"Lately, even Qinghe County has seen an influx of martial artists," Li Mo mused as he gazed at the bustling street. Ahead, a group of swordsmen from Yunzhou stood out—each clad in white robes, long swords strapped to their backs, shivering like quails in the heavy snow. Yet, none of that dampened their belief in their own dashing appearance.
A true martial artist could circulate their inner energy to ward off the cold, but who in their right mind would keep it flowing nonstop for twelve hours a day? Unless, of course, they were like Li Mo, who possessed seven Mystic Pills.
"Li... Brother Li?"
Just as Li Mo was pondering whether his recent special effects had been a tad excessive, a familiar voice called out to him. It was none other than the famed "Three Heroes of Hengyun"—Wu Chushu, Cao Mu, and Bai Jinghong.
"What brings you here?"
"Are you also heading to Rotten Ke Mountain to investigate? A few days ago, ten thousand swords filled the sky there—an earth-shaking spectacle, truly grand."
"Ten thousand swords are impressive, sure, but a bit overdone these days. Personally, I prefer today’s phenomenon—the Heavenly Furnace Refining the Sun."
Li Mo nodded, giving himself a modest evaluation of his recent work.
Cao Mu: "?"
Wu Chushu: "??"
Bai Jinghong: "..."
How did he know such details? How could he recount today’s celestial phenomenon with such precision?
Noticing their bewildered expressions, Li Mo cleared his throat lightly.
"It’s almost New Year’s. You’re still heading to Rotten Ke Mountain?"
Bai Jinghong shook his head, maintaining the aloof demeanor of a lone swordsman.
"Brother Li, you haven’t been idle this New Year either, have you?"
Once absent from the Hidden Dragon Ranking, both Li Mo and Ying Bing had now surged into the top five.
Which rising star on the Hidden Dragon Ranking wouldn’t want to compete for the top spot?
But the current leader was none other than Jiang Yu, the Crown Prince of Great Yu—a prodigy said to rival his ancestor, the Martial Emperor. Backed by an entire dynasty and showered with the finest resources from across the land, he loomed over the rankings like an insurmountable peak.
To surpass him? Talent and effort alone wouldn’t cut it—one needed heaven-defying fortune.
And to many, the legacy of Rotten Ke Mountain was precisely that opportunity.
"I’ve been quite busy," Li Mo admitted, tilting his head at a perfect 45-degree angle, his expression as cold as ice.
Ah, nights were spent in dual cultivation with the "Ice Block" (Ying Bing), planning tomorrow’s special effects, and tutoring the little Princess Jiang.
Days were spent riding his somersault cloud to Rotten Ke Mountain to add more spectacle. And with New Year’s approaching, he still had to maintain the collective spiritual energy of the southern tribes.
Either he was showing off in public, or he was on his way to do so.
Young Li was exhausted.
Wu Chushu’s expression turned solemn.
"It seems Brother Li has prepared thoroughly."
"Of course. How else could I enjoy the New Year in peace?"
Li Mo spoke as if it were obvious, then paused.
...Wait.
Where’s my Ice Block?
She was holding my hand just a moment ago—how did she vanish in two sentences?
As Li Mo scanned the crowd, he noticed Bai Jinghong and the others staring past him, their faces pale as if they’d seen a ghost.
New Year’s wasn’t supposed to be this eerie, was it?
A chill ran down Li Mo’s spine as he turned—and froze.
There stood Ying Bing, clad in a striking red dress, holding a tiger-head hat—the kind meant for children, adorable and tiny.
Her cold, distant beauty only intensified in the new crimson attire. She squeezed the hat thoughtfully.
"Li Mo, does this look nice?"
"We don’t have any kids at home."
"Do you like it?" Ying Bing hugged the hat, her voice soft.
Li Mo hesitated. "I wouldn’t even fit my head in..."
Undeterred, Ying Bing tugged the hat onto his head—and somehow, it worked.
Thus, the dashing Li Mo acquired his New Year’s skin:
"Divine Hammer Little Tyrant—Limited Tiger-Head Edition."
Li Mo: "..."
He didn’t dare imagine what the Yantian Sect would write in the next Hidden Dragon Ranking if they saw this.
"Ten taels of silver. Not too expensive..."
Ying Bing adjusted the tiger whiskers on his head, murmuring to herself.
"Wait, how much?"
"Ten taels."
"Ten taels for a hat? If it were made from an actual tiger’s head, maybe! Which stall was this? Even immortals wouldn’t charge so outrageously. Let’s go—I’ll back you up."
Did they think the "Little Scourge of Qinghe County" was just for show?
