"Help?"
Li Mo couldn't help but feel puzzled.
Since when did the ice block ever ask others for favors?
Ying Bing sat down at the stone table, habitually pouring tea, her cool and detached expression tinged with hesitation.
She cleared her throat.
"Come closer and listen."
Li Mo: "......"
This feels weird.
Asking for my help but sounding like a superior lecturing me.
Who knew how this ice block developed such an authoritative aura? Well... guess it's just the natural bearing of a chosen one.
"What’s so important that you’re being this formal?"
"You don’t usually care about much."
Li Mo sat opposite her, casually picking up the teacup for a sip.
He didn’t even notice—
It was the same cup Ying Bing had just drunk from.
"Are you taking a sect mission that’ll take you to Ziyang Prefecture City?"
Ying Bing’s gaze flickered slightly, as if she hadn’t seen his action.
"I haven’t accepted any yet."
"But I do plan to pick one in Ziyang Prefecture City."
Li Mo leaned back, hands behind his head, grinning.
"Since coming to Ziyang, I haven’t had the chance to explore properly. Consider this my excuse to slack off a little."
"This trip won’t be too busy. If you’ve got some errands, just say it outright."
The mission was secondary.
Sect contribution points meant little to him—just picking an easy task to fulfill the requirement would do.
"I want you to find someone for me."
"She’s probably... a beggar now."
As memories surfaced, the frost in Ying Bing’s expression seemed to thaw slightly.
Back then, she hadn’t been able to join Qingyuan Sect.
She’d ended up squatting in an abandoned house in Ziyang Prefecture City.
That was where she met Jiang Chulong, who also had nowhere to go.
In this life, it was Li Mo’s help that unlocked her meridians and revealed her talent.
But in her past life, without Jiang Chulong’s mutual support, she wouldn’t have succeeded either.
Now that she was in Qingyuan Sect, Jiang Chulong was left alone, still struggling to survive those harsh days...
"I want you to find her and arrange food, clothing, and shelter for her."
Huh?
Li Mo blinked at her words.
The ice block was worrying about someone’s basic needs?
Was this even the same person he knew?
Could it be... a relative?
Her hometown county had been ravaged by disaster beasts—her family should’ve all perished.
Maybe she’d gotten news that a lone survivor had ended up in Ziyang Prefecture City?
That would make sense.
Little Li naturally arrived at this conclusion.
So he replied earnestly,
"Don’t worry. Ziyang Prefecture City isn’t small, but finding someone isn’t too hard."
"If you remember what they look like, maybe sketch it out?"
As he spoke, he pulled out ink, brush, and paper.
Helping the ice block? He was all for it—anything related to her always brought great system rewards.
Besides, searching for family? Even without compensation, he’d gladly help.
"Drawing..."
Ying Bing took the brush calmly.
Half an hour later.
Little Li stared at the "masterpiece" on the table, expression grave.
"Ying Bing."
"Hm?"
"Tell me... do people actually look like this?"
Looking at the abstract, Picasso-esque portrait, Li Mo had to ask.
Seriously.
If you want me to find someone, could we at least aim for realism?
This avant-garde mess—if I hadn’t seen a few of Picasso’s works in my past life, I wouldn’t even recognize it as a person.
"The features are clear."
"Female. Large eyes. Small lips."
Ying Bing’s gaze drifted elsewhere.
Li Mo: "......Any more... obvious traits?"
Ying Bing seemed to search her memories before adding,
"Yes."
"She has a horrific chest wound, stutters when speaking, and... if cleaned up, she’s quite beautiful."
"Uh... how beautiful?"
"Comparable to me, in different ways."
"...Fair enough."
---
Time was of the essence.
Eventually, Little Li managed to extract a few concrete details.
No point delaying.
He decided to set out that very day.
Before leaving, he left several days’ worth of wine for his master, instructing Ying Bing to ration it.
With that settled, he headed for the Divine Arms Peak.
---
Afternoon.
A rather luxurious carriage rolled down the mountain.
Incense burned inside, tea swirling in its cup without spilling.
"Brother Li, why’d you take a mission to hunt some river pirate?" Murong Xiao studied the wanted poster on the table.
The sketch provided by the sect’s external affairs hall was also blurry.
This era lacked photography—without a live reference, portraits relied on verbal descriptions, which often varied even for the same person.
"Had to find someone anyway. Might as well make it count," Li Mo said offhandedly.
