Fang Zhiyan had been feeling pretty down lately. He was getting along fine, had made quite a few friends on the street, but something strange had been happening for the past few days.
What was so strange? Well, whenever someone walked up to him, they’d look him over, raise a hand, and slap him across the face—hard enough to leave him disoriented. The slapper would then walk off without a word. He wanted to get revenge, but he was too much of a coward to try.
It didn’t stop there. He got slapped in the pool hall, slapped at the internet café, and even lying in his hotel room, someone would barge in just to slap him. These people never said anything, never hit him more than once—just a single slap, and that was it.
He used to have friends who could help him get back at them, but even his so-called “friends” would suddenly raise a hand and slap him just the same.
Fang Zhiyan was totally baffled.
How was he supposed to survive out here?
Why was everyone hitting him? Now whenever he walked down the street, he instinctively covered his face at the sight of anyone.
Because he got smacked around all day, he’d lost all his street cred in the circle—nobody wanted to hang out with him. But when it came to slapping him, they were all eager, like they were getting paid for it.
And they were.
After a few days of this inexplicable abuse, Fang Zhiyan couldn’t take it anymore. He thought it over and chose to go home.
But the moment he walked in, he ran straight into his hot-tempered mother. It took only a few words to understand the situation: even his honest, well-behaved older brother had run away from home, and now Fang Zhiyan had come back just in time to take his place as the family punching bag—verbally, at least.
Fang Zhiyan wasn’t having any of it. He secretly pocketed some cash and ran off again.
On his way, he passed the mahjong parlor and spotted his old man. But his dad looked grim, like he’d just lost a lot of money.
Fang Shaohua really wasn’t having a good run either. He’d been losing money every day recently, no matter where he played.
He blamed bad luck and even went to see a fortune master to change his fate. But after that, he lost even harder. With his mind consumed by gambling, he didn’t notice the eerie looks exchanged among the three players at his table.
Outside the apartment complex, Fang Xiaoxiao hesitated and shook her head in response to her boyfriend’s invitation. Her thuggish boyfriend got a little annoyed, but after a moment’s thought, he put on a sympathetic face. “It’s fine. Go home. As long as we love each other... you know? That’s what matters.”
Fang Xiaoxiao felt a pang of guilt. She had turned him down many times before, but this time it was because her older brother had run off, her younger brother hadn’t come home, and her mother kept complaining about how hard her life was. Fang Xiaoxiao couldn’t bear to add to her mother’s worries.
Neither of them noticed the man who had been watching them from across the street. He stared until they parted ways, then turned and walked off.
With the money he’d taken, Fang Zhiyan made up his mind: this time, he would change his fate! So he begged and scraped together a bunch of big shots from his circle, inviting them to a banquet.
At the dinner table, there was one unfamiliar face—a man sitting silently. The other guys seemed to know him, so Fang Zhiyan didn’t question it. He just wanted to find his place again.
“Gentlemen, if I’ve ever crossed any of you before, I’d like to take this chance to apologize!” Fang Zhiyan said, raising his glass and downing it in one gulp.
But something unexpected happened.
One of the big shots suddenly exploded. “Apologize? If you want to apologize, start by memorizing this text!”
Fang Zhiyan had imagined many scenarios, but never once did he think that a tough guy covered in tattoos would bring a tattered old Chinese textbook to dinner.
“And help me finish my little cousin’s exam paper! Or I’ll still beat you up!” another guy jumped up.
Fang Zhiyan was completely stunned.
Since when did being a gangster require doing homework?
He looked for help to the former big shot he used to follow. The man stood up and coughed. “Quiet down, everyone. Zhiyan is with me. Let me say something fair.”
Fang Zhiyan felt a glimmer of gratitude.
“We go out to fight. Given that...” The big shot couldn’t remember the rest, so he just pulled a crumpled paper from his pocket. “Given that a stick hits an arm at 6 meters per second, with a contact time of 0.1 seconds, what’s the force of the hit?”
Fang Zhiyan was speechless.
“Don’t just stand there! Let’s eat first! You hurry up and figure it out. If you don’t get it, they’ll beat you up, and I’m not stepping in,” the big shot said as he sat down. He glanced at the silent man, who gave a slight nod, and then the big shot finally picked up his chopsticks with relief.
He had originally thought Fang Zhiyan had offended someone. But after asking around, he caught wind of something bizarre: someone was paying them—ten bucks per slap on Fang Zhiyan, no questions asked.
Fang Zhiyan had become a monster that dropped coins whenever you hit him.
The big shot was still loyal at heart and wanted to find out who was behind it. But the moment he made a move, someone showed up at his house. The visitor didn’t say a word, just bought his family a bunch of stuff. The big shot had seen enough of the world to know—with two fierce-looking bodyguards behind the visitor—he was in over his head.
Since he couldn’t stop it, he might as well join the fun. After all, he had been paid and shouldn’t hold back. And looking on the bright side, this was good for his little brother’s future. That thought made him feel a lot better.
Once again, Fang Zhiyan learned how treacherous this street life could be. They no longer slapped him. Instead, whenever they saw him, they’d pull out a crumpled paper with a question and threaten to beat him up if he couldn’t answer it.
