Fang Zhiyi received no news. Little Hei remained a round ball, seemingly still affected by that heavenly lightning strike. Fang Zhiyi didn’t disturb it.
However, while heading to the martial arts school to teach his students, Fang Zhiyi noticed an old man standing at the entrance.
"Looking for someone? Or here to apply for a job?" Fang Zhiyi didn’t dare underestimate elderly figures—in this world of martial arts, age didn’t equate to weakness.
The old man didn’t speak, only turning to stare fixedly at him.
A strange, indescribable sensation instantly flooded Fang Zhiyi’s entire being.
"An enemy? An assassin?" Countless thoughts flashed through his mind. Just as he prepared to act, the old man abruptly turned and walked away, his steps resolute.
Fang Zhiyi stood frozen for a moment. Old Lan happened to emerge with a few students and, seeing his expression, asked, "Headmaster? What’s wrong?"
Fang Zhiyi glanced at them, then pointed behind him. "That old man just now—huh?" In the brief moment he turned his head, the old man had vanished.
Old Lan looked around. "What old man?"
Fang Zhiyi shook his head. "Never mind. By the way, tighten security around the school."
Old Lan, maintaining his old habit from his days as a gatekeeper, didn’t ask why—he simply nodded in acknowledgment.
Meanwhile, Lin Muran, relying on his memories, sought out the sects he had controlled in his past life. But none of them acknowledged him. Enraged, he chose to slaughter his way through, venting his resentment.
Through sheer brutality, Lin Muran managed to seize control of a few sects. He had already learned of Fang Zhiyi’s activities and realized his own mistake—this Fang Zhiyi was likely a transmigrator like himself!
The thought only fueled his fury.
Why was Fang Zhiyi allowed to run businesses and schools while he had suffered so much?
Blinded by hatred, Lin Muran couldn’t wait another moment. He gathered his lackeys and marched toward Yang City.
At the same time, Laughing Maitreya’s spies relayed the news to Fang Zhiyi.
"Let him come." Fang Zhiyi’s restaurant was opening today, and he was swamped with work.
Yang City, being the headquarters of Shunfeng Express and home to the martial arts school, had expanded significantly. The streets were far more bustling than before.
Standing outside the city gates with his ragtag followers, Lin Muran took in the sight of the prosperous city, his hatred undisguised.
"Fang Zhiyi! Come out and die!" He was utterly confident. Fang Zhiyi was merely a former left envoy of the demonic sect—after transmigrating, he had probably spent his time dabbling in business. But Lin Muran had endured torment for so long! Now, armed with peerless martial prowess, Fang Zhiyi stood no chance against him.
His voice, infused with inner energy, carried far and wide.
Lin Muran had no patience for a slow search. Along the way, he had come to a realization—since fate had dealt him such a cruel hand, he might as well embrace villainy. The more wicked, the better!
Soon, clamor arose at the city gates.
Lin Muran sneered at the swarming crowd.
When martial arts masters appeared atop the city walls, he felt a hint of pressure.
Then came the sound of hoofbeats behind him.
Lin Muran turned to see a cloud of dust in the distance. As the riders drew closer, their banners became visible.
"Thousand Mechanisms Pavilion." "Hidden Sword Sect." "Five Immortals Sect." "Moonlit Tower."
The elite factions of the martial world had all mobilized!
"Calling for reinforcements?" Lin Muran was first stunned, then his expression twisted into madness.
"Let’s see what else you’ve got!" Without hesitation, he charged toward them, while the crowd at the gates surged forward as well.
Watching the chaos below, Fang Zhiyi finally made his appearance.
Lin Muran, having just knocked back two masters with a single palm strike, seemed to sense something. He looked up, locking eyes with Fang Zhiyi across the distance. Seeing the undisguised disdain and contempt on Fang Zhiyi’s face, Lin Muran went berserk, hacking his way toward the gates.
"See that? What’s the use of martial prowess?" Fang Zhiyi remarked. "A top-tier expert can fight a hundred men, but what about more than a hundred? Blades dull, swords chip, inner energy depletes. The martial world… heh."
The graduates behind him nodded in agreement.
"Why are these people helping us?" Fang Zhiyi quizzed.
Jiang Rou, now dressed more maturely, answered promptly, "Because they all rely on us—Shunfeng delivers their goods, sells their wares, sends their children to our school for training. Some factions even recruit our graduates. Many of them hold shares in Shunfeng." Her eyes brimmed with confidence. "Also, they’ve already signed profit-sharing agreements for the new restaurant."
