In the backyard of the tavern.
"First time using the Seventy-Two Transformations—feels quite marvelous."
Little Li stretched his limbs, his voice deepening to a low, deliberate tone, almost like a forced baritone.
He pulled out a bronze mirror and gave himself a quick glance.
His current appearance was startling: scales of a flood dragon covered his cheeks, and a pair of horns protruded from his forehead.
He had taken on the humanoid form of a Mingjiao (Singing Flood Dragon).
Behind him, the faint silhouette of a flood dragon flickered.
With a thought, he suddenly felt his body elongate, as if surrounded by mist. His hands transformed into dragon claws, and the fine hairs by his lips grew into long whiskers. The change was swift, but fortunately, Li Mo reacted just as quickly, hastily removing the winter coat made by Princess Little Jiang.
Now, he had fully transformed into a Mingjiao, stretching four zhang (about 40 feet) in length.
"My strength has increased... and I can even manipulate water vapor..."
"Holy crap, a monster!"
Murong Xiao's fingers trembled, his face filled with shock.
Li Mo: "..."
Dude, maybe look in a mirror first?
"I get it now, I get it." Murong Xiao fell into deep thought, his eyes brimming with newfound wisdom.
"What did you get?"
"Brother Li and I must be family! That’s why you recognized me back in the Divine Edge Cave!"
Murong Xiao stepped closer, marveling as he examined Li Mo.
Though he himself carried Mingjiao bloodline, he had never fully transformed into a flood dragon’s form. This was his first time seeing a true "family member."
Look at those scales! Those claws! Those majestic horns! That exasperated expression!
No doubt about it!
In an instant, Murong Xiao’s gaze toward Li Mo grew even warmer.
"Brother Murong, I know you’re excited, but could you stop groping me?"
The little Mingjiao Li wanted to facepalm, only to realize his claws were too short to reach his forehead.
Come to think of it, flood dragons and true dragons had different numbers of claws, but their lengths were about the same.
How did they scratch their backs if they got itchy?
Li Mo intended to clear his throat but ended up snorting instead. "Anyway, Brother Murong, this is just a transformation technique, not an actual bloodline power."
Murong Xiao: "Huh?"
His CPU was overheating.
A transformation technique could make him purer than an actual bloodline bearer?
Watching the kind-hearted Murong fall into deep contemplation, Li Mo sighed in relief.
No wonder this was a divine ability passed down by the Monkey King. This wasn’t just transformation—it was indistinguishable from reality.
No wonder Princess Iron Fan mistook someone else for her husband...
With this, their journey to the Southern Border just became much more feasible.
"It’s time to set off..."
"Boss—HOLY SHT!"
Second Xu had just entered the backyard when his eyes rolled back, and he fainted on the spot.
Li Mo sighed and reverted to his human form, summoning a soothing moonlight glow.
Bathed in the gentle radiance, Second Xu slowly regained consciousness, his face full of panic.
"Boss! I just saw a flood dragon THIS BIG!"
"You must’ve had a nightmare."
"Really? I’ve never had dreams like that before..."
"Don’t you remember? You’re mentally ill. Having weird dreams is totally normal."
Li Mo patted his shoulder reassuringly.
The moonlight shimmered.
"...That makes sense."
Second Xu calmed down, choosing to trust his boss.
He even promised repeatedly that he’d take good care of the tavern while the boss was away.
After all, the pay was too good to pass up.
With a steady income, full benefits, and even retirement insurance, who in their right mind would go back to being an assassin?
"Don’t worry, Boss. I’ll keep the tavern running smoothly."
"Good. If you’re short on staff, just recruit a few experienced folks from outside. That syrup vendor seems decent—help him get back on his feet."
"Got it! I’ll make sure the tavern thrives and reaches new heights!"
"Excellent. That’s the spirit."
With the tavern affairs settled, Li Mo walked over to Murong Xiao and gave him a pat, rebooting his brain.
"Brother Murong, it’s time to go."
"Oh, right..."
Neither of them had much to pack—no need for luggage.
Amid Second Xu’s enthusiastic waves and the cheers of the entire street’s "reformed" assassins, the two left Fishdragon Street.
On the road.
