The next moment, scenes suddenly appeared before Fang Zhiyi's eyes.
He was sitting in front of a computer writing a novel, with different manuscripts scattered on the floor. Then the scene shifted—Little Hei, spinning wild tales, dragged him into a time travel. He became a ghost, a Taoist priest, then a monster… a merchant, an emperor, a ruffian…
More and more images flooded Fang Zhiyi’s vision, and along with them came something filling his body—a tremendous energy that nearly made him burst apart.
Different versions of himself fell from the sky, slamming into him with pinpoint accuracy.
Each impact brought intense pain and a sensation of being torn apart.
Ghost Tripitaka’s voice, flat and emotionless, kept reciting something.
“Attain nirvana…”
“Ahhh!!!” Fang Zhiyi sat up with a start, drenched in sweat.
Before him were two strange faces, both staring straight at him.
“Great King, you’re finally awake!” Eight-Tails said, very excited.
“Stinky monk! What did you do? Spill it!” From not far away, Sun Wukong’s staff was pointed directly at Tripitaka, but Tripitaka stood there calmly, his gaze not even on Sun Wukong but on Fang Zhiyi, as always.
“Great Sage, it’s fine now,” Fang Zhiyi said breathlessly, standing up with help from Sha Wujing.
“Fine? Great King, you passed out for seven whole days!” Eight-Tails said.
Fang Zhiyi was stunned. Seven days?
“If I’d known helping you copy these characters would lead to this… you’re way too into scriptures. Fainting from excitement while reading them? No wonder you’re a venerable monk…”
Fang Zhiyi clenched his fist. An incredibly terrifying power began to surge.
He suddenly turned to look at Tripitaka, who stared back at him the same way.
“I understand now,” Fang Zhiyi murmured.
“What do you understand, Great King?” Eight-Tails asked, confused.
“Every life is a reincarnation. This power is infinite…” Fang Zhiyi fixed his eyes on Tripitaka. “How much do you truly know?”
But Tripitaka said nothing, just watched him quietly.
“Great King, who are you talking to? It’s getting creepy. There aren’t any ghosts here, are there?” Eight-Tails kept chattering.
“You’re a monster. How can you be afraid of ghosts?” Sha Wujing asked.
“Who says monsters can’t fear ghosts?”
“Can monsters turn into ghosts?”
Eight-Tails was stumped by the question. “Hmm… You know what? That’s actually a good point…”
Sun Wukong gave Fang Zhiyi a deep look. Shock filled his eyes, but he quickly calmed down.
“As long as you’re fine, let’s get moving. We’ve already lost seven days.”
“Great Sage, do monsters become ghosts after they die?” Eight-Tails asked.
“Huh?” Sun Wukong paused, then turned to stare at Eight-Tails.
“What are you looking at me for?”
“How about we test it out?”
“Better focus on getting on the road.”
On the summit of Spirit Mountain, Buddha—who had kept his eyes closed until now—suddenly opened them wide.
“Alas…” A soft sigh escaped his lips.
The surrounding arhats all turned to look at him.
“Summon Guanyin here.”
“Yes!”
Patriarch Bodhi lifted his gaze from the chessboard and exchanged a look with the Jade Emperor.
“Indeed intriguing… Where will this game ultimately lead…”
The Jade Emperor, however, glanced at the teacup beside Bodhi. A faint glow emanated from the cup, and within the glow, a minuscule figure seemed to form.
“Neither of us is the one moving the pieces. Let’s just watch how heaven and earth act.”
That night, by a riverside courtyard, a figure suddenly leaped from the river. After landing, it floundered a bit, gradually taking on a human shape, and then walked step by step toward the courtyard gate.
It pushed open the door, its thick lips trembling, drool dripping down.
This marked the eightieth year it had occupied the water mansion. Ever since striking a deal with the villagers, every year at this time, it came to collect its due reward.
What reward?
Naturally, a boy and a girl. To it, the taste of children was exquisite.
In return, it promised not to stir up waves or plague the villagers.
Today was no different. It pushed open the inner room’s door, but the children who should have been sitting on the altar were nowhere to be found.
This made the Inspiration King a bit angry.
Those foolish humans dared to stand it up?
