"You actually asked to die on your own." Little Hei muttered in a low voice.
Fang Zhiyi didn’t respond, lost in some memory.
"This world has some... unusual experiences." Little Hei continued.
Fang Zhiyi merely nodded.
When he woke again, he took in his surroundings—a tidy room. But when he tried to stand, he realized he couldn’t control his body!
Fang Zhiyi froze.
Little Hei’s voice echoed in his ears: "Your opponent is sharper than before. This was the only way."
The next moment, Fang Zhiyi felt his body move on its own.
"Fully automated?" He was stunned.
"Only one chance. Just one." Little Hei’s voice faded away.
"Damn bastard, couldn’t even explain properly," Fang Zhiyi cursed.
His body walked to the door and pushed it open.
"Greetings, Prince Huai!" A man waiting outside knelt on one knee, presenting a military report with both hands.
The body took the report and scanned it before nodding. "Good. At this pace, we’ll return victorious within a month."
Fang Zhiyi could only watch. He’d figured it out—he was inside someone else’s body, seeing what they saw but unable to control their actions.
The body’s owner stepped outside, only to be hesitantly stopped by an attendant.
"Prince Huai, there’s a letter from Princess Xialuo."
Prince Huai visibly brightened. "Bring it here!"
And so, Fang Zhiyi was forced to read the letter alongside him. It was filled with trivial matters—how much money she’d made selling soap, what fun things Feng Yusheng had taken her to do—and ended with her saying she missed him and hoped he’d return soon.
Fang Zhiyi sensed the original host’s emotions—a mix of joy and jealousy.
So this Prince Huai was in love with Princess Xialuo! Just then, Fang Zhiyi noticed a glow nearby. On instinct, he reached for it. The moment the thought crossed his mind, the light rushed toward him, and suddenly, he was flooded with Prince Huai’s memories.
This country was called Great Yan. Prince Huai was the Old Emperor’s adopted son, the child of his sworn brother. Simple-minded and raised on battlefields, the Old Emperor trusted him implicitly.
A year ago, rumors spread that the master of the Thousand Mechanisms Pavilion had appeared in the capital. Said to be a peerless strategist with vast influence in the martial world, this man—Feng Yusheng—became the most sought-after guest among the nobility.
Especially now, with the Old Emperor’s health failing and the princes’ infighting intensifying, Feng Yusheng’s intellect and connections became a crucial bargaining chip.
Fortunately, Prince Huai Fang Zhiyi had no interest in such games. He’d met Feng Yusheng a few times; the man seemed eager to befriend him, but Prince Huai kept their interactions casual.
The only person who truly occupied his thoughts was Princess Xialuo, his betrothed by imperial decree. Over a year ago, she’d nearly drowned and was revived by court physicians. After recovering, she was like a different person—no longer docile but climbing trees, sneaking onto rooftops, even disguising herself as a man to roam the streets.
Once, Prince Huai ran into her. She slapped his arm cheerfully, handed him a stick of candied hawthorn, then walked off laughing with Feng Yusheng.
Prince Huai pocketed the treat, too precious to eat, and watched his beloved stroll away with another man.
He was jealous but said nothing, silently trailing them.
"We’re just friends, Prince Huai. Don’t overthink it," Feng Yusheng had said.
"Arranged marriages are wrong! I have the right to chase happiness!" Princess Xialuo declared, waving her fist. "No matter what, you’ll always be my dear brother."
She tiptoed to boop his nose. Prince Huai stood frozen, staring at her playful grin before finally nodding.
If she wanted it, and he had it, it was hers.
From that day, Feng Yusheng seeped into his life. Even when Prince Huai tried to avoid him, Princess Xialuo was always there—and her presence alone made him happy.
He noticed Feng Yusheng’s disdain for the princes. Strangely, the strategist never hid it from him, often seeking his counsel instead. Though not particularly sharp, Prince Huai sensed he’d been dragged into something monumental.
Before this campaign, he’d gone to bid Princess Xialuo farewell—only to see her emerge from Feng Yusheng’s quarters, flushed and disheveled. Even from a distance, he recognized the silhouette behind the curtain.
Prince Huai chose not to dwell on it and led his troops to war. Today was the first letter he’d received from her since, leaving his heart in turmoil.
The memories ended there.
Fang Zhiyi rolled his eyes. "Another lovestruck fool."
Prince Huai stiffened, eyes sharpening as he scanned the area. "Who’s there?!" But there was no one—just two attendants in the distance.
Fang Zhiyi was stunned. Wait, he can hear me?
Testing, he said, "I’m here."
Prince Huai whirled around, suspicion in his gaze.
Fang Zhiyi grinned. So it works. This just got interesting.
He stayed silent. After a fruitless search, Prince Huai shook his head and strode from the commandeered courtyard. He needed to reach the front lines faster. The sooner victory came, the sooner he’d see Princess Xialuo again.
He’d tell her: as long as she was happy, he was happy.
With that resolve, even his usually disciplined Thunder Cavalry fought with uncharacteristic aggression.
Leading the charge, Prince Huai pursued fleeing enemies, determined to crush them completely. As the enemy cavalry vanished into a narrow pass, he barely hesitated before raising his hand to order the chase.
"Charge into this, and you’re dead," Fang Zhiyi sighed.
Prince Huai paused. That voice again—the one from days ago. He looked around but saw only his officers and soldiers.
"Stop looking. I am you," Fang Zhiyi lied smoothly.
Prince Huai absorbed this for a second, then exhaled.
"Wait, you just accepted that?!" Fang Zhiyi was floored.
Prince Huai murmured to himself, "I must’ve missed Luo Luo so much I’m hallucinating." He shook his head wryly and started to gesture forward.
"Go ahead. You won’t return, and your ‘Luo Luo’ will belong to someone else."
Prince Huai’s brow furrowed.
"Do it!" Fang Zhiyi urged.
"You... are really me?" Prince Huai asked. His bewildered lieutenant stared.
"Obviously. I’m the smart you. You’re the idiot."
Surprisingly, Prince Huai didn’t take offense. "What do you mean I won’t return?"
"Gods, do you even know warfare? Never chase a desperate enemy, and look at that terrain—any fool would set an ambush there!"
he colors of other people’s emotions. Light red meant anxiety. Gray meant exhaustion. Orange meant excitement. Yellow... meant repression. At the same time, he could gain unlimited control over one of those colors. Pale cyan: relaxation. Using this ability, he started offering “two-yuan hugs,” spending an afternoon exchanging emotional-color experiences with others. Then came his final female customer of the day— a girl whose emotional color was pure black... —— A week later, Xu Chuan had become skilled at using pale cyan—Relaxation—treating it like a bottle of menthol balm whenever he needed it. That was when he discovered he had unlocked another unlimited emotional color: Purple, the color of fear. So these emotional colors refresh every week? Fine, I take it back—I’ll never call you useless again... —— Much later, after Xu Chuan had accumulated countless emotional abilities, one night, he suddenly found himself inside someone else’s dream. There, he could use the emotional colors he possessed to paint. And in her dream, he painted her a shower of pink shooting stars, spreading across the depths of the night sky...
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?"
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."
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.