"The martial world isn’t just about fighting and killing. It’s about human connections, mutual interests. Battles are fought for profit, and profit can be as sharp as any blade." Fang Zhiyi sighed softly. "Consider this your final lesson." The students bowed in respect.
As his words faded, Lin Muran collapsed beneath the city gates. Gritting his teeth, he glared up at Fang Zhiyi, who looked down at him in turn.
This stallion had finally reached his end.
Fang Zhiyi lifted his head. No thunder struck.
With the chaos over, the sects that had submitted to Lin Muran’s tyranny surrendered. Uncharacteristically, Fang Zhiyi didn’t extort them—he simply let them leave. Meanwhile, he arranged for the factions who had aided him to be properly hosted.
He felt exhausted.
As he walked alone toward the outskirts, intending to visit the old campus of Youzhou Martial School, the strange old man reappeared.
But he looked far more aged than before, his face deeply wrinkled. His expression remained blank as he stared fixedly at Fang Zhiyi. That hollow gaze inexplicably unsettled Fang Zhiyi.
Truth be told, after experiencing so many worlds, Fang Zhiyi had long forgotten what fear felt like. The memories of those worlds were etched vividly in his mind—every person he had ever met still whispering in his thoughts, leaving his emotions numb and distant.
Yet this old man before him evoked a long-lost sense of unease.
"Which sect’s master are you?" Fang Zhiyi halted and demanded.
The old man didn’t speak.
Fang Zhiyi scrutinized him closely. Something was off—terribly off.
This old man seemed… lifeless.
Testing the waters, Fang Zhiyi took a step back. The old man didn’t move. Fang Zhiyi turned and bolted. The old man simply stood there, watching him flee with that same hollow stare.
It was a holiday. Aside from He Wugui on duty, everyone else had gone into the city. Seeing Fang Zhiyi arrive, He Wugui grinned, tossed him the gatekeeping duties, and slipped away. He hadn’t seen Mei Ruoxue in ages—last time, he had wanted to adopt her as his granddaughter, but Fang Zhiyi had sternly refused. Not for any particular reason—Fang Zhiyi simply suspected He Wugui was trying to pull rank on him.
Walking through the empty martial arts school, Fang Zhiyi couldn’t help but recall his first day here.
His thoughts drifted far back—to the loyal eunuch who had served him when he was emperor, the carefree monarch who had delegated everything to him, his Daoist companion from the cultivation world…
Until, before the preserved bamboo grove, that familiar figure appeared once more.
The wrinkled old man stood there, staring straight at Fang Zhiyi.
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.
. As long as he maintains the villain image and follows the plot to the grand finale, he can obtain generous rewards and return to the real world. So Gu Chen'an entered the role and began to act as a scumbag villain, but who would have expected that the female leads could hear his inner thoughts. Miss Su from the Su family was shocked: "I originally thought Gu Chen'an was a scumbag, but I didn't expect he turned out to be a gentleman! What? You said I have to call off the engagement? I definitely won't, I'll piss you off!" Bai Yuan Tian was dumbfounded: "Young Master Gu is usually unreasonable and a complete brat, but he actually calls me little sweetie in his heart? What, Young Master Gu even said he likes me?" As the female leads' images collapsed more and more, the plot also collapsed with it. Gu Chen'an looked at all this chaos. "Ladies, don't aggro me, if you keep this up the male lead really will stab me, I still need to survive to the grand finale!"
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?
ial death, also known as "shè sǐ" in Chinese, generally refers to... well, never mind, it's not important. My name is Ye Cheng, and I'm about to experience social death firsthand. ... 【Host, your mission is to confess your love to the young lady of the Dongfang family, the current student council president, in a way that will be unforgettable for everyone at the freshman ceremony!】 【Host, assist the girl with a sprained ankle in front of you to reach the infirmary, and fulfill the wicked thoughts in your heart!】 【Host, act on your desires and punish the arrogant young lady before you mercilessly!】 【Host, follow your instincts—abandon shameful surrender, begging, or groveling, and ruthlessly criticize the domineering, ill-mannered young lady in front of you!】 【Host...】 Ye Cheng: "Here, here, you take this host role—I quit!" Wait, why is the girl with a sprained ankle the daughter of a mafia boss? And what kind of punishment method is this for the arrogant young lady? Also, who the heck said anything about wicked thoughts in my heart? Come out here, let’s settle this one-on-one!!! ... The haughty student council president, the scheming mafia princess, the fragile yandere young lady, the airheaded maid-in-waiting, the mixed-blood loli/...
