On the other side of the city, within the royal capital, two young nobles—now changed into casual attire—walked shoulder to shoulder, their arms draped over each other.
"We've found out where that guy lives."
"Where?"
"The slums."
"Ugh, do we really have to go to such a filthy, stinking place?"
"By the way, why isn’t Rhein handling this himself?"
"He said Princess Vivian has been keeping her distance from him lately. Maybe she doesn’t like him picking fights."
"Tch, that guy. But once he marries the princess, our families might climb a little higher in status, right?"
"Just wait. I’ll gather some men, and we’ll go teach that kid a lesson."
The two summoned a few lackeys and, fueled by alcohol, headed toward the city outskirts. The path from the royal capital to the slums passed through a secluded stretch, rumored to be a hotspot for robberies by the lowborn. But as students of the magic academy, accompanied by their entourage, they had nothing to fear.
Halfway through their journey, they were indeed stopped—but not by mere thieves.
"Heh, this should be fun." To them, killing a few commoners—especially slum-dwelling bandits—was no big deal.
Yet, under the flickering torchlight, the figures blocking their path revealed their true forms: reeking, gray-skinned zombies, some with rotting flesh exposing their ghastly white teeth.
"What the—"
"I’ve been following you for a while, curious how many you’d bring. And this is it?" Fang Zhiyi emerged from the shadows.
"You!" The two men sobered instantly. As magic academy students, they’d attended the mandatory class on magical history—where the legends of necromancers stood out most vividly.
Without another word, Fang Zhiyi let the zombies clumsily close in.
Later, crouched in the graveyard, Fang Zhiyi studied the three fresh corpses before him, a small pouch of scavenged gold coins in hand. Skeletons carried the bodies onto a ritual-drawn circle, followed by a lengthy incantation.
The young men’s corpses gradually withered, their skin turning ashen and brittle, their blood seemingly absorbed by the earth. Then—a twitch of fingers. Crimson eyes snapped open.
Fang Zhiyi raised a hand, sensing the energy. After a moment, he smirked.
"Perfect. Fresh corpses are far more suitable." He eyed the three newly risen ghouls. "You got what you deserved."
When the weekend ended, news of three missing students spread through the academy. Teachers hurried about, and rumors swirled that the Mage Association had dispatched several archmages to investigate.
Fang Zhiyi collected his monthly stipend, informed Ross he’d be skipping class, and slipped away unnoticed.
No one cared about his attendance. To the faculty, his presence or absence made no difference—except for Vivian, who watched with knowing calm. She hadn’t revealed Fang Zhiyi’s secrets to her mentor, having endured betrayal herself. Still, she kept tabs on him, certain he was off practicing necromancy.
In the slums, Lily’s father studied the changed young man before him—and the gold in his hand—before firmly refusing.
"We belong here. I know about the orc threat, and though I was once a deserter, I’ll stand for the kingdom when it calls." The man’s weathered face held unshakable resolve. Fang Zhiyi sighed.
"Brother Zhiyi! Mom’s making stew today—you have to stay!" Lily beamed, unable to hide her joy.
Fang Zhiyi patted her head, already revising his plans.
"You’re still too thin. Mages ought to train more," Lily’s father remarked, eyeing him critically. Fang Zhiyi nodded. "Noted."
"Don’t listen to him—he doesn’t know a thing," Lily’s mother interjected, carrying a dish. "Sit down and rest awhile."
Watching the family, Fang Zhiyi felt his resolve waver.
After dinner, he bid them farewell—but left the gold hidden in a hat by their door. It was one of the few things he could do for the original owner of this body.
At the crossroads, Fang Zhiyi paused, glancing toward the distant forest.
Almost time.
Back at the academy, he was met by a familiar face: Rhein, with Princess Vivian at his side.
Fang Zhiyi smirked. Rhein’s expression darkened as he stormed forward. "Did you have something to do with my friends’ disappearance?"
Vivian followed, her gaze flickering with calculation.
"What are you talking about? Who are your friends?" Fang Zhiyi feigned innocence. "Are you still unwell? Maybe you should go home."
Rhein’s eyes bulged. "Rhein, that’s no way to speak to him," Vivian chided.
Clenching his jaw, Rhein suddenly lunged. Towering half a head taller, he loomed over Fang Zhiyi.
