Xiaoxiaohei stared blankly at this host who seemed like a madman, stumbling around aimlessly, until he stopped again at a mass grave, even revealing a somewhat twisted smile.
"Draw on power and gather the five elements, huh? That reminds me..." Fang Zhiyi muttered to himself, as he began crouching down to dig open the shallowly buried mounds.
Most of the dead buried in the mass grave didn’t have coffins, after all, poor people couldn’t afford to be laid to rest in a favorable feng shui spot like the wealthy gentry. The eastern hill belonged to Squire Wang, the western wasteland to Landlord Hu—the final destination for the poor was usually the mass grave.
Fang Zhiyi concentrated intensely, squatting beside the rotting corpse with a small jar in hand, his gaze dark and grim. He dug up several graves before finding one that met his requirements, and then he waited patiently.
As he collected the corpse oil, Fang Zhiyi began tearing apart the stolen clothes, clumsily piecing them together into a single piece of fabric. Luckily, commoners’ clothes were simple in design, so it didn’t take too much effort.
"Watch this... the cloth is rough, sure, but the quality’s passable..."
In the end, Fang Zhiyi stuffed the crooked piece of fabric into a pickled vegetable jar, peeked inside to check, then scooped up dirt to seal the jar’s mouth. Every movement was careful, as if he were storing some treasure.
An eerie wind blew, carrying faint wails and cries. Fang Zhiyi waved his hand impatiently: "All of you, scram!" He knew it was the sound of lingering spirits that hadn’t yet dissipated—they couldn’t threaten him beyond that.
For the rest of the day, Fang Zhiyi just sat there silently, staring at the jar. If not for the detectable heartbeat, Xiaoxiaohei would have thought he was dead.
When night fell again, Fang Zhiyi picked up the jar, gently pried open the sealed clay, and reached inside to pull out the fabric. A look of joy spread across his face—a look that, to Xiaoxiaohei, seemed somewhat deranged.
Fang Zhiyi spread the oil-soaked cloth flat on the ground, unabashedly picking up a brush to write on it with intense focus, sweat beading on his forehead. Two hours later, he finished the last stroke, glanced around, picked a random broken wooden stick, lifted the remaining ink, and without hesitation bit his tongue to spit blood into the ink bowl. He stirred it with his finger, then carefully applied it to the stick.
Finally, he bound the eerie-looking cloth to the stick. Once done, Fang Zhiyi swung it around, frowned in thought, and ran back to the mass grave. He returned after a long while, clutching a few hard-to-find coffin nails. Picking up a piece of bluestone, he hammered the nails one by one into the back of the stick, driving the tips through the cloth, then bent them over to secure the wobbling fabric firmly.
"Host, better head into the city while it's still dark. The dangers of this world are beyond you," Xiaoxiaohei finally spoke as Fang Zhiyi finished his work.
Fang Zhiyi glanced at it and suddenly shook the rag in his hand.
"Souls and shades, all come forth, every spirit bows to my command!"
As he shook it, eerie winds began to stir, and the faint ghostly cries grew clearer.
Xiaoxiaohei watched the bizarre scene in confusion, unsure if its host had gone mad, but then thought—as long as he stayed alive, the mission was complete.
"HAHAHAHAHA!!!" Fang Zhiyi burst out laughing. "Dangerous? They don’t even know what danger is!"
Xiaoxiaohei stared wide-eyed at this clearly insane host.
"Immortal cultivation, huh! Alchemy, huh!"
Xiaoxiaohei’s eyes gradually lit up: "Detecting abnormal physical condition in host! Activating soul protection mechanism..." But before its voice broadcast finished, Fang Zhiyi grabbed it with one hand.
"I’m fine. Shut up."
Xiaoxiaohei looked suspiciously at this figure now reeking of black fumes.
...
"Boss... Old Five is raving again." A bandit with a scarred half-face held a bone club, his tone impatient. "How about I put him out of his misery?"
