"Garlic Bird, Garlic Bird, you're no match for him..."
Chen Yi once again stopped the Little Golden Dragon.
This guy was all talk and no game. If he were complete, it wouldn’t be so bad—even if he loved to mess around, at least he wouldn’t be weak. But the problem was, he was broken! Right now, he was just a useless little runt.
And yet, he still had the nerve to provoke the fully intact Primordial Celestial Mirror, only to get utterly wrecked by a single critical hit, leaving him both shattered and sulking.
Seeing him questioning his life choices, Chen Yi quickly reassured him, "Alright, alright, you were a badass back in the day, and even though you're stuck in the shallows now, you’ll return to your peak someday. So... since you were so awesome before, how many Chaos Treasures have you crossed paths with?"
The Little Golden Dragon sighed. "Sigh, I was a bit more impressive than that old Primordial guy. I’ve sensed traces of seven Chaos Treasures: the Soul Suppressing Bell, the Reincarnation Seal, the Bronze Coffin, the Primal Chaos Bell, the Fate-Reversing Banner, the Cauldron of Creation, and this dumbass Primordial Mirror!"
Though the Little Golden Dragon was a bit of an idiot, the value of the Karmic Weaving Disk was undeniable.
In terms of reflecting across the myriad realms, the vast net woven by the Karmic Weaving Disk could stretch into every corner of existence!
Otherwise, it would never have become the foundation for the Transmigrators' Mutual Aid Group spanning the infinite worlds!
"So, you're saying there are eight Chaos Treasures in total?" Chen Yi silently calculated, feeling like this number wasn’t the absolute limit.
"Probably? I’ve only ever detected traces of these seven, plus me, making eight." The Little Golden Dragon sounded uncertain.
Suddenly, the child-like spirit of the Primordial Celestial Mirror stepped forward, puffing out its chest proudly. "What does a broken thing like him know? Ask me your second question—I’ll give you the exact answer!"
Chen Yi gave it a strange look. "Isn’t this something obvious? The number of Chaos is fixed at nine. Do I even need to ask?"
The mirror spirit smirked, hands in its pockets, tilting its head at a 45-degree angle to gaze at the sky. "If it were that simple, do you think I’d bother bringing it up?"
"Then don’t bother. I won’t ask." Chen Yi waved it off. These things followed fate—what was meant to be his would come naturally, and what wasn’t shouldn’t be forced.
Even if he knew how many Chaos Treasures existed, so what?
Could he actually find them?
If it were that easy, wouldn’t Wuji have already hoarded them all?
Even someone as wealthy as Ling Xiao, who ruled for nine great epochs, only managed to obtain three Chaos Treasures by sheer luck—and two of them, the Bronze Coffin and the Karmic Weaving Disk, were acquired before he even became an Immortal Emperor.
So, Chen Yi was just curious about the total number, wondering if he might have a shot at getting his hands on an intact one.
Now that he knew for sure there were eight, with the Karmic Weaving Disk crippled by the Little Golden Dragon, the Primal Chaos Bell and Bronze Coffin in Ling Xiao’s possession, the Cauldron of Creation owned by Wuji, and the Primordial Mirror belonging to Xie Buruo of the Divine Realm—that left three unaccounted for!
Three whole Chaos Treasures still up for grabs!
The Soul Suppressing Bell, the Reincarnation Seal, and the Fate-Reversing Banner!
Chen Yi committed these three to memory, knowing he’d be obsessing over them for a long time.
Why?
Because the overpowered mechanics of Chaos Treasures were just too damn tempting!
"Hey, wait—why aren’t you asking? You still have two questions left! What else do you want to know?!"
Since Chen Yi refused to ask, the mirror spirit grew agitated.
"See? Getting impatient again!" Chen Yi shook his head lightly. "There’s plenty of time. Relax. Now, for the second question..."
"Are the Dao traces in your origin space remnants left behind by the ancient powerhouses of the Divine Realm?"
The mirror spirit fell silent at once.
This was one of the Divine Realm’s core secrets. It could choose not to answer, but not answering wasn’t an option either.
So, silence was the best response—because this was an undeniable truth. When Xie Buruo agreed to lend it out, there was an implicit intention to showcase the Divine Realm’s remaining strength.
After all, Chen Yi was unfathomably deep, and the Divine Realm was now just ruins, even forcibly renamed the Realm of Calamity. If they didn’t display some power, how could they negotiate as equals with the Immortal Realm?
The Divine Realm could not afford to be treated as disposable cannon fodder!
Thus, they had to reveal some of their cards, forcing this man to show some respect—though it didn’t seem to be working, given how casually he dismissed everything...