"You—"
"Whoa! Rhein, personal space! I’m not into men!" Fang Zhiyi backpedaled, clutching his chest like a scandalized maiden.
Students milling about during break turned at the commotion. Scandal, it seemed, was universally entertaining.
Rhein’s face flushed crimson. "Fang Zhiyi! I challenge you to a duel!"
Fang Zhiyi rolled his eyes. Destiny really loves its clichés.
"Pass." He shrugged.
Rhein seethed. "You worthless trash! I can’t imagine what kind of gutter spawned you!"
Ah, the classic parental insult. Fang Zhiyi’s smile vanished. Vivian mused silently, plotting how to gracefully intervene.
"What’s that look? Mourning your pathetic parents?" Rhein sneered.
Fang Zhiyi spread his hands. "I’m just wondering—did nature give you a head purely for height?"
Rhein blinked, uncomprehending, as laughter rippled around them. Something felt off.
Shaking his head, Fang Zhiyi lamented the world’s lack of creative insults. Well, if they’re asking for it…
He planted his hands on his hips. Rhein, finally processing the jab, jabbed a finger at him. "You stupid, good-for-noth—"
"Nothing? You dare judge me? Did your brain cells file for divorce? Shake that skull of yours before speaking! Spouting nonsense about family—did you mistake mouthwash for sewage? Barking like a rabid mutt, yet somehow passing for human. Impressive, really."
Rhein was stunned, and so were the people around. Vivian snapped back to reality—since when was Fang Zhiyi so vicious with his insults?
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.
Cheng's father told him he was getting remarried—to a wealthy woman. Cao Cheng realized his time had finally come: he was about to become a second-generation rich kid. Sure, it might be a watered-down version, but hey, at least he'd have status now, right? The wealthy woman also had four daughters!! Which meant, starting today, Cao Cheng gained four stunning older sisters?? But that wasn't even the whole story... "My name is Cao Cheng—'Cheng' as in 'honest, smooth-talking gentleman'!"
reezy rom-com) Good news: Jiang Liu is quite the ladies' man. Bad news: He’s lost his memory. Lying in a hospital bed, Jiang Liu listens to a parade of goddesses spouting "absurd claims," feeling like the world is one giant game of Werewolf. "Jiang Liu, I’m your first love." "Jiang Liu, you’re my boyfriend—she’s your ex." "Jiang Liu, we’re close friends who’ve shared a bed, remember?" "Jiang Liu, I want to have your baby." The now-lucid Jiang Liu is convinced this must be some elaborate scam... until someone drops the bombshell: "The day before you lost your memory, you confessed your feelings—and got into a relationship." Jiang Liu is utterly baffled. So... who the hell is his actual girlfriend?! ... Before recovering his memories, Jiang Liu must navigate this minefield of lies and sincerity, fighting to protect himself from these women’s schemes. But things spiral even further out of control as more people show up at his doorstep—each with increasingly unhinged antics. On the bright side, the memories he lost due to overwhelming trauma seem to be resurfacing. Great news, right? So why are they all panicking now?
esick Sect? Well, at least it's considered a respectable orthodox sect. Wait a minute— What kind of vibe are you all giving off? Shouldn’t this be a love-struck, romance-obsessed sect? Why does everyone here sound more like demonic cultivators? "Master, today he’s getting married. This disciple wishes to descend the mountain and crash the wedding, then toy with him to death right in front of his wife..." "Elder, I only got into your sect through connections, so why won’t you teach me anything?" "Because I also became an elder through connections." Thankfully, Su Ji was just an outer sect labor disciple. Surely, nothing too crazy would— "Junior Brother, you’ve broken through to Qi Refining. Once you sever your useless spiritual root, you can officially become an outer sect disciple." "The Great Dao is merciless. Don’t let a worthless spiritual root waste your essence and spirit, hindering your cultivation." Is this really the Lovesick Sect? ... Three years later, Su Ji sat in the seat of the Lovesick Sect’s sect master, sighing with emotion. His rise to this position all started when his junior sister adamantly insisted on preserving his "spiritual root." "Mmm... Senior Brother, what’s our relationship now?" "Stop talking. Keep going." "By the way, that newly promoted top-tier sect—didn’t they come to buy our Love Beans?" "One top-grade spirit stone per Love Bean—is that really so expensive?" "I suspect they’ve eaten too many Love Beans." "Now they’re lovesick." Well, this really is the Lovesick Sect after all.
