The inaugural Mahjong God Tournament of Qingyuan Sect concluded successfully.
The main reason was that the other three players couldn't continue. Watching Little Li rest his head on the flat abdomen of the "Ice Block," the trio wore identical expressions of resentment.
It seemed even more unbearable than losing money.
Elder Hanhe reminded them to visit the Divine Arms Peak before ending this frivolous pastime. Shang Wu was left with a mountain of debt—though Little Li had no intention of making her repay—her elder's stipend had already been completely lost.
If they kept playing, she’d be down to her last undergarments.
With too few players left, Qin Yuzhi, still unsatisfied, sighed reluctantly:
"Guess I’ll have to play in my dreams again."
"You can control your own dreams?"
Li Mo gathered the mahjong tiles, asking curiously.
"A trivial skill, really. Don’t forget I’m a Seventh Realm cultivator."
Qin Yuzhi sniffed, looking rather smug:
"Memory is the root of dreams. Yun Mengxian’s revival is pervasive, so to ensure I don’t slack off even in sleep, I developed this secret technique—aside from traversing others’ dreams, I can also shape my own."
"Well? Want to learn?"
Li Mo was merely intrigued by the peculiar art.
But for the "Ice Block," it might be worth mastering—better safe than sorry.
"No need to repay your mahjong debts."
"Hmph, this technique isn’t easy to learn. But since you’re sincerely asking, I’ll humor you with a lesson."
Half an hour later.
The expression on the former cult leader’s face cycled through: "Not bad, but needs practice"; "Hmm, you’ve got some talent"; and finally, "Who am I? Where am I? What am I doing?"
Muttering to herself, she retreated to her room.
Li Mo stood and glanced at the sky. Evening had fallen, cloudless and vast, with a bright moon hanging halfway up the snowy mountain. The wind played with the snowflakes, scattering stardust across the night.
Turning back, he saw Ying Bing sitting bathed in moonlight, her features half-lit, half-shadowed as she quietly flipped through a book, the rustling pages serene.
"The moon is beautiful tonight."
"It is."
Ying Bing glanced up and nodded.
Li Mo smiled.
During their dual cultivation sessions, the two had developed a tacit understanding—like using "the moon is beautiful" as code.
As everyone knew, when the moon shone brightly, the lunar essence was abundant—perfect for meditation. Thus, it became their signal for dual cultivation.
It had been a while since they last admired the moon... ahem, contemplated the lunar essence together.
Cultivation required relentless effort—how could they slack off like this?
"I’ll wait for you in your room."
"Why my room?"
"??"
Li Mo froze. Wasn’t this about dual cultivation?
Then he noticed the mischievous curve of the "Fairy of Frost’s" lips, her moonlit eyes glinting with amusement.
"Tonight, I want to study the Dream Illusion technique. Be good."
"Fine..."
Li Mo couldn’t resist that tone, but his disappointment at missing out on lunar meditation was palpable as he returned to his room.
Oh well. He still had many upper-form and several extreme-form techniques to practice.
Once he mastered the Seven Apertures of Divine Observation, he could inherit another Great Sage’s divine ability.
The lonely figure of Little Li stretched long under the moonlight... very long...
Watching him ascend the stairs, Ying Bing pressed her lips together, lingering a moment longer before rising.
The moment she opened her chamber door, she heard restless tossing from across the hall and sighed inwardly.
She closed the door softly.
By the moonlight, she retrieved the Dream Illusion manual again, reading:
"Day’s thoughts shape night’s dreams."
Indeed, the Dream Illusion technique wasn’t about freely controlling dreams—at least not at the Divine Observation Realm. Only someone like Qin Yuzhi could play mahjong in her dreams.
Instead, it relied on planting deep-seated suggestions in one’s mind, allowing dreams to shift slightly based on those thoughts.
If Li Mo slept beside her...
What would her dreams become?
"Ready."
Ying Bing reviewed the method once more, confirming she’d grasped it correctly.
Then, she began recalling fragments of her past life.
After her rebirth, most memories were clear—except for those shrouded in the Abyss.
Apart from the phrase "the heart is incomplete," she remembered nothing.
She needed to understand why she had failed.
And Ying Huang...
Last time, her counterpart had appeared in her dream. If she could control her dreams now, would things be different?
As these thoughts swirled, drowsiness crept over her.
Suddenly—
[Reminder: System ranking countdown—29 days remaining.]
[Penalty this cycle: Plant forty-nine hickeys.]
[To motivate the host, relevant visuals will now play automatically.]
"?"
The last image flashing before Ying Bing’s eyes as she drifted off was...
From the mind of that "paragon of virtue," Little Li!
......
That night, in the dreams of a certain former Demon Summoning Cult leader...
"Leader, you’re amazing!"
"Eighteen Arhats! Even with these tiles?"
"All hail the Leader, peerless in skill!"
Amid the flattery at the mahjong table, Qin Yuzhi’s gaze drifted to the window—where her memory of the Summoning Sect stood. In this vision, the sect oversaw the world’s harmony, managing the vast power of mortal faith.
A thriving, prosperous scene.
"Master, I’ll be as great as you one day."
Qin Yuzhi turned to see a child of five or six, eyes brimming with innocence and admiration.
One of her disciples.
"Siye, you’ll need to work hard."
She patted his head, smiling, but her heart ached.
Baili Siye...
Was now but a handful of dust.
This dream—once so vivid she could barely distinguish it from reality, a place she’d spent millennia content—now crumbled like sand in the wind.
This dream...
As reality encroached, reached its end.
Qin Yuzhi sighed softly. Her dream-self floated upward, adrift in a river of starlit bubbles—each a dream of someone from Qingyuan Sect.
This was her other secret art: Dreamwalking.
She could traverse countless dreams, even step into them.
Hm?
Suddenly, she paused before one particularly radiant bubble—its hues like condensed moonlight, tinged with faint pink.
"This is... Little Bing’s dream?"
Curiosity sparked in Qin Yuzhi’s eyes.
What kind of dream would someone so aloof and serene have?
......
villain is the number one simp for the book's leading female protagonist, Shen Wan'er. As expected, he later becomes a tool for the main character to show off and slap faces, ultimately meeting a tragic end with his family ruined and his life in shambles. Fortunately, he awakens the [Universal Pure Love System], which allows him to earn points by performing acts of pure love. To change his fate, Gu Yan makes a decisive choice to seek warmth and companionship with the book's biggest villain—Cold Qingqiu. ........... My name is Leng Qingqiu. To find the murderer who killed my parents years ago, I deliberately blinded myself so that everyone would lower their guard around me. Just as I was secretly accumulating power and capital according to my initial plan, a man walked into my world. "Lengleng, Qingqing, Qiuqiu, which nickname do you prefer?" I don't like any of them. You'd better leave quickly! "Why aren't you saying anything? How about I call you my baby wife?" Leng Qingqiu thinks to herself, this man is truly annoying! (Stubborn pure love warrior + single female lead + true pure love + 1v1)
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?"
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?!
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.”
