When Fang Zhiyi walked out of prison, he immediately headed home, wanting to take a shower and get some proper sleep.
Though countless judgmental eyes followed him through the neighborhood, he paid them little mind—until he realized something was wrong. The family of Li Tiantian seemed to have vanished.
After showering and changing, Fang Zhiyi went out to ask around. The only person willing to speak to him was Uncle Zhang, the gatekeeper.
"You got yourself into some serious trouble, kid," Uncle Zhang said. Fang Zhiyi then learned they had made the news—now everyone believed he was a murderer.
When he asked about Li Tiantian’s family, Uncle Zhang sighed. "Gone. Dead."
Fang Zhiyi froze.
From Uncle Zhang, he learned the whole story. Shortly after Fang Zhiyi was imprisoned, Li Tiantian had fallen to her death.
Uncle Zhang lowered his voice. "Heard it was that brat from the Wang Family who pushed her, but no one saw it happen."
Fang Zhiyi’s scalp prickled with rage. That little bastard was capable of something like this!
Father Li and Mother Li had reported it to the police, but with no surveillance in the neighborhood, the case went nowhere. Desperate, Mother Li went door to door, begging for witnesses. No one had seen anything—or if they had, they were too afraid to speak up. Nobody wanted trouble.
Father Li, distraught over his daughter’s death, accidentally brushed against Old Lady Gao’s sleeve while riding his electric bike out of the neighborhood. The old couple immediately demanded compensation, then insisted on a hospital checkup. Hoping to avoid further conflict, Father Li complied. But somehow, they found out where he worked and showed up at his workplace, causing a scene. They told everyone his daughter’s death was divine punishment for his lack of respect for elders—that he’d get his comeuppance sooner or later.
Father Li lost his job. But the old couple didn’t stop. They camped outside his home daily, demanding money, throwing trash at his doorstep if he refused.
Meanwhile, Mother Li overheard the young couple upstairs discussing the incident. Realizing they might have witnessed it, she pleaded with them to testify. Instead, they mocked her, implying Tiantian’s death was an accident—blaming the parents for negligence. The husband even sneered, "Life’s hard for everyone these days. Stop expecting others to take responsibility for you. With your situation, maybe you should focus on squeezing out some compensation instead of crying uselessly." His wife elbowed him, and they shut the door in her face.
Their words were like shattered blades stabbing into Mother Li’s already broken heart. As she stumbled back downstairs, she caught a glimpse of a neighbor’s door closing—and the pair of eyes that had been watching her.
It wasn’t until the stench spread that the neighborhood discovered Li Tiantian’s parents had taken their own lives in their shattered home.
Standing at their doorstep, Fang Zhiyi felt a storm of emotions churning inside him. What kind of justice was this? He turned and kicked the Wang Family’s door a few times, but no one answered.
Dazed, Fang Zhiyi left the neighborhood and spent his last money on beer. Drunk and swaying, he resolved to confront the Wang Family. But as he staggered toward their building, a flowerpot crashed onto his head. Dazed, he heard the voice of that little bastard—and Old Lady Wang’s shrill cry:
"A murderer like him? Good riddance! Don’t worry, my dear grandson. If he dares threaten our Wang Family, this old woman will take his life myself!"
Fang Zhiyi didn’t die. He lay there for who knows how long before dragging himself home. But when he opened the door, two strangers were waiting inside. They exchanged a glance and attacked before he could react.
He died in confusion.
The two were avenging a brother killed in a brawl years ago.
After reviewing the memories, Fang Zhiyi smoothed his hair. "Just a small-time thug trying to scrape by—never meant to hurt anyone."
He grasped the key point: the original Fang Zhiyi, despite his rough exterior, had never done anything truly evil. Even drunk, he’d only wanted answers from the Wang Family.
"Well, professionalism matters in every line of work," Fang Zhiyi mused. He picked out a garish floral shirt, admired himself in the mirror, and swaggered out the door.
