Su Xun looked at the locust-wood carving by his feet. After hesitating for a moment, he bent down and picked it up.
He tore away the red thread wrapped around it. The man kindly tossed over the lighter in his hand. By its flame, Su Xun took a look. The characters were small, but they did indeed contain his exact birth date and time, along with several strands of hair.
“A red cord binds the soul and fixes one’s fate. You almost traded lives with someone else, and you still had the nerve to dig your own grave?” the man sneered. “Hand it over.”
After taking a moment to react, Su Xun handed him the wooden figure.
“Hmph. Greed will always bring trouble.” The man sneered again. Without hesitation, he tapped the top of the figurine three times with his finger. Then he took the lighter and set it alight. Perhaps because it was wrapped in paper, the twig burned incredibly fast.
As he watched the little figure gradually burn away, Su Xun thought he heard a scream.
But when he glanced around, it seemed that he was the only one who had heard it.
The man tossed aside the branch, which was already dying out, shoved his hands into his pockets, and headed toward the village. After walking a few steps, he turned around and asked, “Do you know where Su Jinsong’s house is?”
Su Xun was still dazed. At the question, he turned his head. “Su Jinsong? Su Jinsong… he’s my grandfather. He passed away.”
“No kidding. If he weren’t dead, I wouldn’t have come all this way!” the man snapped impatiently. “Lead the way!”
Su Xun thought about it, then turned back and picked up the rooster again. After all, it had been borrowed.
There was still some distance to his house. Every now and then, Su Xun glanced back at the man. He knew his grandfather?
The man said nothing and simply kept walking. When they were almost at the entrance, Su Xun saw Wang Lei standing there, looking frantic.
“Su Xun, you’re finally back! Hurry, hurry!”
“What happened?” Su Xun ran over in three quick strides.
“That fake Daoist—wait, where did he go?” Wang Lei pointed toward the room behind him, but there was no one there. “He was just here a moment ago. He seemed to have some kind of fit, clutching his chest and rolling around like an injured bear. I was thinking about finding someone, but I didn’t know who to call… What does this guy do?”
Su Xun entered the room, put down the rooster first, and then searched around. Strangely enough, the Daoist had really disappeared.
A voice came from behind him. “Stop looking. He ran off.”
Su Xun turned around. At some point, the man had lit three sticks of incense and respectfully placed them before his grandfather’s memorial portrait.
“You people must have offended someone, right?” the man asked casually.
Wang Lei looked at him suspiciously. “Who are you?”
The man glanced at him. “Don’t you know you’re supposed to give your own name before asking someone else’s?”
Wang Lei gave a cold snort. “Why should I?”
The man froze for a moment. “Now I understand how you managed to offend someone.”
“What do you mean, ‘offend someone’? Who is he?” Wang Lei asked Su Xun.
Su Xun shook his head. “Well, my name is Su Xun. I’m… Su Jinsong’s grandson.”
The man finally gave Su Xun his full attention. After looking him up and down, he said, “My surname is Zhao. I’m a Daoist.” He sat cross-legged, added some spirit money to the brazier, and watched as the paper bills caught fire. “Your grandfather once helped me with something. I told him that when he died, I would come and see him off.”
“Another Daoist?” Wang Lei’s expression became difficult to describe. “Is there really that much competition in this line of work?”
Daoist Zhao ignored him and instead looked at Su Xun. “Did you give your birth date and time to someone else?”
Su Xun nodded blankly.
“You’re awfully careless. That man’s got a nasty streak; he’ll probably come looking for trouble again.” As he spoke, he pulled a crumpled talisman from his trouser pocket. He glanced at it, his expression clearly pained by the thought of giving it up. “Take it. This will protect you for a while.”
Su Xun accepted it with a doubtful look. Daoist Zhao immediately looked displeased. “This was left behind by my master. It’s the only one I have. If it weren’t for your grandfather, I…”
Before he could finish, his face suddenly darkened.
He abruptly turned his head. “Looking to die?”
Su Xun and Wang Lei both looked in that direction, but saw nothing.
When they looked back at Daoist Zhao, his previously relaxed expression had become grim. His fingers were moving rapidly as he calculated something.
“Not bad. This one’s more professional than the last,” Wang Lei said, moving closer to Su Xun. His mouth was still as unpleasant as ever.
On the pitch-black mountain road, a figure who had been cursing as he ran suddenly stopped. He bent over and began vomiting violently. What came out was nothing but black liquid, foul-smelling and rancid. After he finished, he staggered forward a few steps and viciously wiped his mouth with his sleeve.
