However, he hadn’t forgotten his main task. After the Wang Family paid compensation, things quieted down somewhat. Fortunately, Old Lady Wang was hospitalized, leaving her weak-willed son and daughter-in-law with no choice but to settle the matter with money. Without her around, they had no control over Wang Xiaoqiang.
After days of pent-up frustration, Wang Xiaoqiang finally stepped outside again, itching to vent his anger—even if it meant taking it out on a stray cat or dog.
But as soon as he turned the corner behind the apartment building, he ran into Fang Zhiyi again.
Instinctively, he tried to walk away, but Fang Zhiyi grabbed him by the ear and, with a grin, slipped a box of matches into his pocket.
Then, Fang Zhiyi straightened Wang Xiaoqiang’s collar and walked off casually.
Baffled, Wang Xiaoqiang pulled out the matches and examined them closely, but he couldn’t figure out their significance. Just then, hurried footsteps echoed from the nearby building. Several people came downstairs and locked eyes with him.
Wang Xiaoqiang recognized two of them—they were the ones who had dragged him home last time.
He flipped them off and turned to leave, but someone yanked him back and snatched the matches from his hand. "It’s this kid!"
"You again!" one of them roared, slapping him hard across the face.
Stunned, Wang Xiaoqiang didn’t understand why they’d hit him. Was it because of the matches? What was wrong with them?
As the group shouted accusations, more residents gathered, and Wang Xiaoqiang finally pieced it together—someone had been stuffing matches into people’s keyholes, and here he was, caught near the scene with the "evidence" in hand.
Helpless and furious, Wang Xiaoqiang—who feared nothing—felt terror creep in again. Fang Zhiyi, you can beat me or curse me all you want, but why do you keep framing me like this?
The crowd descended on the Wang Family once more. This time, without Old Lady Wang around, her timid son and daughter-in-law had no choice but to comply with every demand, reluctantly agreeing to pay compensation again.
Seeing Wang Xiaoqiang’s face flushed with rage, his father finally spoke up.
"Money doesn’t come easy in this family. Can’t you stop causing trouble outside?"
Wang Xiaoqiang glared at his cowardly, selfish father and snapped. He lunged at him, throwing wild punches.
His mother panicked, unsure whom to help, and could only watch as father and son brawled. Wang Xiaoqiang had the upper hand until his father stopped moving. Only then did his mother wail and pull him away, taking a few stray hits herself.
An ambulance arrived soon after and took his father away.
Old Yu ran into Fang Zhiyi on his way in and sighed. "Your neighborhood sure is lively—another incident in just a few days?"
Fang Zhiyi shrugged. "Who knows? Sorry to trouble you again, Uncle Yu." He patted Old Yu’s shoulder, and something slipped into the older man’s shirt. Old Yu caught it discreetly.
Fang Zhiyi strode off—he had plenty to do.
Wang Xiaoqiang was forcibly taken away, per his mother’s request. She didn’t dare be alone with him anymore. He would undergo psychological evaluation to determine the next steps.
The neighborhood enjoyed a brief period of quiet. When Old Lady Wang returned from the hospital, she wailed and cursed, but no one paid her any mind. Wang Xiaoqiang had been sent to a psychiatric facility for three months of corrective treatment. With her son and daughter-in-law avoiding her, she could only scream obscenities in the stairwell—until she spotted Fang Zhiyi approaching with a few burly men behind him. She quickly retreated inside.
"Brother Fang, should we move on Li Guaizi tonight?" one of the men asked as soon as they sat down.
Fang Zhiyi shook his head. "Too soon. I’ve just taken over the gambling dens and underground lottery. If we hit Li Guaizi now, the boss might see me as a threat."
His men clearly admired his caution.
"But the boss handed these operations to you himself. What’s there to fear?" one of them said, waving a hand.
Fang Zhiyi shot him a look before cracking open a beer and taking a sip.
"Brother Fang, the money from these places is piling up. You should get the loan sharks working," another suggested.
