Fang Zhiyi scoffed: "Though I'd love to see you embarrass yourself, I should remind you—it's impossible under current conditions."
Yet Wen Yan remained undeterred. She rushed home and began experimenting, while the Wen Elderly Couple let her indulge her whims.
"Wood ash... waste oil..."
As Fang Zhiyi watched her stir wood ash into a pot of water, he sighed inwardly. In his previous world, he'd observed Duchess Charlotte's soap-making process—her setup had been far more advanced.
True to his prediction, after hours of labor, Wen Yan ended up with a pot of black, sticky sludge. Fang Zhiyi didn’t bother hiding his mockery, which crushed her spirit. "How did this happen?"
"Where did you dig up this half-baked method? Wood ash lacks sufficient concentration, and temperature control is crucial. How could you manage that here?"
"If you knew, why didn’t you say so earlier?" Wen Yan snapped.
Fang Zhiyi shrugged. "Please. You wouldn’t have listened until you hit a wall."
Wen Yan’s face darkened, and the Wen Elderly Couple’s expressions grew even grimmer.
Realizing her blunder, Wen Yan retreated to bed early, while Fang Zhiyi flew off to spy on the other transmigrator.
Sun Yuwei, radiant and busy tending to her fish, caught his eye. His gaze flicked to her bracelet—in his vision, it emitted a faint blue glow.
The next morning, Wen Yan numbly shouldered her farming tools, despair creeping in. Had she crossed worlds just to toil? Why did Sun Yuwei get everything she wanted?
Fang Zhiyi suddenly asked, "What exactly did you learn in school?"
Wen Yan answered reflexively, "Farming. The teachers gave us experimental plots to cultivate..." Then it hit her. "Right! Scientific farming!" Her eyes darted around as she muttered to herself.
"High-density planting for higher yields," she decided, recalling theoretical knowledge from her teachers.
Fearing she’d actually go through with it, Fang Zhiyi warned, "Given the current social and soil conditions, overcrowding will deplete fertility and invite pests."
Defeated, Wen Yan threw down her tools. "Useless. All of it."
Fang Zhiyi chuckled. "Useless? What you just discarded is incredibly useful."
Picking up the tools, Wen Yan stared blankly, his words echoing: Incredibly useful.
"Got it! Improve the tools!"
Fang Zhiyi stayed silent.
This world was simple—just keep the rival female character from stirring trouble. As for the protagonist, Sun Yuwei could do as she pleased. Avoid her, and all would be fine.
Enthusiastically, Wen Yan began modifying farm tools. The Wen Elderly Couple exchanged uneasy glances. Their daughter had been acting strangely lately—was she possessed?
She’d considered avoiding Sun Yuwei, but the latter loved flaunting her success. After earning money from selling smoked fish, Sun Yuwei bought a donkey cart and deliberately passed through Linshui Village. Wen Yan, sweating in the fields, glared as Sun Yuwei shot her a taunting look.
Children in the cart softly called, "Auntie," but Sun Yuwei cut them off.
"What auntie? Has she ever cared for you? Ignore her. She’s doomed to dig dirt forever."
Hearing this blatant insult, Wen Yan sprang up, ready to retaliate, but Fang Zhiyi intervened: "Hold back. Just hold back."
Remembering her past life’s grievances, Wen Yan clenched her jaw and turned away.
Sun Yuwei rode off triumphantly.
"Xiao Hei, did you send me here to suffer? No physical form, no special abilities?" Fang Zhiyi muttered, unsure where "Xiao Hei" even was. But asking couldn’t hurt.
After a long pause, a dull voice replied, "I can grant you one thing."
"Where?" Fang Zhiyi scanned the area but saw nothing.
"Approach the female protagonist, and everything will become ‘real.’"
Baffled, Fang Zhiyi wondered, What nonsense is this? Am I makeup remover now?
"What’s ‘real’ supposed to mean?"
"Think of it as... a drug that nullifies the protagonist’s halo?" Xiao Hei’s voice faded.
Just then, the clear sky darkened. Thunder rumbled as villagers scurried home. Fang Zhiyi glimpsed something massive dart behind the clouds.
Wen Yan slumped in frustration. Every improvement she envisioned required blacksmithing or carpentry skills she lacked. After hours of effort, she’d only managed a lengthened sickle.
Wen's Father initially dismissed it, but Wen Yan demonstrated its efficiency—harvesting with calculated force. Gradually, his eyes lit up. "You know, this actually saves effort. We’ll use it during harvest."
Heartened by his approval, Wen Yan beamed. For once, she’d done something worthwhile. "It’s not just for harvesting—weeding too!"
"Really?" Wen's Father grinned, examining the long sickle.
"Well?" Wen Yan asked Fang Zhiyi excitedly. "In a few days, Dad will visit the blacksmith to try my designs—a step plow (a V-shaped iron blade attached to a wooden handle and pedal, tripling tilling efficiency) and a seed drill (a funnel-toothed plow that sows and covers seeds in one pass, multiplying planting speed)."
Fang Zhiyi smirked. "Not bad. Your education wasn’t wasted."
Wen Yan flushed. She’d studied these tools at a school exhibition out of curiosity—never imagining they’d prove useful.
Meanwhile, Sun Yuwei smoked more fish, eager to amass capital. Villagers grew suspicious—why could she catch fish effortlessly while others found nothing?
She smirked at their envy. The river was barren; these fish came from her spatial ring. Next, she’d invest in spiced delicacies.
Fang Zhiyi observed from afar, then left.
An idea struck him.
"Rice crisps?" Wen Yan blinked. "What’s that?"
"Think puffed snacks."
Her eyes widened. "Can we make them?" The soap fiasco had shaken her confidence.
Fang Zhiyi scoffed. "Drop the doubt. Are you underestimating this system?"
"...A little."
"Watch your tone!"
"But we barely have rice here..."
"It’s just a name. Wheat works too—and it’s cheaper." Fang Zhiyi had already researched: millet dominated here, but wheat existed. Wen Yan’s first-day noodles were wheat-based.
Under his guidance, Wen Yan gathered broken wheat, ground it into flour, kneaded it with water, and cut the dough into drying cubes.
Seeing all this, the Wen Elderly Couple grew worried once more, even considering seeking someone to take a look. Fortunately, Wen Yan had already learned how to soothe them, temporarily calming the elderly pair.

and couldn't return to the real world. Finally, I gave up and decided to go with the flow, only to discover that writing a diary could make me stronger. Since no one could read it, Su Luo wrote freely, daring to pen anything and everything. Female Lead #1: "Not bad. This diary helped me steal all the protagonist's opportunities. I just want to get stronger." Female Lead #2: "I don’t care about reaching the peak of the cultivation world. Right now, I just want to enjoy the chaos." Female Lead #3: "What? Everyone around me is a spy? I’m the Joker Demon Lord?" ... It’s so strange. Why is the plot completely off track, yet the ending remains the same? Are you all just messing with me?!

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?!

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!

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?"