Fang Zhiyi squeezed out what he thought was a friendly smile. "Old... elder, I heard there were immortals here, so I came specially to seek the way of the immortals..."
The old man let out an "Oh," his face full of understanding. "Seeking immortality is no easy task... Life up on the mountain is very hard, young friend. You should turn back..."
Fang Zhiyi frowned. This old man was almost certainly a mountain spirit, some lackey working for the so-called immortal. Why was he putting on airs?
The mountain spirit noticed Fang Zhiyi staring at his face. "Young friend? Why are you staring at me?"
Fang Zhiyi smiled and waved him over. "Come closer, and I'll tell you."
The mountain spirit leaned in, puzzled.
"Old geezer, are your bones itching for a beating?"
But as soon as he said this, the mountain spirit reacted in a way Fang Zhiyi never expected. He displayed an agility unbefitting an old man, leaping back several paces and even flipping into a somersault, staring at Fang Zhiyi with utter vigilance.
"Not another insolent fool?"
Fang Zhiyi was confused.
But the mountain spirit kept scrutinizing him from head to toe. Fang Zhiyi looked bewildered, and then the mountain spirit suddenly transformed into a puff of white smoke and vanished.
"Huh?" Fang Zhiyi was at a loss.
But just after the mountain spirit disappeared, where he had been standing, a winding staircase leading upward was revealed.
Fang Zhiyi couldn't figure out what had just happened. Was he really that intimidating? No—he had carefully concealed his aura before coming here... But after thinking it over for a while and coming up with nothing, Fang Zhiyi simply shook his head, stepped forward, and walked onto the staircase that was barely wide enough for one person.
"Just wait! Your turn's coming too!" Not long after Fang Zhiyi climbed the stairs, the path began to fade away, and the mountain spirit reappeared, rubbing his lower back with a furious expression. "Two run-ins in one day with reckless young hooligans—what rotten luck!"
Everything proceeded just as in the original plot. Fang Zhiyi knocked on the door. An acolyte opened it, sized him up for a moment, then let him inside.
Before him, over a dozen mortals had already arrived. When they saw Fang Zhiyi being led in, they didn't react much—some muttered to themselves, while others whispered among each other.
Among these people were a scholar, a hunter, and even a child.
The acolyte walked to the front, cleared his throat, and announced: "Since all of you have entered this gate, it means you are willing to sever all ties with worldly affairs. Starting today, whether you catch the Immortal Master's eye will depend on your conduct."
Many faces lit up with longing.
The acolyte swept his gaze over the crowd, and Fang Zhiyi noticed a subtle change in his expression. When he looked at the younger ones, his interest was visibly higher; at the older ones, he frowned. But when his eyes met Fang Zhiyi's, his expression was rather flat.
Fang Zhiyi was confident in his ability to conceal his aura. After all, having absorbed so many heretical cultivators' souls, he had mastered a wide range of techniques by now.
"Later this evening, the Immortal Master will host a banquet for you at the Invitation to Immortality Terrace. For now, rest at your leisure." After saying this, the acolyte turned and left.
As Fang Zhiyi was pondering, someone patted him on the shoulder.
He spun around suddenly and saw a man dressed as a scholar. The man was about thirty, his face covered in stubble.
"Little brother, you came seeking fame and fortune too?"
Fang Zhiyi nodded, then turned and sat down on a random stone bench. But the scholar followed him. "I arrived before you, so I'm at least your senior apprentice brother, right?"
Fang Zhiyi looked at him with a hint of amusement.
The scholar began introducing himself.
His surname was Chu, full name Chu Xiangye. His family was fairly well-off, but he had repeatedly failed the imperial exams. Chu Xiangye was nothing but a bookworm, ignorant of worldly affairs. In a fit of anger, he had thrown away his sacred texts and started reading the popular novels circulating in the markets. Once he started reading them, he became obsessed, dreaming day and night of becoming an immortal.
So, after his wife nagged him to the point of irritation, Chu Xiangye abandoned his parents and wife, sneaking out on his own to seek immortality. He nearly died in a tiger's jaws, but was fortunately rescued by an old man in the nick of time, who then guided him here.