"Fine, I get it." Chen Yi had his answer and moved on. "Last question."
"Did Xie Buruo’s sudden change in attitude happen because one of his elders has returned from the grave?!"
The mirror spirit’s heart lurched, but it forced itself to stay calm. "Ah, if only that were true... But the Cataclysm back then was too devastating. They’ve all been buried by history, and the Immortal Realm even nailed the coffin shut. The chances of them fighting their way back are slim..."
"Stop guessing. I’ll tell you outright—it was the Karmic·Jade Balance Key of the Abyssal Void who intervened. It wanted to test you. If you return me on time, it will agree to meet you!"
"There’s still an hour left before the deadline. Since we’ve finished our business, why not send me back now?"
The mirror spirit peered at Chen Yi tentatively.
But Chen Yi said nothing, his deep gaze boring into the spirit until it broke out in a cold sweat, trembling under the pressure.
Purple Star Immortal Court, Treasury Division.
Ever since Ye Wuchen, the Second-Rank Heavenly Official of the Main Court, was reassigned to a secret mission, the Treasury Division’s operations had largely fallen into the hands of a mere Ninth-Rank Wealth Attendant—Fang Fan, a lowly Deputy Spirit-Level official.
According to the Purple Star Immortal Court’s ranking system, officials started at the Tenth-Rank as wandering immortal laborers, climbing step by step: Ninth-Rank (Deputy Spirit-Level), Eighth-Rank (Full Spirit-Level), Seventh-Rank (Deputy Deity-Level), Sixth-Rank (Full Deity-Level), Fifth-Rank (Deputy Immortal-Level), Fourth-Rank (Full Immortal-Level), Third-Rank (Deputy Court-Level), Second-Rank (Full Court-Level), First-Rank (Deputy Heavenly-Level), and finally, the pinnacle—Heavenly-Level!
Ten tiers of celestial bureaucracy, each a world apart!
The gap between Deputy Spirit-Level and Full Court-Level was like heaven and earth!
So why was the entire Treasury Division’s workload handed to Fang Fan?
Was it because the Treasury was understaffed and its evaluations too strict?
Or was it because Fang Fan’s father was also a Full Court-Level official, making him a nepo baby?
Neither!
It was simply because Fang Fan’s luck was absurd. In a division filled with lucky individuals, he stood at the very top. Setting aside cultivation, in terms of sheer fortune, he could rival even the Chief Deity, Ye Wuchen!
The only issue was his lack of seniority—he’d only interned in the Treasury for half a year before breaking through to the Pseudo-Immortal realm under the baptism of heavenly Dao essence. He skipped the Tenth-Rank entirely, directly becoming a Ninth-Rank Wealth Attendant. His rise was too fast, lacking the necessary merits for further promotion.
After all, the Purple Star Immortal Court was no longer in its chaotic founding era. Heavenly laws and regulations were now well-established, and the days of jumping straight to Second-Rank were long gone. To climb, one needed achievements that could silence all doubt!
Of course, it wasn’t just about convincing his own division. Given Fang Fan’s ridiculous luck, every single member of the Treasury respected him—evident from how the workload shifted to him the moment Ye Wuchen was reassigned.
Instead, it had to be publicly announced to ensure the entire Celestial Court was convinced, so the Celestial Pivot Bureau could proceed with the promotion paperwork. Otherwise, someone might later accuse Fang Fan’s father, the Director of the Celestial Mechanism Bureau, of pulling strings behind the scenes and anonymously report it to the Inspection Office—that would be a mess.
Following procedure was essential; every action had to leave a trace.
"Brother Fang Fan, I’m not saying this to discourage you, but you’ve only just broken through to the Pseudo-Immortal realm. At most, you can last three days in the Void Expanse—what can you accomplish in such a short time? Why not take more time to consolidate your foundation?"
"And have you even discussed this trip with Director Fang Zheng?"
Fu Li, the Sixth-Rank Merit Auditor of the Ministry of Wealth and a True God, looked at the expedition proposal Fang Fan had submitted and couldn’t help but offer some earnest advice.
For now, he was still Fang Fan’s superior, but in a few years, he’d likely be the one addressing Fang Fan as "sir."
Putting aside the fact that Fang Fan’s father was the Director of the Celestial Mechanism Bureau, the kid himself was incredibly capable—talented, well-connected, and ridiculously lucky. His future was boundless!
Fang Fan pondered for a moment before replying firmly, "Brother Fu Li, please keep this from my father!"
"I really have to go this time. To be honest, right after breaking through to Pseudo-Immortal, I suddenly felt an inexplicable sense of destiny. There’s a mysterious call coming from beyond the domain, and the path to advancement lies within it!"
