Fang Zhiyi opened his eyes to find himself gripping a sharp knife, the man before him glaring with fury.
"You little bastard, you dare stab me? Your whore of a mother deserved to die!"
Fang Zhiyi froze, his mind stuttering as a flood of dark memories surged into his consciousness.
Yes, his name was Fang Zhiyi. He had lost his father young and lived with his mother. The man before him was his stepfather, who had taken them in only to reveal his true nature soon after.
Drunkenness and domestic violence were routine. He had even forced Fang Zhiyi’s mother into prostitution to pay "rent," and Fang Zhiyi himself was no stranger to beatings.
On the day Fang Zhiyi came of age, his mother had saved up to buy him a small cake—a rare luxury in the Wasteland, where bakeries existed only in the wealthy districts.
But that same night, his drunken stepfather attacked her again. Fang Zhiyi mustered the courage to push open the door, only to find his mother’s lifeless eyes staring blankly, her blood staining the corner of a table, while his stepfather snored loudly on the bed nearby.
Huddled in the living room, Fang Zhiyi knew she was gone. Slowly, fear gave way to rage. He grabbed a knife from the kitchen, and as he stepped inside, his stepfather jolted awake. With no escape, Fang Zhiyi seized a chair and struck him down.
Now, he stood ready to end the monster’s life.
Meeting his stepfather’s mocking gaze, Fang Zhiyi’s eyes turned icy. He thrust the blade forward.
The wet sound of steel piercing flesh filled the air. His stepfather’s eyes widened in disbelief—this cowardly bastard had actually done it.
Fang Zhiyi drove the knife deeper until the man lay still. Rising slowly, he turned to the cracked mirror on the wall. The pale figure staring back—was that really him? For a fleeting moment, he thought he saw another version of himself, but it vanished in a blink.
Sirens wailed outside. The Wasteland’s police were worse than thugs. Glancing at the two corpses, Fang Zhiyi made his decision. He emptied his stepfather’s pockets, then struggled to lift his mother’s body and slipped out through the fire escape.
The Wasteland’s sky was perpetually gray, as murky as the city’s darkness.
After burying his mother hastily, Fang Zhiyi realized he had nowhere to go. He would never return to that "home."
Rumors said the Lower District was where people like him belonged. Fang Zhiyi decided to try his luck there.
Maybe he’d survive.
Passing a secondhand electronics store, a crowd had gathered around a TV displayed near the entrance.
"After deliberation, the Wasteland Court has ruled Mr. Wu not guilty of rape. He is released today." The screen showed a man in a fur coat, flamboyantly waving at the camera.
Bystanders muttered curses under their breath. Fang Zhiyi felt a surge of disgust as he watched.
A little farther, and he’d reach the Lower District. Here, streetlights were mostly broken, and the roads were potholed. Fang Zhiyi trudged forward blindly, unsure of his destination but knowing he had to keep moving.
Could he leave the Wasteland? No—his mother had told him it was vast, nearly impossible to escape.
"Hey, kid. You’re not from the Lower District, are you?" A voice cut through the darkness. Fang Zhiyi turned numbly, spotting only the glow of a cigarette in the shadows.
"What, mute? Got any money?"
Fang Zhiyi pressed his lips together. "No."
He tried to walk away, but the man and his companions blocked him. "This is my turf, kid. Gotta pay a toll to pass."
Fang Zhiyi clenched his fists. He refused to be bullied anymore. He had nothing left to lose.
"Meng Luo, when are you paying me back?" Another voice interrupted. The man gripping Fang Zhiyi’s collar tensed, suddenly wary.
Seizing the moment, Fang Zhiyi swung. His punch landed squarely, sending the man stumbling back. Fang Zhiyi bolted, but before the thug could give chase, his creditor stopped him.
After running endlessly, Fang Zhiyi was hopelessly lost. Then, a hand yanked him into a narrow alley.
Instinctively, he raised his fist—but stopped just short of striking. Under the dim light of the alley, a freckled girl in a hoodie glared at him.
This was how he met Mia.
She led him to her home—a repurposed sewer, littered with scattered electronic parts. Fang Zhiyi stared blankly at the mess.
"I scavenge these," Mia explained. "Don’t judge. I’m good with machines." She paused. "I saw what you did back there. Hitting Meng Luo? Bold."
Fang Zhiyi stayed silent. His mind was a whirlwind, flashes of unfamiliar memories flickering behind his eyes. As he clutched his head, Mia shrugged. "Rest here tonight. But fair warning—I saved you ‘cause I need help." She turned, only to find Fang Zhiyi already collapsed on the ground.
"Out cold already?"
The next morning, Fang Zhiyi woke with an aching back and a throbbing head.
He’d dreamed of a monstrous black mass enveloping him, surrounded by twisted landscapes—before being violently hurled to the ground.
Rubbing his temples, he took in the cluttered space and the worn blanket draped over him, recalling the previous night’s events.
"You’re up? Since you slept here, you’re on the hook for helping. No backing out." Mia sat cross-legged on a rickety chair.
Fang Zhiyi nodded, studying her. She wore black-framed glasses, the arms clumsily taped, and fiddled with some gadget in her hands.
Once she noticed he was awake, Mia launched into chatter—mostly nonsense, as if she’d been starved for conversation.
Fang Zhiyi listened quietly, plagued by the sense he’d forgotten something vital.
"Aren’t you afraid I’m dangerous?" he suddenly asked.
Mia blinked, sizing him up. "You talk?" She set down her project, hopping off the chair to scrutinize him. "Dangerous? Hah! I’ve met plenty of real bad guys. You? Not even close."
Mia’s "job" involved hauling discarded electronics—work too heavy for her alone.
Fang Zhiyi didn’t complain. This girl had given him shelter and canned food. The cans were rusted, the contents barely edible, but they filled his stomach.
ng to die together with you." Lin Xuan is dead, his body thrown into the river by his scumbag lover and her accomplice. She, the president of the Su Group, is decisive, ruthless, and ice-cold. For three days and three nights, she had his body fished out of the river, and without hesitation, she kissed the bloated corpse of Lin Xuan. She laid down beside him in a cold coffin, their fingers intertwined, a smile lingering on her lips as she closed her eyes. The noble and cold-hearted woman, only bending for one man—Lin Xuan. Lin Xuan, with his golden finger, is reborn and returns to the day of his wedding to the treacherous woman. Su Qiang comes to steal the bride. Lin Xuan's eyes light up, eager to pledge his loyalty on the spot, but instead, her kiss transfers a glass of drugged wine into his mouth, causing him to pass out... 【Male Protagonist with Single Female Lead】【Yandere Tycoon】【Action-Packed】【True vs. Fake Heir】
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."
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.
