Two days later.
"Report! All the army commanders have arrived!" A personal guard, his face dripping with sweat, couldn't understand why the general had been acting so strangely lately—constantly pacing the courtyard, twisting his body, and occasionally bursting into laughter with his hands on his hips.
"Let them all in!"
"Aye!"
Soon, the courtyard was packed with people, some exchanging greetings.
"Wang Cai! Long time no see!"
"Li Ergou! Hahaha! You look sharp in that uniform!"
"Keep it down. I heard the old general passed away."
"What?!"
The courtyard fell dead silent. Dozens of commanders wore varying expressions, while only the few military governors at the front murmured among themselves.
Ahem. Fang Zhiyi emerged slowly, dressed in plain white mourning robes.
"Subordinates pay respects to the Young General!" The crowd saluted in unison. They were accustomed to calling the elder Fang "General," while Fang Zhiyi had always been referred to as the "Young General."
Fang Zhiyi waved weakly, his gaze drifting skyward as if lost in thought. After a long pause, a single tear rolled down his cheek.
The courtyard was so quiet you could hear a pin drop.
"My father is dead."
Those who had doubted the news now looked utterly stunned.
"General!" Many fell to their knees, weeping. These were soldiers who had followed the elder Fang into battle since their enlistment.
Fang Zhiyi was still building his performance. Trembling, he stretched out a hand toward them. "Many of you are older than me. By rights, I should call you uncles." This was true—when he first joined the military, these men had shared drinks and feasts with his father.
"Two days ago, I faced a dilemma I couldn't resolve alone. So, I ask for your counsel." He made as if to kneel, but the nearest military governors rushed forward to stop him.
"You mustn't, Young General!"
"Indeed! Just speak your mind. By rank, you outstrip us. By age, we are your elders. Nearly all of us were trained by the old general. Whatever you need, just say the word!"
Fang Zhiyi squeezed out another tear. "I received a secret report—my father was poisoned by the new emperor." He raised a thin sheet of paper. To forge this letter, he had spent over a day practicing left-handed calligraphy.
Yet no one stepped forward to examine it. Instead, they stared at him in shock.
Damn. Wasted effort. Fang Zhiyi kept his face impassive. "The poison was administered by a concubine in our household, but the order came from Liu Wenhui, the Minister of Revenue! Her father—and the emperor’s trusted confidant!" This wasn’t slander. Anyone could see it: who else would dare poison a duke?
Heavy breathing filled the courtyard.
"Now, my family summons me home. I fear if I go, I won’t return—unable to avenge my father or protect you, his old comrades." Fang Zhiyi emphasized old comrades deliberately. If the Northern Garrison’s leadership changed, most of Fang’s loyalists would be purged. To rally men, sentiment alone wasn’t enough—their fates had to be tied together.
One man suddenly stepped forward. "Goddamn it! We guard the frontier for him, and he repays us by murdering a hero?!"
"Brothers! Let’s escort the Young General back to the capital and demand answers from the emperor!"
"Agreed!"
"Stop!" A military governor raised his hand. "March to the capital? What about the border? If the barbarians attack? And if the emperor accuses the Young General of rebellion for bringing troops?"
Fang Zhiyi studied the five military governors—his father’s closest allies, men he privately called "uncles." In the original timeline, they had raised doubts, but the grief-stricken protagonist, obsessed with mourning and a transmigrated woman, had ignored them.
"Uncles, you may not know—the emperor’s officials are already spreading rumors of my treason." Fang Zhiyi closed his eyes, swaying slightly until someone steadied him. "Our Fang family served loyally for generations, only to end like hunted game."
"If I go, I won’t return." He sighed, glancing skyward while secretly scanning the crowd. He needed to identify his allies.
If this fails today, I’ll purge the ranks. This army must be mine.
Just then, a military governor yanked his saber free. "Screw this! Poisoning the old general proves the emperor’s rotten! Young General, don’t go back—let’s rebel!"
Silence. Then, seconds later—shing! shing!—more blades unsheathed.
"Rebel!"
"Rebel!"
Fang Zhiyi gaped at the furious commanders. He couldn’t squeeze out more tears. "Everyone... is this wise?"
"Perhaps I should return. With my family’s merits, I might beg the emperor to grant you titles and lands..."
A grizzled veteran stepped forward. "Young General, I started as a foot soldier under your father. He saved my life!" He stripped off his armor and undershirt, revealing a torso crisscrossed with scars.
"This arrow? The old general pushed me aside—it would’ve pierced my heart."
"This slash? See how shallow? The old general caught the blade bare-handed!"
Younger officers paled.
"Today, I, Wu Jue, swear this: if the emperor shows no mercy, neither will I! I’ll follow the Young General to the capital and ask that brat if he’s forgotten how his father won the throne—with our blood and steel!"
Perfect. Fang Zhiyi cheered inwardly.
Another bearded governor turned. "Seal the gates! Say we’re strategizing!"
Two commanders barred the exits.
Fang Zhiyi relaxed. The future looks bright. Beside him, his materializing system looked baffled.
"Why are humans so complicated?"
"You wouldn’t get it."
"Host, shouldn’t you return to the capital, secretly gather allies, and humiliate your enemies?"
"How much trash have you read?"
"Uh... other systems told me. I don’t read much."
Three days later, a group of several hundred, dressed as civilians, departed. Beyond the northern border, they dispersed, blending into the populace.
In the palace, Liu Guxia nestled against the new emperor.
"Do you think Fang Zhiyi will come back?"
"After your letter, of course. Though I hate to see you endure this." The emperor’s gaze softened with affection—then hardened. "Once the military is mine, you won’t need to placate him!"
Liu Guxia sighed. "You... I told you, he’s a good man. Don’t harm him."
The emperor sulked.
"They say emperors are heartless. You truly are."
"Very well, very well! I promise you, I shall not harm him. On the contrary, I shall appoint him to an official position so he may help me purge the court of these treacherous ministers and rebellious factions!"
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?"
transmigrates into the role of a villainous rich second-generation kid in an urban fantasy novel, and gets bound to a god-tier choice system. Right at the start, he catches the female lead stealing exam papers! This triggers the villain's choice options! [Choice 1: Pretend you didn't see anything] [Choice 2: Loudly call her out, drawing everyone's attention] [Choice 3: ...] And thus, a twisted villain is born. To avoid getting killed by the protagonist, he has no choice but to take down all the protagonists first. Jiang Che: Nobody understands being twisted better than me!
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."