"I’m desperate to progress!"
Hearing this, Fu Li immediately grew serious. "Director Fang Zheng doesn’t know? This journey is fraught with danger. Are you sure you can handle it alone? Do you need me to come with you?"
Fang Fan shook his head. "Brother Fu Li, it’s not that I don’t want to share this opportunity with you—you know I’d never hoard credit. But this time, I have to go alone. The chance is fleeting; I can’t afford to delay."
Fu Li fell silent for a long moment before finally looking at Fang Fan with a complicated gaze. "Your potential is undeniable. Don’t rush things—ignore the gossip out there, treat it like the ramblings of fools. If you encounter danger on this trip, don’t act recklessly. You must return safely, or I won’t be able to face your father!"
Fang Fan felt a warmth in his heart and replied solemnly, "Don’t worry, Brother Fu Li. You know how much I value my life. I won’t take any unnecessary risks!"
] This is a dark fantasy-themed dating simulation game. The main gameplay involves containing various monster girls and investigating the truth of a world shrouded in mist alongside your companions. However, due to his love for the dark and bizarre atmosphere, Luo Wei ended up turning a dating game into a detective mystery game. Women? Women only slow down his quickdraw! To Luo Wei, the female leads in the game are more like tools to perfectly clear levels and squeeze out rewards. For Luo Wei, flirting with every girl he meets and then discarding them is standard procedure. Worried about characters losing affection points? No need. With his maxed-out charm stat, Luo Wei is practically a "human incubus." A little psychological manipulation and those points come right back. It's a bit scummy, but the paper cutout heroines in the game won't actually come at him with real cleavers. However... Luo Wei has transmigrated. He's accidentally entered the second playthrough of this game. His past actions have caused all the girls to transform into terrifying yanderes. Due to the game's setting, most of the heroines he once contained are "troubled girls." Obsessive, twisted, mentally unstable, all aggressive yanderes... The type who will kill you if they can't have you... Luo Wei wants to cry but has no tears left. "I really just want to survive..." In short, this is a story of battling wits and engaging in a love-hate relationship with yanderes.
he colors of other people’s emotions. Light red meant anxiety. Gray meant exhaustion. Orange meant excitement. Yellow... meant repression. At the same time, he could gain unlimited control over one of those colors. Pale cyan: relaxation. Using this ability, he started offering “two-yuan hugs,” spending an afternoon exchanging emotional-color experiences with others. Then came his final female customer of the day— a girl whose emotional color was pure black... —— A week later, Xu Chuan had become skilled at using pale cyan—Relaxation—treating it like a bottle of menthol balm whenever he needed it. That was when he discovered he had unlocked another unlimited emotional color: Purple, the color of fear. So these emotional colors refresh every week? Fine, I take it back—I’ll never call you useless again... —— Much later, after Xu Chuan had accumulated countless emotional abilities, one night, he suddenly found himself inside someone else’s dream. There, he could use the emotional colors he possessed to paint. And in her dream, he painted her a shower of pink shooting stars, spreading across the depths of the night sky...
uld barely embark on the path to immortality. Just as he was on the verge of death, his golden finger awakened. No matter whether it was poison, drained blood and vital energy, diminished lifespan, or any other physical debuff caused by paying a price—once midnight passed, everything would be refreshed. From then on, whenever someone asked what kind of person Chu Ran was, the answer was simple: Forbidden arts that other cultivators dared not learn? Chu Ran would learn them. Prices that even demonic cultivators dared not pay? Chu Ran would pay them. Lifespan that even righteous cultivators dared not burn? Chu Ran would burn it. All the blood essence in his body? Take it. Want both his hands and feet? He would cut them off and send them to you. You say he’s finished? He wasn’t built to sit idle. You think he’s gone mad? No—he was simply waiting for midnight. From that day onward, Chu Ran would respect neither Heaven nor Earth, bow to neither gods nor ghosts. He had only one wish: For midnight to arrive a little sooner.
ions, keeping it grounded and realistic】 After quitting his job, office worker Su Yang accidentally binds with the "Enjoy Life System." As the name suggests, simply by indulging in life's pleasures, he can earn random rewards from the system—no need to spend money on beautiful women or grovel before anyone. Just enjoy, and the money follows, making it all about effortless fun. The system comes with a scanning feature, allowing him to establish a favorability bond with women rated 85 points or above. Every 20-point increase in favorability unlocks additional rewards. After suffering through over twenty years of hardship, Su Yang trembles with excitement, his dull eyes suddenly gleaming with newfound hope. "Enjoy life? How hard could that be?"
