It was only at this moment that Fang Zhiyi reluctantly turned back to the villagers and said, "He died because of me, so I have to take care of his affairs for him. Don't worry too much—just find a place to bury his body."
With that, Fang Zhiyi left without another word, leaving a group of bewildered villagers behind.
Little Hei suddenly realized that Fang Zhiyi could no longer hear him speak.
It quickly understood: this time, things had gone too far!
Because Tripitaka had died, Fang Zhiyi had been forcibly dragged into the karmic ties of this world!
"That bastard, those country bumpkins sure are hard to shake!" the fleeing bandit leader cursed under his breath. Fortunately, he hadn't brought all his men this time; some were still back at the stronghold. Once he regrouped, he’d take them back and settle the score!
He returned to his territory, and facing his subordinates' questions, the leader’s face turned ashen.
But just as he gulped down a few mouthfuls of rice wine, commotion erupted outside.
"Damn it! What’s all this noise? You think I’m not annoyed enough already?" he roared, kicking over a table and storming toward the door. But the moment he reached the entrance, he saw a figure flying straight at him.
The leader quickly dodged, barely avoiding being knocked down by one of his own men.
"What the hell! Are you tired of living?"
That henchman’s face was full of terror as he pointed outside, stammering, "Chief, i-it’s a—a monk!"
"What monk?" The leader’s head throbbed at the mere mention of monks. He’d already dealt with one blabbermouth of a monk today. But when he lifted his eyes to look outside, his entire body went stiff.
A figure in a kasaya stood there, one hand spread open, his five fingers clamped onto the face of a low-ranking bandit. As his fingers pressed down, the man’s body twitched once and then went limp.
"You—you are—no, no, no! You’re dead! You..." The leader recognized that kasaya, embroidered with golden patterns! But that monk had clearly slit his own throat...
The figure slowly turned his face.
The leader was terrified. "It’s you again!" He recognized Fang Zhiyi.
If not for this kid, they wouldn’t have suffered such a huge loss!
Fang Zhiyi wore the kasaya, with half of his body exposed. He waved at the leader. "Long time no see. How’s things?"
"Like hell—" Glancing around, the leader grabbed a basket and hurled it, then immediately turned to flee.
But he only made it a few steps before feeling a chill in his lower abdomen. Looking down, he saw half a blade protruding from his belly.
Fang Zhiyi clapped his hands. "Bullseye!"
He turned and saw Tripitaka’s ghost following him like a shadow. Fang Zhiyi looked up at the sky. The sun was blazing—why wasn’t this guy afraid of sunlight?
And contrary to what he expected, as he slaughtered these bandits, Tripitaka’s expression remained utterly indifferent.
That look in his eyes was nothing like when he was alive.
Fang Zhiyi had tried calling out to Little Hei several times, but it was as if Little Hei had vanished into thin air.
After a moment’s thought, he figured it out: this must be Tripitaka’s doing. But for now, he had no good way to deal with it. After all, he’d picked a fight with someone he shouldn’t have from the start.
After many attempts, Fang Zhiyi discovered that no matter what he did, Tripitaka showed no reaction—just stared blankly. Only when he mentioned the "pilgrimage for scriptures" did Tripitaka stir.
"What an obsession..." Fang Zhiyi sighed. "But then again, if I’m not mistaken, this is your ninth attempt to get the scriptures... Not a single success. I’d go crazy too, if I were you."
Tripitaka stared at Fang Zhiyi without emotion.
"But why do you have to retrieve the scriptures? You’ve got plenty of theoretical knowledge—why not just compile some yourself?"
Tripitaka still didn’t answer.
Fang Zhiyi was at a loss. He cleaned out anything valuable from the bandit den and loaded it onto a horse. "Letting you set out alone for the scriptures—Yang Jian sure had a lot of nerve."
"If I retrieve the scriptures for you, will you disappear?" Fang Zhiyi suddenly asked.
After a long pause, the monk’s ghost slowly nodded, the wound on his neck gaping and closing in a grotesque rhythm.
"Damn it, I really owe you one," Fang Zhiyi grumbled.
A realization dawned on him: when Tripitaka was alive, he had no memory of his past lives, acting only on this life’s thoughts. But after death, all memories returned, and he reverted to his original nature.
That so-called original nature was the mind of an immortal or Buddha—compassionate, yet utterly indifferent to mortal lives.
"If you’d been like this earlier, you wouldn’t have died." Fang Zhiyi muttered as he headed down the mountain.
Soon, he discovered the perks of being a monk in the Sui Dynasty: no matter who he met, everyone treated him with great respect.
Fang Zhiyi managed to find out roughly where he was. This place wasn’t far from Fufeng Commandery. To travel west, he’d have to go to Qinzhou, enter the Hexi Corridor, and then step into the Western Regions...
"I’ll be worn out before I even get there," Fang Zhiyi mumbled.
No one replied, except for Tripitaka’s ghost, which followed him everywhere.
But then Fang Zhiyi paused, slowly turned, and stared at Tripitaka. Man and ghost locked eyes.
A sudden smile spread across Fang Zhiyi’s face. "Retrieving the scriptures is good. I’ll do it."
He leaped onto the horse, pulled the reins, and the horse turned southward, galloping away.
"Your Majesty, the Crown Prince’s fever has broken, but he’s been raving about 'time travel' and asking if there are any doctors," a guard reported to Yang Jian.
Yang Jian narrowed his eyes. "Could he have encountered some demon? Quickly summon the monks!"
"Yes!"
"System, are you saying this is the Sui Dynasty?" asked the prince, clad in luxurious robes.
"Yes, host."
"So what’s the mission?"
"To pursue a highly dangerous fugitive."
"Huh?" The prince looked confused.
"If you succeed, the host will have enough points."
"Meaning I can go home?"
"Yes."
"Alright then, let’s see what fugitive is so extraordinary."
His door suddenly swung open, and two rows of monks filed in, chanting Buddhist verses.
"Prince Jin, His Majesty has specially arranged for people to cleanse you of evil spirits," someone announced.
Prince Jin remained calm. He didn’t believe in this sort of nonsense at all, but for the mission, he could tolerate it.
As per his usual thinking, if he used the system wisely, he could secure his throne, and then capturing a fugitive would be a breeze. After all, under heaven, the emperor is the greatest!
He was still planning his next steps when suddenly one of the monks opened his eyes wide, locking his gaze on him.
"Prince Jin carries an unclean thing! Form the formation!"
At his shout, the other monks fanned out, surrounding Prince Jin, and began chanting sutras loudly.
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."
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.”
u Chenyuan transmigrated into a female-oriented novel about a real and fake heiress, becoming the CEO elder brother of both. Unfortunately, the entire Lu family—including himself, the CEO—were mere cannon fodder in the story. Determined to save himself, Lu Chenyuan took action. The spoiled, attention-seeking fake heiress? Thrown into the harsh realities of the working class to learn humility. The love-struck real heiress? Pushed toward academic excellence, so lofty goals would blind her to trivial romances. As for the betrayed, vengeful arranged marriage wife… the plot hadn’t even begun yet. There was still time—if he couldn’t handle her, he could at least avoid her. "CEO Lu, are you avoiding me?" Mo Qingli fixed her gaze on Lu Chenyuan. For the first time, the shrewd and calculating Lu Chenyuan felt a flicker of unease.
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.
