As the general outline appeared in his mind, Li Mo froze in place.
He felt as though he had been transported into a graveyard of weapons.
Blades, spears, swords, halberds—countless ordinary weapons lay scattered about, yet some carried such a lingering, ominous aura that even he felt a chill in his heart.
Among them sat a man clad in coarse linen, his face obscured, surrounded by countless sword marks.
The fluctuations of primordial energy around him were faint, almost imperceptible.
He gazed at the heavens, as if sensing something.
Hum—
A wooden sword appeared in his hand, causing every blade in the graveyard to resonate in response, like fish darting through the void.
He swung the sword toward the sky, and his withered body erupted with an unparalleled sword intent—as if drawing a divine blade from an unremarkable sheath.
One sword became nine, became ten thousand, became something beyond mere swordsmanship.
The void shattered.
Li Mo felt his mind tremble violently, as if pulled by an unseen force.
That glint of cold steel seemed to pierce through endless time and space, striking him from afar.
Unavoidable. Unblockable. Every variation, every possibility, contained within.
In the depths of his consciousness, the general outline flowed through him.
"Return to the maiden, approach the unerring; the unerring approaches the fellowship; the fellowship approaches the abundance; the first shifts to the third, the third to the seventh..."
"Haah..."
Li Mo's head throbbed with pain.
The system had already presented the essence to him in the gentlest way possible, yet the mental burden was still immense.
Had he not yet reached the Insight Realm, he likely would have lost consciousness, just as he had when receiving the Crimson Lotus Art of Karmic Flames.
The Nine Swords of Dugu embodied the pinnacle of variation and transformation.
Its profundity could no longer be called mere swordsmanship—it was a principle, expressed through the medium of the sword.
No wonder it had no rank.
The martial evaluation system of the Nine Heavens and Ten Earths simply couldn't measure it!
"I wonder if my martial insights will be enough to burn through..."
For the first time, Li Mo felt uncertain.
Despite possessing seven hundred and eighty years' worth of martial insights, he suddenly felt... poor.
But.
For a young dreamer like Li Mo, who yearned to become a swordsman, the Nine Swords of Dugu was nothing short of a dream come true.
Yet the greatest challenge of this martial art lay in a single word:
Comprehension!
Now that it lay before him, he couldn’t just stand there and stare.
"Is the ice block awake yet?"
Whenever Li Mo practiced swordsmanship with the "ice block," he could save a considerable amount of martial insight.
......
Next room.
Seated atop a bed of Cold Marrow Jade, Ying Bing sat cross-legged, continuously refining her spiritual will with the essence of the Lunar Yin.
Within the newly opened acupoint in her body,
a crystalline figurine, carved as if from glass, shimmered brilliantly.
As the Lunar Yin energy circulated and her focus deepened, divine patterns on the figurine began to take shape.
Alongside the Lunar Yin patterns, traces resembling avian creatures flickered in and out with each breath of energy.
This process had lasted the entire night.
After a moment, Ying Bing opened her eyes, about to rise—only to see illusory words hovering before her.
[You have an unclaimed reward: Grade D-Lower.]
Ying Bing prepared to ignore it.
After last time, she had no desire to...
Suddenly—
[YOU! HAVE! AN! UNCLAIMED! GRADE! D-LOWER! REWARD!!!!]
The system’s words, as if afraid she might miss them, enlarged tenfold.
Ying Bing: ".....No need."
[Detected the word 'need' in the host's response.]
[Reward distribution in progress....]
Ying Bing grew increasingly certain that the system’s rewards were anything but good.
Fine. Let it be.
This time, no matter what it was, she would simply disregard it.
[This Grade D-Lower reward is:]
The privilege to strike Li Mo’s hand with your buttocks.
Ying Bing: "?"
At the sight of this so-called "reward," the corner of her striking phoenix-like eyes twitched.
You call this... a reward?
The cold, dignified Empress of the Phoenix Heaven was struggling to maintain her composure.
If the system had a physical form,
it would have already been reduced to dust by her sword.
"If I don’t do it, the reward doesn’t exist."
Ying Bing smoothed her brows.
She had long lost interest in the system’s evaluation rewards.
Because none of them were proper!
The ranking rewards were enough.
Just then—
Knock knock—
"Hey, ice block, you awake?"
"Time for sword practice."
Li Mo’s voice came from outside.
Right.
After obtaining the Divine Skyheart Sword Canon, she hadn’t practiced it yet.
Well, time for swordsmanship.
Ying Banished the absurd system reward from her mind, her gaze steadying as she picked up Frostfall and opened the door.
The moment the door opened, their eyes met.
That face, bathed in the morning light—bright, handsome, and smiling.
After entering the Insight Realm... his aura seemed to have changed slightly?
Admittedly,
Li Mo was exceptionally good-looking, inheriting the best traits of both his father and mother. His smile, in particular, carried a warmth that could melt hearts.
If he were to strike...
Wait.
Ying Bing’s thoughts faltered.
What was that just now?
Li Mo, oblivious, asked, "So, uh... feeling better today?"
That certain visitor definitely hadn’t left yet.
Some girls suffered more than others, writhing in pain.
"Hm? Mm..."
Ying Bing nodded reflexively.
Better? Worse?
Right now, she wasn’t feeling great at all...
Because that strange sensation wasn’t just psychological.
Itchy.
Like a tiny ant crawling down her tailbone...
This had to be the so-called reward’s doing!
"If you’re feeling better, let’s grab breakfast first."
"We can practice after eating."
Li Mo, completely unaware of Ying Bing’s inner turmoil, turned and headed downstairs.
It wasn’t until breakfast that he noticed something was off.
"Master’s sleeping in again."
In the courtyard, Li Mo scratched his chin as he sat down with a basket of freshly steamed buns.
He took a bite, only to realize Ying Bing was still standing.
"Sit down and eat."
Li Mo found it odd.
With her imposing presence just standing there, he felt like sitting on pins and needles.
Actually...
Ying Bing felt even more like sitting on pins and needles.
The moment she had sat down earlier, that sensation had surged even stronger.
"No, I’ll stand."
"Are you sure you’re okay?"
Seeing Ying Bing’s stiff posture and flushed neck, Li Mo frowned.
"I... can handle it!"
Ying Bing took a slow breath, her slender fingers tightening around her sword hilt.
Her ice-clear eyes hardened with resolve.
If she could empty her mind, then... what did this matter?
She had endured far worse.
When forging her Dharma Body, she had seemingly provoked the heavens—cataclysmic tribulations descended, as if intent on erasing her from existence.
That agony, too, she had withstood!
All because of her unyielding will!
"Let’s begin."
Ying Bing drew Frostfall, its edge gleaming like snow.
Her dark hair fluttered, but nothing could obscure the fire in her gaze.
Li Mo scratched his head.
What was with the ice block’s sudden competitive drive?
Whenever they sparred, he was usually the one learning from her.
Hmmmm.
Was she testing his progress?
"I won’t hold back!"
Li Mo stood, still munching on his bun.
Armed with the Nine Swords of Dugu (even if he hadn’t mastered it yet).
But at the very least, show that ice block a thing or two!

