Princess Yuyang raised her chin, sizing up Li Mo with a hunter's delight in her eyes, as if he were some coveted treasure everyone was fighting over.
"?"
A tiny question mark popped up above Li Mo's head.
Who are you?
Don’t blame young Li for being face-blind—it’s just that with an ice block constantly by his side, it’s hard to remember random people, especially women. There’s no need, after all. He doesn’t bother memorizing unimportant things or faces.
Unless it’s something like a golden destiny—then he might have some impression.
Living in the Step Cloud Tower, you could toss a brick and hit at least a few people with purple destinies.
Murong Xiao immediately grew wary, his scrutinizing gaze seeming to discern something.
Then, a hint of admiration flickered across his face.
"Uh, have we met somewhere before?"
Li Mo was puzzled.
Princess Yuyang frowned. "The Sword Forge."
Was this hammer-wielding tyrant playing some kind of hard-to-get game with her?
She didn’t see anything wrong with her behavior.
Raised in the palace, every man she’d ever known had multiple wives and concubines. Her imperial father’s harem spanned three palaces and six courtyards. Among the court officials, any man with only one wife would be mocked.
"Oh, right..."
Li Mo seemed to recall something, but something still felt off.
"Heh, I knew it..." Princess Yuyang lifted her chin like a proud swan, convinced this was all part of his act.
Only someone with ulterior motives would go to such lengths.
Her mind already wandered to the future—petitioning her father for an imperial decree to take Li Mo as her consort.
And consorts weren’t allowed to take concubines.
What kind of expression would that woman make then?
"You were forging next to me earlier, weren’t you? And you weren’t very good at it."
"?"
Princess Yuyang’s expression froze. Her gaze at Li Mo turned impatient. If he weren’t so dazzling, she would’ve scoffed and walked away by now.
"Enough, Young Hero Li. I’m not some sheltered maiden. If you keep this up, I’ll really start to find you annoying."
"Uh, then I must’ve mistaken you for someone else. Maybe we’ve met, but I really don’t know you."
Li Mo finally realized what was off.
What ordinary woman refers to herself as "this princess"? Now he remembered where he’d seen her before.
"If we’ve met, how dare you claim you don’t know this princess?"
Princess Yuyang’s eyes widened.
More than him not recognizing her, her pride couldn’t bear the thought of him forgetting her after meeting.
"It’s normal to meet someone and not remember them."
Li Mo offered an awkward yet polite smile.
"I’ve seen Martial Emperor the Great Ancestor before, and he certainly doesn’t know who I am."
"Then we can get acquainted now. I quite like the weapons you forge."
Princess Yuyang took a deep breath, suppressing her temper.
Murong Xiao lowered his voice. "Brother Li, I could tell at a glance this woman is no good. She’s trying to exploit your weakness."
"Thanks, but it probably doesn’t like you. It’s hot down here—why don’t you go cool off up there?"
Li Mo rolled his eyes, turning his attention to the stage.
"Lady benefactor, perhaps you should leave first."
"Shut it, baldy!"
"...Sigh. Amitabha."
Murong Xiao shook his head, murmuring a Buddhist chant. His compassionate heart had compelled him to warn Li Mo.
Princess, do you even realize what you’re doing?
He quietly took two steps back, not wanting to get splattered when the blood started flying.
Princess Yuyang clenched her fists, glaring at Li Mo. She’d never been ignored like this before. Just as she was about to speak again—
Zheng—
A sudden sword cry pierced the air, its chilling aura extinguishing the last traces of warmth in the plaza.
"The Frost Fairy is testing her sword!" someone shouted.
The vast plaza fell silent in an instant. The aloof young woman standing at its center seemed as though she’d been there for an eternity—or perhaps had just arrived.
Her sword hung inverted, her dark hair tied high. Though it was dusk, her presence summoned the moon prematurely.
With a flick of her blade, past sword forms and the essence of a hundred beasts coalesced under the lunar glow.
Ying Bing’s gaze, unsettlingly beautiful, flickered like distant stars as she looked down at the young man below the stage.
"I like the sword."
Somehow, Li Mo understood exactly what the ice block meant.
But soon, his attention was stolen by the mesmerizing, otherworldly dance of her blade.
A line of poetry surfaced in his mind:
"In ancient times, a beauty named Gongsun,
Whose swordplay dazzled all who looked upon.
The crowd stood awestruck, hearts undone,
Heaven and earth moved by her alone."
Princess Yuyang’s words died in her throat. When her eyes landed on the figure on stage, an invisible force choked her voice, rendering speech meaningless.
The Frost Fairy could’ve just gone through the motions.
But she didn’t.
She wanted everyone to see the weapon freshly forged for her—to witness the heart and soul poured into it.
The Heavenly Mountain Sword Manor housed both smiths and swordsmen, though the latter were far more renowned.
After all, this place had supplanted the Cloud-Crossing Sword City as the holy land of sword arts.
Yet now, not a single person dared make a sound.
"Peerless, unfathomable martial arts"—the phrase usually sounded like empty praise.
But what if it wasn’t an exaggeration?
Aside from the Three Heroes of Cloud-Crossing and those familiar with Li Mo and Ying Bing—Xiao Qin, Huang Donglai, and the rest—every young genius here for the Hidden Dragon Ranking felt their worldview crumbling.
How could they share a ranking with her?
This was supposed to be the Hidden Dragon Ranking?
Even their masters were sweating bullets!
"If she breaks through one more aperture, I’m not sure I could face her even with our founder’s sword," Xie Xuan muttered, wiping his brow.
Whoosh—
The lunar aura suddenly intensified, moonlight flooding the plaza.
Xie Xuan: "??"
Did his mouth just become prophetic?
"The ice block’s breaking through..."
Li Mo grinned at her, his bright eyes reflecting her radiant figure.
At least now he wouldn’t have to worry about her—top three was guaranteed.
"Li Mo."
Ying Bing’s sword dance ended. Clutching the blade, she descended gracefully.
Just as the first sliver of moonlight crested the horizon.
The girl stared quietly at him, her aura steadily rising.
"I’ve decided on a name. ‘Taibai’—how does that sound?"
"It is white."
Li Mo nodded seriously, eyeing the Frost Fairy’s luminous, jade-like skin.
"Aren’t you going to ask why?" Ying Bing shot him a faintly exasperated look.
Li Mo blinked. "Why?"
"Taibai is the star closest to the moon."
She sheathed her sword, stepping to Li Mo’s side. Lowering her gaze, she added:
"You still don’t have a weapon."
"Who knew none of the smiths here could forge hammers?" Li Mo shrugged.
"I have a solution."
"Yeah! Sister Bing and I went to the Sword Tomb and asked the white-bearded elder for ideas!" Jiang Chulong adjusted her sunglasses with a cool smirk.
Li Mo froze.
The ice block had known all along he might end up without a weapon for the competition?
Was this also part of the Frost Fairy’s calculations?
"Since I’ve broken through as planned... this method will work."
A trace of warmth seeped through Ying Bing’s frost-carved features.
"What method?"
"You’ll see soon."
They conversed as if no one else existed.
Meanwhile, the entire Sword Forge plaza remained in stunned silence, still struggling to process what they’d witnessed.
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?"
't think I'm that capable, I'm just trying my best to stay alive. I've been kind all my life, never did anything bad, yet worldly suffering spared me not one bit. The human world is a nice place, but I won't come back in my next life. A kind young man, who wanted to just get by singing, but through repeated deceits and betrayals, has gone down an irredeemable path.
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.”
