The Stingy Chat Group Creator, The Generous Chen Yi

A true man standing between heaven and earth—how could he endure living subserviently forever?

Nonsense, all nonsense!

To survive in this world, one must rely on connections and strength!

Ye Wuchen once believed himself to be an invincible hero, his veins pulsing with arrogance and ignorance, his every breath exuding an air of unmatched superiority.

But then he met that man—and realized he was nothing but a pitiful clown.

The powerful backing he had relied on since his debut was effortlessly dismantled by Brother Yi, and his so-called strength? Barely enough to bully amateurs. Against Brother Yi, he stood no chance but to be toyed with.

So...

Stop yapping at me!

I’m sticking with Brother Yi—no one can change my mind, I mean it!

The moment he cast aside his pride, the world suddenly felt vast and open.

Ye Wuchen’s dignity shattered into pieces as he eagerly scampered off to train his Dao Heart with the Nightmare Spirits, just as Brother Yi had commanded.

On the way, he spotted Gu Yuan grinding two of his former subordinates into the dirt—and even had the courtesy to greet him:

"Busy there, Yuanzi?"

A single glance told Gu Yuan that the former group leader had completely surrendered. This was the same man who used to look down his nose at everyone, brimming with arrogance. Now? Humble, even respectful.

Gu Yuan returned the courtesy with a slight bow. "Indeed, just sparring with these two juniors. Care to join me for tea later?"

Ye Wuchen waved modestly. "There’ll be time for that. Right now, Brother Yi’s got me tempering my Dao Heart with Nightmare Spirits—I’m swamped."

"Ah, fair enough. Don’t let me keep you." Gu Yuan’s lips twitched, struggling to suppress a smirk.

Honestly, this was the first time he’d ever seen Ye Wuchen act so polite. The man used to call him "trash" without hesitation. Now? Full respect.

It just showed how crucial it was to follow the right person. The future was bright—those past humiliations? Mere trifles, nothing more.

Unlike Gu Yuan, the two battered members of the second group felt their breath hitch at the sight of their once-proud leader groveling.

Was this really the same man they knew?

We were ready to fight to the death, my liege—why did you surrender first?!

"Brother Yuan, please—no more! I apologize, I’ll make amends for my past disrespect..."

The stronger of the two, "Mwahaha Ridiculous," was the first to yield. He couldn’t take it anymore.

Though his combat power only measured 1.7 billion, his innate treasure—which boosted his strength by nearly 50%—allowed him to challenge early-stage True Immortals with 2.5 billion power!

Logically, even if he couldn’t beat Gu Yuan, he shouldn’t have been crushed like this. But somehow, Gu Yuan had learned some bizarre amplification technique—without even using a treasure, his fists had cracked Mwahaha’s innate artifact! Each punch grew stronger than the last. If this kept up, it wouldn’t just be the treasure breaking—he would be next.

Well, if their 3.8-billion-power leader had surrendered, what shame was there in following suit?

"Lin Buran! Your groveling disgusts me!"

But the other subordinate, "Super Invincible," roared as he slowly straightened his battered body, his swollen eyes burning with unyielding defiance.

He raised his fists, his damaged innate treasure—the Peerless Gauntlets—materializing once more.

"Gu Yuan, you’ve really climbed high now, haven’t you? Flaunting your power like some upstart?"

"Heh. You were my inferior once—you’ll always be."

"Meng Chao, what are you doing?!" Lin Buran demanded. Since when had this usually cautious man developed such a death wish?

But Meng Chao ignored him, growling through gritted teeth:

"If the path is blocked—smash through with your fists!"

"Gu Yuan, COME AT ME!!!"

He couldn’t discard his pride—so he chose to burn it all in one glorious blaze.

Gu Yuan grinned. "Now that’s more like it. As a sign of respect, I’ll fight you one-handed."

Meng Chao’s fists clenched. "YOU ARROGANT—!"

Three breaths later.

Meng Chao lay sprawled on the ground, his body broken, his bones turned to jelly—only his mouth remained unyielding.

"I... I refuse to accept this..."

---

The No. 7 Dreamweaver Secret Realm operated at full capacity, its ten billion Destiny Passives stacked without limit. Unlimited healing restored all injuries, boundless energy replenished exhaustion, and endless Nightmare Spirits served as sparring partners...

Whether it was the veterans of the second group, the rookies from Group 108, or the seventy-six Body Unity experts from the Purple Star Continent—who had never experienced such cheats in their diligent cultivation—none had ever encountered such exhilarating training!

No distractions, no hesitation, no mind games—just pure, instinctive combat. Every flaw, every imperfection in their techniques was magnified tenfold. A single misstep, a correction delayed by even 0.01 milliseconds, and they’d be instantly defeated, their health bars emptied, left only to listen to the chime of the Destiny Passive triggering...

There was no denying it—this was combat in its purest form!

While tempering their Dao Hearts, their foundations were polished to near-perfection. Nearly every participant saw staggering improvements.

In just four weeks—twenty-eight days—even among the seventy-six Body Unity late-stage cultivators who had snuck in, thirty-one broke through their bottlenecks, unable to suppress their advancement any longer, directly ascending to the Tribulation Transcendence stage!

Admittedly, some of this was due to their accumulated potential—but the primary reason was the Dreamweaver Secret Realm’s absurd refining effects.

These cultivators had been stuck for years, held back by tiny, nearly imperceptible cracks in their Dao Foundations. To patch these flaws through normal cultivation would’ve taken centuries!

Yet here? Twenty-eight days of relentless training was all it took.

Truly, the immortal who created this chat group had some impressive methods—though he was a bit stingy. A single Destiny Passive cost twenty billion points! How could he expect to properly nurture his members with such ridiculous prices?

Chen Yi, on the other hand, was generous. Ten billion Destiny Passives per person—within twenty-eight days, he had drained a full 3% of the No. 7 Dreamweaver Secret Realm’s law essence!

For context, in the eight thousand years since the realm’s creation, less than 0.1% had been consumed. Its true potential had always been suppressed—until Chen Yi unleashed it.

A shame, really. All good things must come to an end.

With the monthly inspection system about to reactivate, Chen Yi had to erase all traces of his tampering before the auditors arrived.

"Not bad. Everyone’s trained enough—time to distribute the rewards."

With a thought, the divine sense lurking in the system’s backend stirred to life.