First, he visited a flea market and bought a polished steel pipe, hiding it under his bed. Then he headed to the market entrance. Without hesitation, he intercepted Old Yu, a veteran cop in the area, as the man rode by on his bicycle.
Old Yu studied the young troublemaker. He knew Fang Zhiyi’s record and had tried countless times to steer him straight—but the kid had always bolted at the sight of him. Today was the first time Fang Zhiyi had ever approached him willingly.
"What do you want?" Old Yu parked his bike, wary.
Fang Zhiyi grinned. "Got a gift for you, Old Yu."
Old Yu waved him off. "A gift? What’d you do now?" Before he could finish, Fang Zhiyi lowered his voice. "My boss is dealing drugs."
Old Yu tensed, glancing around before motioning sharply. "Come with me."
They wound through alleys to a small courtyard—Old Yu’s home, quiet now with the family at work. The cop poured Fang Zhiyi a glass of water, face stern. "Explain. Carefully."
The original Fang Zhiyi had learned plenty about his boss while in prison. Now, he spilled everything. Old Yu stared, stunned by the vivid details, then suddenly grabbed Fang Zhiyi’s arm. "Kid, were you involved?"
Fang Zhiyi paused, meeting Old Yu’s tense gaze. He chuckled. "Relax, Old Yu. I’m small fry—they wouldn’t trust me with that stuff."
"I just overheard things while fetching tea. Got scared and figured I’d come to you."
Old Yu searched his face, then nodded and stepped out to make a call. Soon, seven or eight plainclothes officers arrived. Fang Zhiyi repeated his story under their scrutiny.
The courtyard fell into heavy silence.
Finally, a middle-aged man who hadn’t spoken stood and eyed Fang Zhiyi’s tattooed arm. "Under Northern Kingdom law, evidence is required for prosecution."
Fang Zhiyi frowned. This world differed slightly from his own—something he’d noticed while sorting through the original’s memories. The Northern Kingdom’s vast territory and limited police force meant a small-time thug’s testimony alone wouldn’t cut it. That’s why his "boss" had operated with impunity for so long.
The man rubbed his chin. "There is a way."
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.
ut it can buy an entire year of absolutely perfect training results! Su Yu stared at his empty wallet and decisively opened up various online loan platforms. “Borrow a thousand bucks! Recharge my vitality!” Boom! His vitality broke a hundred points, shattering the limits of the human body! “Borrow ten thousand bucks! Recharge my combat skills!” Boom! A basic punching technique so common it was everywhere instantly maxed out, revealing the ultimate assassination technique of Five Elements Unity—Inner Force! When a rich kid hired assassins for a midnight ambush, aiming to break both of his legs, they instead ran headfirst into a monster—a human-shaped tyrannosaur, brimming with dragon-like vitality. With just two fingers, Su Yu snapped a steel staff reinforced with alloy. Staring at the killer’s stash of stolen cash—a staggering quarter-million dollars—he showed a corporate-sincere smile: “Thanks for the pre-exam gift pack, Mr. Zhao! I’m gonna go re-invest this!” Three days later, at the National Martial Arts College Entrance Exam, while everyone else struggled just to reach the passing line, Su Yu threw a single punch—and more than a thousand vitality points literally detonated the entire arena!
lity and could only live as an ordinary mortal. He only wished to live a peaceful life. Yet he didn't know— The dog he adopted, because it ate his food, became a legendary demon king. The kitchen knife he casually forged became a peerless divine weapon, causing numerous experts to fight desperately for it. The young disciple he took in became an immortal lord that led an era, due to cultivating the techniques Ye Feng taught him. Even the skeletons he looked down on the most were ominous demon kings that suppressed countless worlds. Many years later, looking at the void shattered with a punch, Ye Feng murmured to himself: It turns out the peerless kings were myself all along...
't think I'm that capable, I'm just trying my best to stay alive. I've been kind all my life, never did anything bad, yet worldly suffering spared me not one bit. The human world is a nice place, but I won't come back in my next life. A kind young man, who wanted to just get by singing, but through repeated deceits and betrayals, has gone down an irredeemable path.