“Just wait. All of you, just wait!” he roared, though it was unclear who he was talking to. His face twisted in fury, and in the end he stumbled away into the mountain road.
The next day, Su Xun’s parents arrived with his younger brother. They wanted to bury the old man as soon as possible, but Daoist Zhao stopped them.
“Keep the body here for three days. Don’t you people observe even the most basic rites? Are you really his family?”
Su Wenqiang was displeased. “What kind of thing is that to say? We’re the deceased’s family. Why should we listen to your arrangements?”
Daoist Zhao frowned. “If the proper rites aren’t completed, I’m afraid your future days won’t go smoothly. It could even affect the blessings of your descendants.” As he spoke, he deliberately glanced at Su Xiaobai, who was standing behind Su Wenqiang.
Su Wenqiang looked ready to explode, but his wife tugged at him. Thinking of their son’s future, he could only swallow his anger.
“Fine, fine, fine. But let me make one thing clear: I’m only paying you for one day. If you insist on keeping the body here for three days, you won’t get paid for the other two!”
Daoist Zhao looked at the man before him with disdain. “Strange. The old man spent his entire life accumulating virtue. How did he end up with a son who has no fortune at all…?”
With that, he turned and entered the mourning hall. Su Wenqiang was furious, but when he saw that quite a few villagers had already arrived, he could only close his mouth and sulk.
“I like this Daoist. I’ve disliked your father for ages,” Wang Lei said cheerfully.
Su Xun sighed. “I’m going to get some sleep. Are you coming?”
Wang Lei waved him off. “No way. There’s a funeral feast! I’m staying to eat!” He had slept intermittently throughout the previous night, unlike Su Xun, who had spent the entire night staring wide-eyed into the darkness.
Su Xun returned to his room. He had not lived there for a long time, so he tidied it up a little before collapsing onto the bed and falling asleep.
In a daze, Su Xun realized that something was wrong. He tried to move his hand, but he couldn’t feel it at all. He immediately opened his eyes and saw a bright red garment standing directly in front of him. His gaze moved downward, landing on a pair of embroidered shoes. Then he looked higher—and saw a scene that nearly stopped his heart.
Old Madam Ma’s pale face hung above him, staring down. Her mouth was still open, an empty black void.
Su Xun tried to scream, but no sound came out.
He couldn’t move, either.
Doomed.
Those two words appeared in his mind.
At that moment, he couldn’t help blaming Daoist Zhao. If Daoist Zhao hadn’t interfered the previous day, perhaps the matter would have been settled by now.
But Old Madam Ma only stared at him. She made no further move, until a shout rang out beside Su Xun’s ear.
“Get lost!”
Su Xun felt his body regain control. He abruptly sat up, cold sweat already soaking through his back.
Daoist Zhao stood in the doorway, his eyes sweeping the room.
young master of the Shen family—a figure of immense power and wealth beyond measure—and awakened the "Destined Ultimate Villain System"! His starting scenario? Running into his icy fiancée who shows up with a mountain-descending divine doctor to break off their engagement. The divine doctor arrogantly taunts: "What does your Shen family have besides a bit of stinking money? You're not even worthy of tying Qingxue's shoelaces!" Shen Fei just smiled. He completely defied the usual script: "Fine, I agree to break off the engagement. Also, notify the finance department to withdraw all investments from the Su family." Minutes later, with its capital chain severed, the Su Group teetered on the brink of bankruptcy! The once aloof and proud ice queen CEO was thrown into utter panic. That very night, she went to Shen Fei's villa, casting aside all dignity to beg and plead desperately... From then on, in this world teeming with Sons of Destiny, Shen Fei embarked on a path of extreme dimensional suppression! A mountain-descending divine doctor? Peerless medical skills? Shen Fei: "Reporting you for practicing medicine without a license! I'll gladly take your ancient medicinal cauldron and twin sister assassins." The Crooked-Smiling Dragon King? Commanding a hundred thousand soldiers with a single order? Shen Fei: "Illegal assembly and suspected treason! Let a fleet of attack helicopters sanitize the area and teach you what the state apparatus really means!" A reborn tycoon? Knows all the golden opportunities of the next decade? Shen Fei: "A trillion in capital to reverse and pump the stock market, making you blow your margin and jump on the very first day of your rebirth!" What Chosen Ones? What bearers of Heavenly Fortune? In Shen Fei's eyes, they're all just chives (i.e., suckers/marks) waiting to be harvested! Shen Fei: "Sorry, but as the Destined Ultimate Villain, I don't play by the rules of honor. I only play the game of dimensional suppression."
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."
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, 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?"