The door closed behind it.
The Inspiration King turned around and saw a furry face.
“Looking for your daddy?”
Along with those words came a staff. The Inspiration King reacted instantly, raising its weapon to block. One blow told it this was no ordinary opponent. It didn’t linger, instead crashing its body through the window.
Sun Wukong reached out and grabbed it, but his hand came away slick. The Inspiration King’s slippery body slithered right through his grasp.
But as it landed, the Inspiration King looked up to find sharp claws right in its face. Panicked, it rolled sideways repeatedly to dodge.
When it stopped, it clearly bumped into something. Looking up, a crescent-moon shovel came swinging down.
“Bastards! Who are you? How dare you attack me, the great king!” The Inspiration King couldn’t dodge in time, so it raised an arm to block. Its fish scales absorbed some of the impact, preventing Sha Wujing’s blade from severing its hand.
“Who are we? Amitabha. We’re just passersby,” Fang Zhiyi’s voice rang out. He was still bare-chested and made a mock gesture of greeting.
The Inspiration King stared at the monk nearby.
“Stinky monk, like meddling in others’ business, do you? I…”
Fang Zhiyi raised a finger. “No, no, absolutely not meddling. We’ve been paid.”
Those words choked off whatever the Inspiration King was about to say.
“Pa… Paid?”
“We take money, we solve problems… Blessed be.”
Fang Zhiyi wasn’t lying. After passing through the Flaming Mountains, they had handed out a lot of the looted treasure to keep some monsters from helping for free. When they counted what was left, the group had no money at all.
Then they ended up here and landed a big job.
“Stop wasting words with it! Fifty taels of silver! Don’t run!” Sun Wukong brandished his Golden Cudgel and gave chase.
The Inspiration King was horrified. It was only worth fifty taels of silver? What a joke!
But this wasn’t the time to argue. Its priority was getting back to the river. Once in the water, its power would double, and not even these fools together could stop it.
With that thought, the Inspiration King glanced toward Fang Zhiyi.
A fish, a fox, a monkey—right now, only the monk seemed the weakest!
Stinky monk! Come into the river with me!
The Inspiration King dodged another of Sun Wukong’s attacks and lunged at Fang Zhiyi.
But in that instant, it felt something was off. Why weren’t the other demons tense at all?
And why had that monkey just rammed his staff into the ground, looking like he was ready to enjoy the show?
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.
e bizarre and supernatural had descended. The previous emperor was a thoroughgoing tyrant; no longer satisfied with human women, he had set his sights on a stunningly beautiful supernatural entity. He met his end in his bedchamber, drained of all his vital essence. As the legitimate eldest son and crown prince, Wang Hao was thus hastily enthroned, becoming the young emperor of the Great Zhou Dynasty. No sooner had he awakened the "Imperial Sign-In Intelligence System" than he was assassinated by a Son of Destiny—a classic villain's opening. The Great Zhou, ravaged by the former emperor's excesses, was in national decline. The great families within its borders harbored their own treacherous schemes, martial sects began to defy the imperial court's decrees, and border armies, their pay and provisions in arrears, grumbled incessantly against the central government. Fortunately, the central capital was still held secure by the half-million Imperial Guards and fifty thousand Imperial Forest Army who obeyed the court's orders, along with the royal family's hidden reserves of power, barely managing to suppress the realm. As the Great Zhou's finances worsened and supernatural activities grew ever more frequent, the court sat atop a volcano. Ambitious plotters everywhere dreamed of overthrowing the dynasty, and even some reclusive ancient powers emerged, attempting to sway the tides of the world. At the first grand court assembly, the civil and military officials nearly came to blows, fighting tooth and nail over the allocation of fifty million taels of silver from the summer tax revenues. The spectacle opened Wang Hao's eyes—the Great Zhou's bureaucracy was not only corrupt but also martially proficient, a cabinet of all-rounders. Some officials even had the audacity to suggest the emperor release funds from the imperial privy purse to address the emergency. Wang Hao suddenly felt weary. Let it all burn.
lanned to earn money steadily and take life at a slower pace. But he never expected... his father's remarriage, and the stepmother bringing along a dependent, would completely disrupt his life's plans...
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."
