Prince Huai remained Prince Huai—simple-minded, but after beginning to associate with other women, he became unrestrained. Now, he felt his past self had been far too narrow-minded.
Meanwhile, under Feng Yusheng's schemes, the Third Prince was exposed. He was implicated in a severe smuggling case, enraging the Old Emperor, who ordered his own son imprisoned for investigation. In an instant, the contenders for the throne were reduced to just the Second Prince and the Fourth Prince, both secretly vying for power. Today, one would seek Master Feng’s advice to outmaneuver the other; tomorrow, the other would beg Master Feng for a solution.
Feng Yusheng’s status rose even higher.
"What’s so great about being emperor?" Prince Huai muttered.
Fang Zhiyi chuckled. "Nothing great, indeed. But everyone in this world covets that position." He teased, "Don’t you want it? With a single word, you could have Princess Xialuo."
Prince Huai shook his head. "No, I’d rather focus on warfare. And being a 'war wolf'!"
"Aren’t you afraid that if the Second or Fourth Prince ascends, you’re finished?"
"Isn’t that what you’re here for?" Prince Huai’s words stunned Fang Zhiyi. Good heavens—was he being treated as some kind of cheat code?
Under Fang Zhiyi’s guidance, Prince Huai now played along perfectly. Whenever Princess Xialuo summoned him, he went, behaving exactly as he had before—fawning over her as if it were practice. But thanks to his natural disposition, both Princess Xialuo and her system were thoroughly satisfied.
However, the system scanned him every time they met, leaving Fang Zhiyi holding his breath. He had a growing suspicion that this system was far more perceptive than the box-like ones he’d encountered before—this one took the form of an eyeball. Fortunately, he knew its greatest weakness: while it could monitor multiple targets simultaneously, Prince Huai’s pathetic devotion made him worthless in its eyes. At Xia Luo’s request, the eyeball focused its surveillance on the other princes and her so-called "rivals."
On the day of Xu Man'er’s execution, Fang Zhiyi suddenly instructed Prince Huai to station more hidden guards around the execution grounds. Though puzzled, Prince Huai obeyed, sensing his other self wouldn’t miss this.
Sure enough, at the moment of execution, seven or eight martial arts masters leaped from the crowd, attempting a prison break.
They were promptly turned into pincushions by a hail of arrows.
When Feng Yusheng received the news, he spat blood, his old illness flaring up. Xia Luo was heartbroken, but the system informed her she lacked the points to exchange for a universal cure. All she could do was feed him a basic healing pill and wait.
But Fang Zhiyi had no intention of letting them rest. He had already pieced together the world’s general landscape and the state of the Great Yan Dynasty. The Old Emperor was paranoid and utterly incompetent, his three remaining princes all schemers. Only the Deposed Crown Prince seemed decent, but his meek nature had cost him the throne—he stood no chance now.
Through eavesdropping on Xia Luo and her system, Fang Zhiyi also uncovered Feng Yusheng’s identity: likely the sole survivor of a family exterminated by imperial decree, now disguised and plotting revenge.
With his objectives clear, Fang Zhiyi struck without mercy. Following his instructions, Prince Huai "accidentally" let slip a rumor while drunk—conveniently within earshot of several ministers loyal to the Deposed Crown Prince.
Watching the old men scurry off, Prince Huai asked, "Will they really submit memorials?"
"They will. With the Crown Prince gone, if they don’t act, they’re finished too. Such is the game of power," Fang Zhiyi replied.
Prince Huai shook his head, baffled.
In the palace, the Old Emperor’s eyes bulged as he read the secret memorial.
A moment later, he slammed his palm on the desk.
"'He who holds Feng Yusheng holds the empire'? Hah! Is this Feng Yusheng’s empire or mine?"
The eunuch who delivered the memorial whispered, "Your Majesty, preserve your health. These are but baseless rumors among the rabble."
"Baseless?" The Old Emperor’s paranoia flared as he glared at the eunuch who had served him for years. "I find the memorial’s proposal quite sound. Outlaws daring to storm an execution? Is this their empire or mine?"
The eunuch dropped to his knees, trembling. "This servant only wishes for Your Majesty’s well-being!"
"Rise. I do not blame you. Summon the commander of the Moon-Seeking Bureau."
"Yes." The eunuch bowed and left. Soon, the commander arrived, and the eunuch discreetly turned to exit—only for a sword to pierce his back.
The eunuch gasped in disbelief. The Old Emperor’s eyes were icy. "Were you too a mole planted by the Thousand Mechanisms Pavilion?"
As the eunuch collapsed, the commander remained silent. He knew his role as the emperor’s hound: obey without question.
The Old Emperor burned the memorial over a candle, his decision made.
That night, the capital descended into chaos. The Moon-Seeking Bureau conducted door-to-door searches, arresting countless martial artists who had taken refuge in the city, cramming them into prisons by dawn.
Xia Luo got wind of it first—her system had been monitoring the Old Emperor. She immediately warned Feng Yusheng, who fled overnight without packing.
The Thousand Mechanisms Pavilion had a sizable hideout in the capital, but when the Moon-Seeking Bureau arrived, they chose to resist. They forgot that while the Bureau was merely a spy agency, it had the city patrol’s soldiers at its back.
Though lacking martial skills, the soldiers had crossbows and endless reinforcements. One by one, the Pavilion’s masters were executed on the spot. They were only human—blades dulled, energy waned. Surrender or die.
The purge spread from the capital across Great Yan, stirring every dormant Moon-Seeking agent into action.
The Thousand Mechanisms Pavilion wasn’t the only casualty—other martial factions suffered collateral damage, breeding resentment. Even within the Pavilion, branches began to grumble. Life had been easy under its banner, but now they faced the state’s wrath. Their vaunted intelligence network lay in ruins. A lone master facing even a small troop? At best, severe injury; at worst, surrender or death.
Within six months, the Pavilion was in shambles. Only the Old Pavilion Master’s intervention stabilized the situation. He disowned Feng Yusheng and submitted a list of names to the court in submission, barely halting the bloodshed.
But Feng Yusheng was left in dire straits. Without the Pavilion, he was powerless—no matter his cunning, he had no means to act. Worse, the Moon-Seeking Bureau still hunted him.
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, 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?"
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.
