"Tsk... You're out of money for drinks again?"
"Tch, tch, eyeing the imperial mausoleum again, using Little Li as an excuse to fool us."
"Little Li’s been thriving in Tianren City, even singing tunes while ascending the throne. Things are going splendidly for him—what could possibly be wrong?"
"Hmph, she’s definitely bluffing. Let’s just eat hot pot..."
Well acquainted with Shang Wu’s antics, the elders quickly regained their composure after the initial shock.
They resumed eating hot pot as if nothing had happened.
Crash—
Shang Wu kicked the table over.
"My beef!" Qian Bufan wailed in despair, standing up and brandishing his chopsticks at her.
"This princess... is not joking with you."
Hearing Shang Wu refer to herself as "princess," Qian Bufan immediately sat back down.
Shang Wu had never been this serious before.
Though usually unruly, even when punished by the sect master, she never pulled rank or acted like royalty...
The elders exchanged glances, recalling an afternoon many years ago.
Back then, Jade Cluster Peak wasn’t one of the nine peaks but a sacred cultivation ground, its statues serving as excellent divine diagrams for meditation.
The Grand Elder hadn’t yet taken charge of the ancestral hall but guarded the stone statues on Jade Cluster Peak.
That day, he brought back a coffin made of jade-like Soul-Nourishing Yinwood—and inside it was Shang Wu.
It took them a long time to convince her that Great Shang no longer existed, that the world now belonged to Great Yu.
Over time, Shang Wu grew less and less like a princess, as if she had long forgotten her identity.
This was the first time she had spoken in the tone of a Great Shang princess.
When Shang Wu became serious, it meant the situation was dire.
"Is what you said true?"
Shangguan Wencang’s expression darkened. "What exactly happened?"
Qingyuan Sect was far from the imperial capital.
The latest news they’d received was about Little Li being crowned.
Taking a deep breath, Shang Wu replied:
"He took up the Tianren Divine Sword, but the sword had a trap left by the Demon Summoning Cult’s ancestral deity. The Great Yu imperial clan must have interfered too. If not for our precious disciple holding up the heavens, and Little Bing'er refining the Tianren City realm, that world would have been destroyed."
The elders were baffled.
The Tianren Trials had been held countless times—how could the world within the Rivers and Mountains Painting be so easily destroyed?
And why would the Great Yu imperial clan interfere?
"What do you mean by 'Little Li holding up the heavens'?" Xue Jing had a bad feeling.
"Literally."
"??"
"Little Li does have a secret technique to enlarge his body..." Xue Jing muttered.
He glanced at Shang Qinqing for confirmation, but the Phoenix Clan leader nodded solemnly, confirming Shang Wu’s words weren’t exaggerated.
A heavy silence fell.
Not long ago, Li Mo had just joined Qingyuan Sect, practicing basic Six Harmonies Fist as a novice. Back then, the elders debated his future path.
Now, in what felt like no time at all, he was shouldering the sun and moon, writing his own legend.
And paying the price for it.
As his mentors, they could do nothing to help...
He had already forged his own path.
"His inner world is capable of recreating his own cosmos, but the conditions for its formation are stringent. The required power of the masses can’t be gathered and refined slowly anymore," Shang Qinqing said gravely.
"Who knows what variables the opening of the imperial mausoleum will bring."
Shangguan Wencang sighed, turning to Shang Wu.
"But in the end, you are the one most qualified to make this decision."
"What lies beneath the mausoleum will see daylight sooner or later."
Shang Wu gazed toward Jade Cluster Peak, her eyes heavy with ancient sorrow.
"If others are already coveting it, we might as well open it ourselves."
Seeing the elders nod in agreement, Shang Qinqing stepped out of the hall and took to the skies once more.
...
If not for the Somersault Cloud, Shang Qinqing might be the fastest traveler in the world.
Cutting through the void, she landed in the Eternal Spring Courtyard by evening.
"You’re back?" Qin Yuzhi was waiting outside the room—such was the tacit understanding of devoted shippers.
"Mm. I’m taking Little Bing'er and Little Li back to Qingyuan Sect."
Shang Qinqing nodded and pushed open the door.
Inside, she saw a figure leaning over Li Mo like a haughty cat sneaking a bite.
Wait—no, not sneaking. She was feeding him.
A charcoal stove heated water, and a bowl of medicinal soup sat on the bedside table, its strange fragrance suggesting it was a dissolved pill...
And someone had already drunk from it.
Since Li Mo was bedridden, he clearly hadn’t taken it himself.
Shang Qinqing: "!"
Qin Yuzhi: "!"
Both held their breaths.
After all their efforts, here was the unexpected payoff!
The scene was serene and beautiful—if not for the urgency, they’d have wished it could last forever.
But Ying Bing heard the door open. She straightened up, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear, her expression perfectly composed—except for her glowing red earlobes.
"He’s injured, so..." she murmured.
"Of course, this is just normal care to help him recover," Shang Qinqing said, though she couldn’t help adding, "But his teeth were clenched tight earlier?"
"No time to waste. Let’s go."
"One more question—what if he needs to use the bathroom...?"
Ying Bing’s eyes flickered, pretending not to hear as she stabilized Li Mo’s injuries with her inner world before gently lifting him onto her back.
...
Imperial Study.
"Your Majesty, the Phoenix Clan leader has left the capital with Li Mo and Ying Bing," reported a silver-masked Sky Patrol guard, kneeling with a raspy voice.
"So they plan to use the imperial fortune in Shang’s mausoleum," Emperor Jingtai mused, opening his eyes.
"Saves me the headache of whether to ennoble him. Great Shang’s fortune is less troublesome than Great Yu’s."
He’d already drafted an edict granting Li Mo a noble title—a last resort, as titles could share imperial fortune.
"Should we send more men to monitor Li Mo?" the guard asked quietly.
"No need."
Emperor Jingtai shook his head.
Others might lose themselves bearing imperial fortune, but he believed that boy wouldn’t.
"Summon the Chief Eunuch."
"Yes."
Soon, a violet-robed eunuch entered and bowed.
Emperor Jingtai dictated:
"By decree: Jiang Yu, driven by reckless ambition, has disgraced the imperial dignity. He is sentenced to a year of reflection in the Mantis Prison."
"Chu Ge, for negligent mentorship and impetuous conduct, shall copy Buddhist scriptures a hundred times at Pagoda Temple."
"The Great Yu imperial clan, failing in their duty to guard the Rivers and Mountains Painting and allowing demonic forces to infiltrate, shall forfeit five hundred acres of land and ten estates."
"Li Mo, a hero of his generation, is a match made in heaven with the Frost Fairy. In recognition, We shall personally oversee their wedding."
...
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.”
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?"
end. Thus one must continue to cultivate, and become a saint or great emperor, in order to prolong one's life. Chen Xia, however, completely reversed this. Since his transmigration, he has gained immortality, and also a system that awards him with attribute points for every year he lives. Thus between the myriad worlds, the legend of an unparalleled senior appeared. "A gentleman takes revenge; it is never too late even after ten thousand years." "When you were at your peak I yielded, now in your old age I shall trample on you." - Chen Xia
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?!