Chu Xiangye had an endless stream of chatter, his head full of fantasies about what he would do once he became an immortal.
"When that happens, we'll turn stone into gold. Who would care about high offices and fat salaries?" Chu Xiangye said, practically spitting with excitement. Fang Zhiyi sized him up.
This guy reminded him of an old tale.
Among the crowd was also a burly man with a vicious face and an incredibly loud voice. His speech was crude and vulgar, constantly cursing about others' ancestors, which kept almost everyone at a distance from him.
Chu Xiangye followed Fang Zhiyi's gaze and lowered his voice: "Junior brother, don't get involved with that one. He's a complete brute. Earlier, he tried to drive us off the mountain."
Fang Zhiyi nodded.
"I wonder what the immortal was thinking, letting such a violent man in."
Fang Zhiyi smiled. "After all, 'drop the butcher's knife and become a Buddha on the spot.'"
Chu Xiangye sneered. "That saying is nonsense. Why should a wicked man become a Buddha just by putting down his sword?"
As luck would have it, he hadn't lowered his voice when he said this, and exactly at that moment, all the other conversations paused. His words carried clearly. The Ruffian immediately shot a glare over, his chest bare and a short knife hanging at his waist.
"You there, scholar! What did you say? Are you talking shit about your father?"
Chu Xiangye trembled in fear. "I-I never mentioned your name!"
The Ruffian charged over almost instantly, grabbing Chu Xiangye by the collar. "I know you're talking about me! Get the hell out of here!" He raised his fist to strike, but someone shouted them down.
"What's all this noise and commotion? The banquet is ready. Everyone, follow me!" The acolyte stared hard at the Ruffian with clear displeasure.
The Ruffian cursed under his breath and reluctantly released Chu Xiangye.
Fang Zhiyi ignored Chu Xiangye's grumbling, stood up, and followed after the acolyte.
The group trailed behind the acolyte through two stone archways, then along a corridor flanked by a massive fish pond, with mist rising from the water's surface.
Soon, they arrived at an open platform where several small tables were arranged. At the front stood four or five stone tables.
Under the acolyte's direction, everyone took their seats. Fang Zhiyi, the Ruffian, and a few middle-aged men were seated at the back, which visibly annoyed the Ruffian, who kept muttering curses under his breath.
"No wine, no food—and you call this ready?" the Ruffian shouted as soon as he sat down.
Although the others were irritated, no one said anything.
The acolyte simply stood beside the stone table at the head of the room, coldly watching everyone. An indefinable pressure spread through the space, and soon the entire crowd fell silent.
Just then, a string of laughter rang out. Everyone turned around to see a middle-aged man in Daoist robes approaching. His face was warm and genial, faint mist swirling around him. Behind him followed several oddly dressed people, politely deferring to one another as they walked in.
saw a female celebrity tied up and stuffed in the trunk! Little did he know, countless cameras were aimed at him at this moment - this was a new type of reality show. The first randomly selected passerby was caught in less than an hour. But when Xu Moru was selected, things started to take an unexpected turn. "Damn, this isn't how the script goes. This Xu Moru is too bold, he's not following the rules at all." "Crap, is this guy taking it seriously?" "The female celebrity has been scared to tears!"
uld barely embark on the path to immortality. Just as he was on the verge of death, his golden finger awakened. No matter whether it was poison, drained blood and vital energy, diminished lifespan, or any other physical debuff caused by paying a price—once midnight passed, everything would be refreshed. From then on, whenever someone asked what kind of person Chu Ran was, the answer was simple: Forbidden arts that other cultivators dared not learn? Chu Ran would learn them. Prices that even demonic cultivators dared not pay? Chu Ran would pay them. Lifespan that even righteous cultivators dared not burn? Chu Ran would burn it. All the blood essence in his body? Take it. Want both his hands and feet? He would cut them off and send them to you. You say he’s finished? He wasn’t built to sit idle. You think he’s gone mad? No—he was simply waiting for midnight. From that day onward, Chu Ran would respect neither Heaven nor Earth, bow to neither gods nor ghosts. He had only one wish: For midnight to arrive a little sooner.
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."
