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!"
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...
pression Bureau] Transported to a fantasy world overrun by demons and monsters, Gu Qingfeng becomes a jailer in the Demon Suppression Prison of the Great Yan Dynasty's Demon Suppression Bureau. From this point on, bizarre cases frequently occur in the Demon Suppression Prison, once known as hell on earth and infamous for its gloomy, terrifying atmosphere! Why do the demons and monsters in the prison wail miserably every night? Why has the corpse demon, capable of transforming into various beauties, donned black stockings and switched careers to become a foot massage therapist? Why has the eye demon, expert in soul-snatching and illusions, turned into a VR headset? Why is the fox spirit performing otaku dances? Are all these occurrences a twisted expression of demonic nature, or a descent into moral depravity? After peeling away layer upon layer of mystery, all clues ultimately point to a jailer named Gu Qingfeng. Gu Qingfeng: "Hehehe... My dear demons and monsters, whose card shall we flip today?"
ing gift was a patch of barren land, and disciples were all picked up along the way. He spent fifty years diligently building three "ramshackle little sects," thinking he could finally live a carefree life relying on his disciples. But right at the fifty-year mark, he was suddenly swept away by a spatial rift and exiled to the Chaos Desolation, the Disorderly Ruins. There was no spiritual energy there, only slaughter. Relying on the cultivation feedback from his disciples, Gu Changyuan hacked his way through a sea of blood for eleven hundred years. When the system finally fished him back out, he discovered the ramshackle little sects he'd built back then had developed a rather... unusual style. Hold on... I vanished for a thousand years, so how did my ramshackle little sects become holy lands?!