Cui Peng, a notorious bandit at the Internal Breath Condensation realm, had been severely wounded by an outer sect elder ten days prior.
A master of body refinement and saber techniques, with dozens of lives on his hands.
For other Qi-Blood realm disciples, even injured, Cui Peng was a tough opponent.
But to Li Mo?
Just a decent sparring partner.
He’d yet to have a real life-or-death fight...
"Since Brother Li took the mission, I’ll turn Ziyang Prefecture City upside down to find him," Murong Xiao vowed, rubbing his head with a grin.
Li Mo chuckled.
Had learning the Golden Bell Shield made Murong slightly... simpler?
"By the way, who else are you looking for besides Cui Peng?"
"A little beggar..."
In the carriage, Murong Xiao scribbled notes diligently, hanging onto every word.
He planned to enlist his grandfather’s help upon returning home.
The Murong family’s intelligence network was reliable—Li Mo trusted that much.
Before long, the carriage entered the prefecture city, heading straight for the inner district, where the architecture outshone the outer city’s.
"Murong Manor."
Li Mo glanced up at the gilded plaque—the Murong residence was among the grandest in the inner city.
"Young Master, Honored Li."
The steward, clearly forewarned, greeted them warmly.
"Brother Li, make yourself at home."
Murong Xiao relaxed visibly upon returning.
Passing through galleries and gardens, Li Mo observed with interest.
This place dwarfed his family’s estate back home—every detail exuded aristocratic refinement.
"Xiao’er."
In the main hall, two elders sat before a lavish spread, sipping tea. The one in crimson robes beckoned Murong Xiao over.
The other, a purple-robed elder with half-black, half-white hair, fixed his gaze on Li Mo—then his sword.
"So this is the famed Li, the True Disciple."
"Truly a hero among youths, as expected."
The crimson-robed elder rose with a hearty laugh.
"The Prefect and I were just enjoying tea when we heard of your arrival. He insisted on staying longer just to meet you—drank half my stock of Cloud Mist Eyebrow!"
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?"
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.”
u Chenyuan transmigrated into a female-oriented novel about a real and fake heiress, becoming the CEO elder brother of both. Unfortunately, the entire Lu family—including himself, the CEO—were mere cannon fodder in the story. Determined to save himself, Lu Chenyuan took action. The spoiled, attention-seeking fake heiress? Thrown into the harsh realities of the working class to learn humility. The love-struck real heiress? Pushed toward academic excellence, so lofty goals would blind her to trivial romances. As for the betrayed, vengeful arranged marriage wife… the plot hadn’t even begun yet. There was still time—if he couldn’t handle her, he could at least avoid her. "CEO Lu, are you avoiding me?" Mo Qingli fixed her gaze on Lu Chenyuan. For the first time, the shrewd and calculating Lu Chenyuan felt a flicker of unease.
e, Immortal Body, Transmigration, System, Progression Fantasy, Academy Setting, Third-Person Perspective. Alternate Title: Transmigrating into a High Martial World and Reading Live Comments. Bad news: I transmigrated. This is a terrifying high-martial world, and my original, pathetically weak body fell into a coma and never woke up. Good news: I got a Popularity Points system upon arrival. I can see live comments and even create an unkillable alternate identity. Starting out, the alternate identity has all stats at 1. The system tells me that to grow stronger, I must participate in the plot, gain popularity points to allocate stats and grow stronger, and ultimately awaken my original body. And so, carrying my original body on my back, I officially entered Huaqing Academy, where the story's protagonist resides. From that moment on, Chen Guan kicked the original plot to pieces. Live Comments: [Doesn't anyone find this mysterious coffin guy creepy? He can summon indescribable grey misty hands.] [Is this guy a hero or a villain? What kind of onion became a spirit?] [By the way, does anyone know who's in the coffin? Shouldn't the debt for saving his life be repaid by now?] [According to unofficial histories, the person in the coffin was Chen Guan's first love. Their love was once passionate and earth-shattering, but they were separated by life and death due to worldly circumstances. What a star-crossed pair.] ... Years later, the world knew of a demon god born from a coffin, shrouded in grey mist, impossible to gaze upon directly. His foremost divine emissary often wielded a scythe, reaping lives like the god of death. As war approached, facing former friends and a boundless sea of enemies, Chen Guan merely raised his scythe. "Would you like to dance as well?"
