Under the starry sky, all things fell into silence.
The night breeze carried with it the faint scent of flowers from an unknown place, as well as the distant, indistinct roars of demons. Gradually, these sounds dissipated into the wind.
Only the sound of paper folding remained.
In the empty courtyard, it was exceptionally clear.
Like a lighthouse in the dark sea, it was so noticeable that it was impossible to miss.
"Creak—"
Xu Xi pushed open the door and walked into the dimly lit courtyard. He easily found the source of the sound—a familiar figure in red and white robes.
At that moment.
She was clumsily struggling to fold an old piece of paper with her uncooperative fingers.
Xu Xi recognized the paper.
It was from the original book of "Nurturing Essence Technique."
After the "Fool's Technique" was developed, the Nurturing Essence Technique had become useless, and no matter how much it was tampered with, Xu Xi didn't care.
He was only curious about what the girl was doing.
"Ahem—"
Xu Xi stood behind the girl.
In the small space illuminated by the faint moonlight.
He cleared his throat softly, trying to catch her attention.
"Ugh, why won't it work...?" the girl muttered to herself, completely oblivious to Xu Xi's presence. She frowned, lying on the stone table as she folded the paper.
So, Xu Xi raised his voice.
"Ahem!"
"!!!"
This time, 17-year-old Wu Yingxue finally heard him.
Startled, she quickly turned around and instinctively grabbed the dragon-patterned spear beside her.
But upon seeing Xu Xi.
Her expression froze.
"Sir...? Why are you...?"
Wu Yingxue's voice trailed off. She had been about to ask why Xu Xi was there but suddenly realized that she had disturbed his rest.
A look of apology appeared on her face.
"I'm sorry, sir..."
"It's fine."
Xu Xi waved his hand, cutting off her apology.
The tranquility of the night was like a deep pool of stagnant water, swallowing all light and making everything appear dim and indistinct.
Yet even so.
Xu Xi could still see.
The crumpled, crooked piece of paper clutched tightly in the girl's hand.
"Yingxue, what are you doing?"
Faced with Xu Xi's question, Wu Yingxue looked slightly embarrassed.
Her small, delicate face displayed a mix of emotions—hesitation, uncertainty.
Finally, she spoke in an apologetic tone: "I'm folding a flower."
"Folding a flower? You woke up just to do this?"
"Ah, no, actually... I didn't sleep."
Xu Xi was an innate martial artist, while Wu Yingxue was at the fifth level of body tempering, the Blood Exchange stage.
Logically, Xu Xi, with his stronger physique, should have woken up earlier, but he had seen the girl first.
The answer was simple.
After their farewell during the day.
Wu Yingxue hadn't slept at all.
"I wanted to sleep, but once I lay down, I just couldn't fall asleep," she explained, like a child caught playing when they should have been resting.
In the thick darkness, the girl smiled awkwardly.
Tonight's moonlight was dim, not very bright, casting a faint, hazy glow on the girl's fumbling fingers.
"It's fine if you couldn't sleep."
Xu Xi spoke softly, reassuring her.
Then.
His gaze focused on the "flower."
No, it would be more accurate to call it a "crumpled piece of paper."
Despite the girl's insistence that she was trying to fold a flower, the product of her fingers looked more like a casually crumpled ball of paper.
"?"
Faced with Xu Xi's puzzled look.
Wu Yingxue widened her eyes and said, "It's too dark, I can't see properly! I didn't want to disturb your sleep, so I didn't light a lamp!"
As if to prove her point.
The girl quickly fetched an oil lamp from the room. The oil inside came from demons, making it long-lasting.
"Fizz—"
The flame rose, carving out a small space of light in the night.
Though not very bright.
Though quite faint.
It was enough to see the lines and tiny marks on one's palms.
"Watch me," Wu Yingxue took a deep breath, spread the paper flat on the stone table, and slowly pinched the edges with her fingers.
Step by step, carefully.
She shaped the paper into—
A crumpled ball.
Starlight scattered like silver fragments, mingling with the faint moonlight, casting a silent stillness over the scene, along with a rising sense of awkwardness.
"I, actually..."
The girl hesitated, unsure of what to say.
It seemed she wanted to explain further.
"Let me do it," Xu Xi said helplessly, picking up the mangled paper ball and smoothing it out again.
His fingers moved with precision, folding and creasing the paper.
He worked quickly, so quickly that the girl's eyes widened in amazement.
As if conjured from thin air.
The crumpled ball of paper suddenly transformed into a paper flower—a strange, white-brown flower that would never wither.
"So impressive..."
"Wait, sir, you know how to do this?"
The girl first gasped in admiration, then looked at Xu Xi with a bewildered expression.
She couldn't reconcile the image of Xu Xi before her—a masterful martial artist who slaughtered demons like dogs—with the man who could fold paper flowers.
"I learned it when I was young," Xu Xi explained with a light chuckle, seeing the disbelief on her face.
"So impressive, so impressive..."
Wu Yingxue murmured.
She held the not-so-precious paper flower, gazing at it under the moonlight, examining the folds of the petals over and over.
Her eyes were nostalgic.
She couldn't put it down.
Seeing her like this, Xu Xi couldn't help but ask, "Yingxue, why did you suddenly decide to fold paper flowers in the middle of the night?"
"Well..."
The girl hesitated for a moment before finally revealing the reason.
She couldn't sleep because she had been thinking about her deceased parents. When she was young, the Princess Consort of Dingyuan had taught her how to fold paper flowers.
"Back then, I wasn't interested in folding flowers..."
"I only wanted to save the country and its people, to become a great hero..."
Wu Yingxue's expression was tinged with melancholy.
Her fingertips gently twirled the paper flower, making it spin in her hand.
Xu Xi rarely saw such an expression on the girl's face. In the past, Wu Yingxue had always appeared strong.
But.
Even the strongest people have moments of vulnerability.
"Sir, do you think..."
"Where do the dead go in this world?"
Wu Yingxue looked down at the paper flower and asked this question.
Xu Xi looked at her, then at the night sky above her head. His eyes seemed deep and profound in the darkness as he answered in a gentle voice:
"In my hometown, there's a belief that when people die, they become stars in the sky, watching over their loved ones on earth. Whenever the stars shine brightly, it means they are here."
"Is that so... That's a beautiful thought."
The girl smiled.
She knew it wasn't true, but she liked it.
"Sir, teach me how to fold paper flowers. I want to learn."

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.”

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

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?"

ver to a world of cultivation and returned invincible. Modern medicine is child's play compared to elixirs; technological might crumbles before true cultivation. My name is Qin Ning, Earth's sole cultivator!