pression Bureau] Transported to a fantasy world overrun by demons and monsters, Gu Qingfeng becomes a jailer in the Demon Suppression Prison of the Great Yan Dynasty's Demon Suppression Bureau. From this point on, bizarre cases frequently occur in the Demon Suppression Prison, once known as hell on earth and infamous for its gloomy, terrifying atmosphere! Why do the demons and monsters in the prison wail miserably every night? Why has the corpse demon, capable of transforming into various beauties, donned black stockings and switched careers to become a foot massage therapist? Why has the eye demon, expert in soul-snatching and illusions, turned into a VR headset? Why is the fox spirit performing otaku dances? Are all these occurrences a twisted expression of demonic nature, or a descent into moral depravity? After peeling away layer upon layer of mystery, all clues ultimately point to a jailer named Gu Qingfeng. Gu Qingfeng: "Hehehe... My dear demons and monsters, whose card shall we flip today?"

d intelligence to keep the plot moving, and sometimes even the protagonists are forced into absurdly dumb decisions. Why does the A-list celebrity heroine in urban romance novels ditch the top-tier movie star and become a lovestruck fool for a pockmarked male lead? Why do the leads in historical tragedy novels keep dancing between love and death, only for the blind healer to end up suffering the most? And Gu Wei never expected that after finally landing a villain role to stir up trouble, she’d pick the wrong gender! No choice now—she’ll just have to crush the protagonists as a girl!

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.”