Li Mo took two steps forward—then doubled back to take Ying Bing’s hand before nodding to the Three Heroes and leaving.
Ying Bing glanced at the trio, finding them vaguely familiar. She wanted to greet them but realized she couldn’t recall their names.
So instead, she swept them with an icy stare before turning away with regal grace.
"..."
Bai Jinghong, Wu Chushu, and Cao Mu fell into deep contemplation, wondering if they’d just witnessed something surreal.
After a long silence, Cao Mu spoke, gripping his sword.
"Li Mo and Ying Bing must have made extensive preparations for Rotten Ke Mountain’s trial. What we saw might just be the surface."
"Right. Behind the scenes, they’ve probably devised some method to seize the opportunity in one stroke," Bai Jinghong added.
He himself often trained in secret, telling Wu Chushu and Cao Mu he was at the pleasure houses to lull them into complacency—until he was caught.
Because Wu Chushu actually spent all his time at the pleasure houses.
Wu Chushu crossed his arms, narrowing his eyes at the retreating figures.
Everyone knew Li Mo had always outshone him in public displays—his exploits in the southern frontier were legendary.
He was curious how Li Mo and Ying Bing had both climbed into the Hidden Dragon Ranking’s top five.
"Should we follow them?"
"Mm. ‘Other people’s strengths can polish our own jade.’"
"I’d also like to see how they train to progress so quickly."
And so, the trio trailed after them, soon spotting Li Mo and Ying Bing again in the lively streets.
Li Mo was at a hat stall, still holding Ying Bing’s hand.
"Ten taels? Boss, isn’t that a bit much?"
"Ahem... Young Master Li, what price did you have in mind?"
The vendor clearly knew Li Mo—and sounded nervous.
Li Mo held up an 'eight' with his fingers.
"Eight taels?"
"Eight coppers."
"???? Young Master Li, that’s not how bargaining works!"
The vendor nearly fainted, then stiffened as a terrifying realization struck him.
In Li Mo, he saw the shadow of someone who haunted every small merchant on this street—
Gu Xueqin!
And so, the scene inexplicably ignited.
Li Mo and the vendor launched into a thrilling, high-stakes battle of haggling.
"..."
A flicker of confusion passed through Ying Bing’s serene eyes.
Ten taels of silver—no, even ten taels of gold—meant nothing to him.
So why was he negotiating as if it were a life-or-death duel between masters?
"One tael and four maces. If you lower the price, I’ll take two. No? Fine, I’m leaving. I’m really leaving now."
In the end, Li Mo deployed the "walk-away bluff" tactic—and emerged victorious.
Turning back to Ying Bing, he grinned and lifted his chin like a triumphant general.
Ying Bing pursed her lips, took out the money jar from the big-headed doll, and began counting the silver inside.
As she counted, a faint glimmer of delight flickered in her cool, downcast eyes.
"So bargaining is actually possible."
"Of course it is."
Li Mo paid the money and picked up a white-furred cat-eared hat from the stall.
The stall owner said with a wry smile, "Madam Li is terrifyingly good at haggling. I dread it whenever she comes around."
Hearing this, Ying Bing's gaze wavered slightly, and her hand paused as she watched Li Mo adjusting the fluffy white cat hat.
"Li Mo."
"Hmm?"
"I want to learn too."
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?"
] [Lone Wolf, No Male Gaze] [Protagonist is pursued early on; extreme protagonist-stans, stay away!] The "Carnival Paradise" descends and slowly devours the real world in the form of a game. By chance, Zhu Yan awakens the talent [Roleplay], becoming one of the first beta players. He thought he could develop safely, but after clearing the first instance, he is branded by humanity as the chief culprit behind the game's spread—a traitorous villain. A villain? Who would ever... become one! He'll be the villain! From then on, Zhu Yan is not only a player but also a lackey for the Carnival Paradise. Between the straight path and the crooked path, he chooses the con. With his left hand, he dons the villain's mantle, staging scenes within instances, infuriating players who decry him as a despicable traitor, all while the game happily promotes him. With his right hand, he joins the non-human organization "Fangcun Mountain," which opposes the Carnival Paradise, transforming into a mysterious player who slaughters game bosses, earning cheers of "Long live the expert!" from fellow players. Gradually, Zhu Yan rises to become an S-rank human player in Fangcun Mountain's archives, while also being the Carnival Paradise's certified top game Boss. But when the final war erupts and both major factions place their hopes in him— Players tag his various aliases: "Experts, this offensive depends on you." The Carnival Paradise's supreme Boss throws an arm around his neck: "Bro, you're the iron, I'm the steel; you can't let me down again!"
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!"
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.”
