"Regret?" Fang Zhiyi raised an eyebrow.
"The danger level is rising. Host, you need to leave immediately," Xiaoxiaohei announced mechanically, though its tone lacked the urgency of previous warnings—it had already learned that this host never listened anyway.
Huijue suddenly pressed his palms together, his entire head tilting slowly backward, staring at the massive golden Buddha from an eerie angle as he chanted something under his breath.
The Buddhist light radiating from his body grew stronger and stronger.
For a moment, Fang Zhiyi almost believed he was looking at a true enlightened monk.
"Do I look that stupid? You think I'd just let you power up your ultimate move?" Fang Zhiyi sneered, vanishing in a flash. His technique mirrored the one Xuan Jizi once used—his body launching forward like a massive bird lunging straight at Huijue.
The closer he got, the louder Huijue's chanting became. Those resonant syllables, like living things, wormed their way into Fang Zhiyi's ears. Blood vessels gradually surfaced in his eyes, and a wave of irritability surged into his mind.
Huijue hadn't expected anyone to break through his Sanskrit chant and get this close.
"Wait—"
"Wait for your mother!" Fang Zhiyi swung his sword. That strike was pure emotion, completely devoid of technique.
The blade sliced open Huijue's body from the neck downward. It was clear he wouldn't survive.
Fang Zhiyi barely had time to catch his breath when he saw Huijue's head suddenly snap back into position, staring straight at him with eyes full of venomous hatred.
At the same time, Fang Zhiyi heard a faint cracking sound.
He whipped around and realized that the arhats and vajra warriors lined up on both sides of the hall seemed to be coming to life. Their pupils darted wildly around, greedily staring at everyone in the room. Their bodies twisted and writhed as if trying to break free from the gold-plated shells encasing them. The golden paint on their surfaces was covered in cracks, constantly emitting the sound of breaking fragments.
As fragments of painted clay fell to the ground, they revealed the withered, pitch-black bodies beneath—their heads still bearing the faces of arhats and vajra warriors, giving them a grotesque and alien appearance.
"Xiaoxiaohei, what the hell are these?" Fang Zhiyi tightened his grip on his sword.
Xiaoxiaohei felt a bit helpless—did this Host think he was using it like an encyclopedia? Still, it answered earnestly: "They should be corpse puppets. Corpse puppets originate from the Old Desolation Canon. They are made by a cruel method of encasing a living person inside a clay mold..."
"Shut up! I just asked for the name!" Fang Zhiyi knew he couldn't wait any longer. With a light tap of his toes, his long sword emitted a humming sound as he charged at a corpse puppet that had already begun to move slowly.
Before coming today, he knew it would be intense, but he hadn't expected it to be this intense!
Fang Zhiyi's sword moves were almost entirely devoid of technique. That wasn't his fault—Xuan Jizi's sword style had never relied on technique in the first place. It was all about speed, precision, and ruthlessness. If Xuan Jizi hadn't been obsessed with becoming an immortal, he might have made a decent swordsman.
To Fang Zhiyi's delight, these corpse puppets exuded dense yin energy. Once he realized this, he no longer rushed. He simply plunged his sword into a corpse puppet's body while dodging the attacks of its long, slender arms.
As Fang Zhiyi activated the blade, the formation he had engraved on the sword handle began to spin wildly. The corpse puppet froze for a moment, then suddenly let out a screech so piercing it nearly shattered Fang Zhiyi's eardrums. But even that couldn't stop its yin energy from being frantically sucked into the black sword.
"Who says being a heretic cultivator is bad? Being a heretic cultivator is absolutely wonderful!" Fang Zhiyi was overjoyed. Wasn't this exactly what he needed?
He darted among the corpse puppets, his long sword working like a vacuum cleaner. The puppets drained by the black sword quickly withered and collapsed into piles of gray dust.
Just as he was getting excited, Xiaoxiaohei suddenly warned again: "Danger level rising. Host, please be cautious—"
Fang Zhiyi ducked and rolled to avoid an attack, then spun around abruptly.
Huijue's corpse had vanished!
"No way..." Fang Zhiyi stared at the giant golden Buddha as cracks began spreading across its surface. "Old monk! You're truly ruthless!"
Making a snap decision, Fang Zhiyi shook off the two corpse puppets clinging to him and lunged straight at the Buddha statue, now revealing its true form.
Inside the Buddha was a mass of writhing, repulsive flesh. As the outer shell fell away, its complete form was fully exposed—a pile of stacked flesh and blood twisted into a monstrous shape!
"A Blood Flesh Buddha. There are no clear records about it..." Xiaoxiaohei continued to fulfill its duty.
"Thanks so much," Fang Zhiyi muttered. The Blood Flesh Buddha trembled, and soon, countless human faces emerged across its surface, sending chills down anyone's spine.
At the very top, the face was unmistakably Huijue's!
Some of these faces showed joy, others agony, others despair. But when they all opened their mouths, they produced the same sound—an incomprehensible, murmuring chant.
As the entity descended, the corpse puppets that had been chasing Fang Zhiyi all stopped moving, as though cowed by its presence.
Huijue's face—at the top—suddenly snapped open its eyes, glaring at Fang Zhiyi with boundless resentment: "I was just one step away from becoming a Buddha! Just one step!"
As he roared, the other faces joined in screaming.
Fang Zhiyi stood frozen for a moment, then slowly raised his sword.
Huijue kept ranting: "It promised me that once it was fed, I could become a Buddha. If not for you, if not for you..."
"Looks like you've really been stuffing it full," Fang Zhiyi said, glancing at Huijue. "What's wrong with the people in this world? Either they're obsessed with becoming immortals or Buddhas. Do you think turning into something like this is better?"
Without another word, he thrust his sword into the Blood Flesh Buddha's body. There was no resistance—it was like stabbing into cotton.
"Hahaha, you little worm, you can't kill it! It is a true Buddha! Not something an ant like you can—"
Fang Zhiyi looked up at him impatiently: "Have you ever seen a real Buddha that survives by devouring its own believers and stealing luck? You've been played for a fool, and you're still happy about it."
"How dare you!" Huijue bellowed in fury. Suddenly, a crack split open on the Blood Flesh Buddha's chest, and a twisted enormous hand slammed straight down at Fang Zhiyi.
Several dark figures flew in from outside the hall, blocking the blow above Fang Zhiyi's head.
Xuan Jizi, the village guardian, and the trickster spirit all joined forces, but they only managed to slow the descending hand for a brief moment.
"Useless! All useless! Hahaha!" Huijue laughed maniacally.
But Fang Zhiyi just kept repeating the same motion—stabbing the sword in, pulling it out, stabbing it in again, pulling it out once more—barely paying attention to him.
Huijue grew furious: "Ant! Die like a good pest!"
"So it really is immune to physical damage," Fang Zhiyi muttered, pulling his sword out again and scratching his head. Then he slowly raised it. "Old bald donkey... have you ever seen the Heavenly Dao?"
ions, keeping it grounded and realistic】 After quitting his job, office worker Su Yang accidentally binds with the "Enjoy Life System." As the name suggests, simply by indulging in life's pleasures, he can earn random rewards from the system—no need to spend money on beautiful women or grovel before anyone. Just enjoy, and the money follows, making it all about effortless fun. The system comes with a scanning feature, allowing him to establish a favorability bond with women rated 85 points or above. Every 20-point increase in favorability unlocks additional rewards. After suffering through over twenty years of hardship, Su Yang trembles with excitement, his dull eyes suddenly gleaming with newfound hope. "Enjoy life? How hard could that be?"
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?"
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.
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."