The Chief glanced at Old Five, who was staring in terror and shouting, but said nothing.
Not to mention what skills that old Daoist had, Old Five’s right hand wound was already festering. He probably wouldn’t last much longer.
Seeing the boss indifferent, the scar-faced bandit pulled out a short knife.
"Sorry, Fifth Brother," he thought gleefully. One less person to split the loot—who would complain about extra cash? Tough luck, Old Five.
Just as the knife was about to strike, something blurred before his eyes.
"What was that?"
The next moment, black mist spread, extinguishing their campfire almost instantly.
The Chief froze for a moment, then frowned and shouted, "Everyone, stay calm!"
But a scream came from Old Five’s direction. He whirled around—one of his men who had been standing there was gone.
"Who’s there?"
No sooner had he spoken than another scream came from a lackey on his right. He spun quickly, catching a glimpse in the faint moonlight: someone was being dragged into the woods.
"Boss, Boss... we’ve run into something evil," the last remaining minion stammered in terror. Then suddenly, a blob of black mist coalesced before him, taking a human shape covered in struggling, howling faces!
"Ah!!!"
The Chief looked over—his last man was gone.
Now it was just him and Old Five, who was still moaning nearby.
"Who the hell are you! I’m not afraid of you! I’ve got blood on my hands—come at me if you dare!" the Chief shouted, though his trembling legs betrayed his fear.
"I know you’ve got blood on your hands. That’s the only reason I’d kill you."
"Who!"
The black mist slowly dissipated, revealing a figure. The Chief squinted to make out the newcomer. This man looked more like a refugee than his own men, but when he saw the face, his eyes flew wide.
"It’s you! I recognize you!"
Fang Zhiyi grinned. "Good. Glad you recognize me. I’d hate for you not to."
"Don’t think I’m scared just because you picked up some tricks from that old Daoist!" the Chief brandished his knife. "I’m telling you, even as a ghost, I won’t let you off!"
"Of course," Fang Zhiyi said. "Even as a ghost, I won’t let you off either."
ive and Ruthless] Before his transmigration, Ye Xuan was playing a game called "Severing Emotions to Attain the Dao." The game's core wasn't about leveling up by fighting monsters, but about conquering various "bad women" with wicked personalities and cold, fickle natures. There was only one method to conquer them: stay unwaveringly by their side, then die at a critical moment, driving them to madness after losing the protagonist. The higher their level of regret, the higher the player's score. To dominate the server, Ye Xuan conquered all the bad women. In the early stages, he showered them with boundless tenderness, only to choose to sacrifice himself for them later, making them weep bitterly and drown in regret. Among them were: Xia Lengyue, the unfaithful immortal wife who chased after powerful men and discarded her husband like trash. Ye Qingcheng, the Demonic Venerable of the Joyous Union Sect, who appeared pure and innocent but was, in reality, promiscuous. Wu Lingxiao, the Empress of the Great Xia Dynasty, who lusted after men and loved maintaining a harem. Bai Qiangu of the Endless Demonic Sect: a bloodthirsty mass murderer. However, when the protagonist transmigrated into the game world, he made a horrifying discovery. Eight hundred years had already passed. The bad women he had conquered had now each become deities and revered ancestors. Faced with the endless stream of toxic women coming for him, Ye Xuan could only rely on his god-tier acting skills to carve a path of survival through this world of treacherous women.
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.
lities. One day, Qi Yuan was buying groceries when he unfortunately came face-to-face with a monster. Just when he thought he was going to die on the spot, he suddenly heard the monster's thoughts... "This aura, he's definitely not an ordinary master!" "So terrifying, so terrifying." "A fight with my back against the wall, I can't take it anymore." Qi Yuan: Ah, no one told me that my awakened ability isn't telepathy, but rather the stronger my enemies imagine me to be, the stronger I truly become. PS: Zhou Hai in the first chapter is not the protagonist.
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."