Fang Zhiyi nodded.
Easy. Too easy.
He was gradually gaining control, but the most critical operation—drug trafficking—remained out of reach. He needed to take down the boss in one decisive move.
With Section Chief Zhang’s help, the dirty money was laundered clean, further proving Fang Zhiyi’s competence. The boss’s eyes gleamed with increasing approval.
"Host, I just thought of a TV show," Xiao Hei said with a chuckle.
"What?"
"If they don’t make their move soon, you’ll be the boss."
Fang Zhiyi laughed. "The boss? Ha! You underestimate him."
Xiao Hei didn’t get it.
Fang Zhiyi explained, "If he wants to go clean, he’ll need someone to take the fall for his past crimes. And who’s the perfect scapegoat?"
Xiao Hei glanced around before settling his gaze on Fang Zhiyi.
"Exactly. Loyal, capable, young—the ideal patsy."
But the boss had miscalculated one thing: Fang Zhiyi had official backing now.
That same night, Zheng Laohu’s entertainment venues were trashed. As his thugs knelt in a line with their hands on their heads, one of Fang Zhiyi’s men lit a cigarette for him. Zheng Laohu, bloodied and bruised, was shoved forward, glaring.
"Young man, don’t get too cocky!"
"Cocky? Nah—wrong script." Fang Zhiyi exhaled smoke. "Brother Tiger, it’s time to retire."
Zheng Laohu’s expression shifted from rage to confusion, then shock. "The boss’s orders?"
Fang Zhiyi narrowed his eyes and nodded.
"You know too much. Loose lips sink ships." He waved, and two grim-faced men dragged Zheng Laohu away. "Make it quick—I can’t stand blood."
Zheng Laohu finally understood why Baldhead and Fei Ji had vanished. The boss was cleaning house—using Fang Zhiyi, this upstart, as his executioner!
"You’ll pay for this! You’re just a fall guy!" Zheng Laohu’s voice faded into the distance.
Fang Zhiyi blew a smoke ring. "In this life, who really comes out on top?"
Blindfolded, Zheng Laohu rode in silence, knowing his end was near.
"Boss, it’s done," Fang Zhiyi reported over the phone.
The man on the other end praised him before hanging up.
Fang Zhiyi studied the enforcers around him, then grinned. "Let’s grab a late-night bite. My treat!"
Midway through skewers and beer, one of his men took a call. After a few murmurs, he turned to Fang Zhiyi. "Brother Fang, those neighbors of yours still haven’t paid up."
Fang Zhiyi arched a brow and smirked at his crew. "Remember this: don’t wear pants too big for your ass, or you’ll embarrass yourself. If I catch any of you borrowing money on the side, I’ll break your arms myself."
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.
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."
] This is a dark fantasy-themed dating simulation game. The main gameplay involves containing various monster girls and investigating the truth of a world shrouded in mist alongside your companions. However, due to his love for the dark and bizarre atmosphere, Luo Wei ended up turning a dating game into a detective mystery game. Women? Women only slow down his quickdraw! To Luo Wei, the female leads in the game are more like tools to perfectly clear levels and squeeze out rewards. For Luo Wei, flirting with every girl he meets and then discarding them is standard procedure. Worried about characters losing affection points? No need. With his maxed-out charm stat, Luo Wei is practically a "human incubus." A little psychological manipulation and those points come right back. It's a bit scummy, but the paper cutout heroines in the game won't actually come at him with real cleavers. However... Luo Wei has transmigrated. He's accidentally entered the second playthrough of this game. His past actions have caused all the girls to transform into terrifying yanderes. Due to the game's setting, most of the heroines he once contained are "troubled girls." Obsessive, twisted, mentally unstable, all aggressive yanderes... The type who will kill you if they can't have you... Luo Wei wants to cry but has no tears left. "I really just want to survive..." In short, this is a story of battling wits and engaging in a love-hate relationship with yanderes.
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.”
