Before Bing San could turn, a sharp slap landed on his face with a resounding crack, loud enough for everyone present to hear.
"What?!"
Not just the disciples and elders of the Profound Ice Palace, but even Bing San himself clutched his reddened cheek in disbelief.
More shocking than the pain was how Ye Chuan had appeared beside him in an instant.
Unconcerned with his opponent’s thoughts, Ye Chuan unleashed a barrage of dozens of punches into Bing San’s bloated belly, each blow sending ripples through the layers of fat. The final strike blasted Bing San backward like a cannonball.
"Oof!"
"Argh!"
Bing San tumbled and bounced across the icy ground like a ball, while Ye Chuan teleported repeatedly, delivering kicks and punches mid-air as if playing a game.
Within moments, Bing San lay battered on the ground, covered in wounds.
"Ah…"
Everything had happened too fast. The disciples, who had expected a one-sided slaughter, gaped in shock as their Holy Son was beaten like a stray dog.
Just how strong was this demonic cultivator?
He looked so young—no more than a hundred or two hundred years old, right?
A Nascent Soul at a hundred years old?!
"W-what are you all staring at? Attack!" Bing San roared through his bruised face, seeing his sect members frozen in place.
"Strike together!"
No longer holding back, the disciples and elders unleashed their full arsenal of techniques and treasures.
Ye Chuan smirked. "Gravity Field—tenfold."
A dark domain expanded, and the moment the cultivators tried to gather their energy, their expressions twisted in horror as an immense weight crushed them to their knees in the snow.
Bing San fared no better—his rotund frame was even slightly flattened under the pressure.
Unfazed, Ye Chuan remained calm. Though the tenfold gravity field drained his spiritual energy rapidly, it was no issue for him.
From the start, he had only been toying with them.
A minor sect that barely reached the Spirit Transformation stage wasn’t even worth his attention.
He needed opponents at least on the level of Qin Tianya or the Dragonborn.
"Fellow cultivators, how about some tea?" Ye Chuan grinned, pulling out his soul banner, which billowed with dark smoke. "Plenty of room inside—your sect mates are already here. Don’t be shy."
Chains lashed out, piercing the bodies of disciples and elders one by one.
Though their cultivation was merely at the Foundation or Crystal stages—with a few Golden Cores—every bit helped.
They’d make fine fodder to strengthen his soul banner.
The more he devoured, the more powerful it would become.
As the chains dragged at Bing San’s soul, the process slowed—his corpulent spirit was unusually heavy.
"Even slaughtering a New Year’s pig isn’t this troublesome," Ye Chuan muttered irritably.
"Elder Xuan, save me!" Bing San shrieked, sensing death’s approach.
"Young man, you’ve gone too far." A sigh echoed through the void.
In the next instant, an invisible force shattered every chain of the soul banner.
Ye Chuan blinked, then narrowed his eyes as he looked up.
A shadowy figure materialized in the sky—an elderly man in plain robes, gazing down impassively.
When their eyes met, the elder’s wrinkled face twisted into an eerie smile.
"Your talent is remarkable. Had you not strayed onto this wicked path, you might have joined our Holy Land."
"Elder Xuan, Elder Xuan!!" Bing San wailed, snot and tears streaming. "Kill him now!"
Holy Land?
Ye Chuan had heard of them—Qian Duoduo’s Treasure Pavilion thrived under their backing, making them a tier above ordinary sects.
"Tch." Though denied his prey, Ye Chuan showed no fear. "So, you’re strong, huh?"
"You possess a power that devours spiritual energy," Elder Xuan mused, his smile cryptic. "Is that your reliance?"
Exposed, Ye Chuan fell silent for a beat before grinning. "Maybe."
"Then can you devour this?" The elder’s voice turned ghostly.
A searing pain erupted in Ye Chuan’s chest—a deep gash had somehow appeared without warning.
Stunned, he clamped a hand over the gushing wound, healing it swiftly.
But then more cuts materialized across his body. Within breaths, he was drenched in blood, his flesh nearly split apart.
Ye Chuan’s eyes sharpened as he dodged, his form flickering with emerald light.
His keen vision soon caught it—countless translucent threads filled the air.
"Strings?"
"Sharp eyes. A true prodigy." Elder Xuan waved a hand, sending the threads slicing toward Ye Chuan’s neck. "But this ends now."
The strands passed through his throat—and the iceberg behind him was cleanly severed.
"Hm?" The elder’s brow furrowed.
Ye Chuan’s body had turned semi-transparent.
"This..." Elder Xuan pondered.
Yet Ye Chuan wasted no words—activating his Void Shift, he teleported instantly and—
Stab! Right in the kidney!
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.”
ng to die together with you." Lin Xuan is dead, his body thrown into the river by his scumbag lover and her accomplice. She, the president of the Su Group, is decisive, ruthless, and ice-cold. For three days and three nights, she had his body fished out of the river, and without hesitation, she kissed the bloated corpse of Lin Xuan. She laid down beside him in a cold coffin, their fingers intertwined, a smile lingering on her lips as she closed her eyes. The noble and cold-hearted woman, only bending for one man—Lin Xuan. Lin Xuan, with his golden finger, is reborn and returns to the day of his wedding to the treacherous woman. Su Qiang comes to steal the bride. Lin Xuan's eyes light up, eager to pledge his loyalty on the spot, but instead, her kiss transfers a glass of drugged wine into his mouth, causing him to pass out... 【Male Protagonist with Single Female Lead】【Yandere Tycoon】【Action-Packed】【True vs. Fake Heir】
s the Eldest Princess, renowned for her cold and aloof detachment, became the most docile of lambs, obeying his every command without question. But when the final move was played on the chessboard, as Gu Chenghan seized everything and ascended on the verge of apotheosis, that very Princess suddenly embraced him from behind, her tone carrying a dependence never heard before: "Wait... you haven't yet... commanded me to love you forever." Gu Chenghan froze abruptly. She... hadn't been hypnotized?! ... [The Eldest Princess's Diary] [When my soul was extracted, becoming the sole spectator outside my own shell] [At first, there was overwhelming fury, until I saw] [How he used my sword to effortlessly shatter my inescapable doom] [How he wielded my authority to eradicate fatal conspiracies I had never even detected] [Like a deity, he rescued me from the deep mire I was trapped in] [If not for those annoying vixens, he and I would be a match made in heaven] [I think I am ill, gravely ill] [My deity should belong to me alone] ... "Hypnosis? Oh, it succeeded, my dear Master." "Only this time, it's my turn to hypnotize you."
to panic—he has a system. As long as an investment target dies, he can claim a reward. And since he is immortal, the one thing he has plenty of is time. ... Countless years later. “Immortal Emperor of Longevity? I invested in him.” “Supreme Celestial Venerable? I invested in him.” “Undying Empress? I invested in her.” “...” “Heh. Once they’ve all died, even the Heavenly Dao will have to kneel and call me Dad.”