Meantime, because Fang Zhiyan had stolen money and run off again, He Huiqing finally snapped. She started searching everywhere for some kind of fortune-teller or feng shui master to help her. A cult’s peripheral members had almost gotten their hooks into her, but an old lady suddenly appeared, pulled her aside, and whispered something mysterious. He Huiqing left happily with the old woman.
When Fang Xiaoxiao returned home, she found her mother wasn’t there. Instead, her father was slumped on the couch with a vacant stare.
“Dad, where’s Mom?” Fang Xiaoxiao asked carefully.
Fang Shaohua didn’t react until she asked a second time. Then he sat up and scratched his head. “Haven’t seen her. I think she went out this afternoon.” He suddenly looked at his daughter—she seemed to have grown up.
“Hungry? I’ll make you something to eat!”
Fang Xiaoxiao was stunned. Was she seeing things? Her father was home this early, and even offering to cook?
Fang Shaohua had no choice. He had tried different places, but no matter where he gambled, he lost. For him, gambling was a game, but when the game only makes you lose, even a seasoned gambler loses interest. What a gambler wants is the thrill of winning and losing—mostly winning.
But now, he saw no hope of winning at all.
As he picked up an apron he hadn’t worn in ages, the door opened. Fang Zhiyan came in with half his face still swollen.
The three of them—father, son, daughter—stared at each other.
Fang Shaohua suddenly realized he hadn’t seen this son of his in a long time. Fang Zhiyan silently walked over to the couch and sat down. Fang Shaohua sighed. “You’re back? Wash your hands and wait for dinner... What happened to your face? Who hit you?”
s the Eldest Princess, renowned for her cold and aloof detachment, became the most docile of lambs, obeying his every command without question. But when the final move was played on the chessboard, as Gu Chenghan seized everything and ascended on the verge of apotheosis, that very Princess suddenly embraced him from behind, her tone carrying a dependence never heard before: "Wait... you haven't yet... commanded me to love you forever." Gu Chenghan froze abruptly. She... hadn't been hypnotized?! ... [The Eldest Princess's Diary] [When my soul was extracted, becoming the sole spectator outside my own shell] [At first, there was overwhelming fury, until I saw] [How he used my sword to effortlessly shatter my inescapable doom] [How he wielded my authority to eradicate fatal conspiracies I had never even detected] [Like a deity, he rescued me from the deep mire I was trapped in] [If not for those annoying vixens, he and I would be a match made in heaven] [I think I am ill, gravely ill] [My deity should belong to me alone] ... "Hypnosis? Oh, it succeeded, my dear Master." "Only this time, it's my turn to hypnotize you."
y came from. The chests contained supplies, currency, class-change scrolls, skills, talents… and even godhood! The laws of the world were completely rewritten. This became a world where everyone gambled with their fate! Some people, despite having nothing, opened a divine artifact and rose to the top, eventually ruling the world. Others went bankrupt, opened nothing but worthless junk, and leaped from skyscrapers in despair. Lin Ye arrived in this world from another reality, utterly bewildered. “What is going on? Why is everyone a gambling addict?!” “Opening chests? No way. I refuse to gamble. I’ll start with myself!” Until— On his first chest, he obtained a Mythic Talent: Void Incarnation! He could become completely intangible, pass through all things, and reduce everything to nothingness! … On his fiftieth chest, he obtained a Mythic Weapon: Blade of Karma! With a single slash, karma shattered, twisting the universe and overturning the myriad phenomena of creation! … On his ninety-ninth chest, he obtained a Mythic Divine Treasure: Primordial Purple Energy! It could split open the heavens and earth, create all things, and evolve countless worlds with a single thought! Lin Ye: “Now that I think about it… shouldn’t someone have told me that every chest is guaranteed to contain something Mythic?!”
nce】【Lighthearted Comedy】【Ultimate Gentleman's Novel】【Viewer Discretion Advised for Under 16】 The mightiest human hero, Sharen Morian, is resurrected after a thousand years by his wife—the Demon King. This is not your typical hero-vs-demon-king tale.
nd fell into a coma while saving his younger sister from an out-of-control car. He became a vegetable. No one knew that his consciousness had crossed into a world of cultivation. Over the course of sixty years, he began as the lowest kind of mine slave, struggling to survive amid mountains of corpses and seas of blood. By sheer chance, he eventually obtained the complete memories of a fallen Immortal King. Alchemy, medicine, formations, feng shui, physiognomy, artifact forging… Every great inheritance of the cultivation world was now his. But when he opened his eyes again, he discovered that ten full years had passed in the modern world. To pay for his treatment, his father had sold the family’s shop and house, leaving himself covered in lasting injuries and illness. His mother had cared for him day and night, and more than half of her hair had already turned white. His younger sister, who had been only fifteen back then, was now twenty-five. To help repay the family’s debts, she had been forced to lower her head and put on a smiling face in places of glittering lights and endless revelry. Only then did Chen Xuan understand that what he had lost was not merely ten years. He had lost the life his entire family was meant to have. The good news was that he had brought back the memories of an Immortal King’s entire lifetime. The bad news was that his soul had returned alone—his cultivation had not come with him. Spiritual energy was scarce, resources were depleted, and the modern world still had firearms, surveillance, capital, and laws. If he wanted to protect his family, break free from everyone’s control, and become truly invincible beneath the heavens, he would have to start all over again.