"So... Brother Li, what kind of martial art is this? It’s incredible."
Murong Xiao had finally accepted that Li Mo wasn’t actually his long-lost kin, but curiosity still gnawed at him.
Li Mo pondered. "Aren’t there plenty of martial arts that imitate beasts and birds?"
"Right. Those are called ‘Form Imitation’ martial arts." Murong Xiao nodded.
He had learned a few himself, like Elder Hanhe’s White Crane Descends from the Clouds Fist.
"And the more accurate the imitation, the stronger the technique, right?"
"Yeah, that’s the general idea."
"Well, would you say my imitation is accurate?"
"0.o"
Murong Xiao felt there was logic in Li Mo’s words.
But something still felt off.
After a moment of contemplation, he decided to stop thinking about it.
Glancing around, he realized they weren’t heading toward the city gates but instead walking into an even more bustling district than Fishdragon Street.
"Brother Li, aren’t we going to the Southern Border?"
"We are. But the journey is long—best to prepare thoroughly."
Li Mo’s gaze settled on a towering building at the center of the street.
It stood out like a gilded phoenix, its roof tiles reflecting dazzling golden light under the sun. A resplendent signboard read:
[Prosperous Trade House]
His system storage held many treasures, but it wasn’t all-encompassing. A trade house would have a far more comprehensive selection.
Besides, his stock of body-refining elixirs and rare materials was running low.
Time for a shopping spree.
"Brother Li?"
The moment they stepped inside, a clerk at the counter called out.
Li Mo turned to see a pale, clean-shaven, somewhat timid middle-aged man. He didn’t recognize the face, but the voice sounded familiar.
"You are...?"
"It’s me, Huang Donglai."
The man adjusted the fake mustache glued to his upper lip and whispered.
"Brother Huang, you sure have a lot of identities..."
Li Mo chuckled before asking,
"Last time we met, you were a herb gatherer. How’d you end up as a clerk here?"
"Mainly... financial difficulties."
Huang Donglai smiled sheepishly. "The cost of living in Yunzhou is too high, and I needed to buy some medicinal ingredients for training."
"Prosperous Trade House pays well, and employees get discounts... even if the manager yells at me a lot. I just endure it."
Li Mo: "..."
No wonder you’re in disguise.
If you quit, they’d never track you down.
"Brother Li, here to buy something? I know this place inside out."
"Right. I’m heading to the Southern Border—any recommendations for preparations?"
Li Mo figured Huang Donglai would be the right person to ask.
Sure enough.
Huang Donglai grinned confidently.
"You’ve come to the right man. My hometown is in the Southern Border."
"How much are you planning to spend? Long journeys require thorough preparation."
"I have a deposit here. Let’s use that."
"Sure thing—wait, what?!"
Huang Donglai took the deposit slip, then froze.
Gasp.
Clerks at Prosperous Trade House earned commissions.
It seems he could pack up and leave at any moment.
As everyone knows, he is a man of few words and keeps a low profile.
But now, he feels like having the steward brew him a pot of tea.
grated, and just when he finally managed to get into an elite academy, he discovered that he actually had a system, and the way to earn rewards was extremely ridiculous. So for the sake of rewards, he had no choice but to start acting ridiculous as well. Su Cheng: "It's nothing but system quests after all." But later, what confused Su Cheng was that while he was already quite ridiculous, he never expected those serious characters to gradually become ridiculous too. And the way they looked at him became increasingly strange... (This synopsis doesn't do it justice, please read the full story)
ing gift was a patch of barren land, and disciples were all picked up along the way. He spent fifty years diligently building three "ramshackle little sects," thinking he could finally live a carefree life relying on his disciples. But right at the fifty-year mark, he was suddenly swept away by a spatial rift and exiled to the Chaos Desolation, the Disorderly Ruins. There was no spiritual energy there, only slaughter. Relying on the cultivation feedback from his disciples, Gu Changyuan hacked his way through a sea of blood for eleven hundred years. When the system finally fished him back out, he discovered the ramshackle little sects he'd built back then had developed a rather... unusual style. Hold on... I vanished for a thousand years, so how did my ramshackle little sects become holy lands?!
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.
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!"
