Watching Wen Yan struggle to carry in a bucket of sand and thoughtlessly pour it into the pot, Wen's Father closed his eyes.
As the firewood gradually burned, Wen Yan began stirring the sand with an iron shovel. After heating it, she buried chunks of dough inside.
"What a waste!" Wen's Mother couldn't sit still any longer. "You reckless child, how could you waste food like this?"
Wen Yan quickly tried to calm her. "Mother, just wait a little longer. If I’m really wasting food, you can punish me however you want!"
Wen's Mother wasn’t convinced, but fortunately, Wen's Father spotted the long-handled sickle leaning against the wall. He stood up and pulled his wife back. "Let’s wait and see."
Truthfully, Wen Yan wasn’t entirely sure either—this was the system’s idea, and that system had never been reliable.
After a while, she cautiously used the shovel to uncover the dough in the sand. Pieces of it emerged, and Wen Yan excitedly reached in to grab one.
"Hey—?" Fang Zhiyi didn’t have time to stop her.
"Ouch! That’s hot!" Wen Yan shook her hand, and the dough chunk fell to the ground, shattering into several pieces. Wen's Father immediately stepped forward, carefully picking them up with an expression of disbelief. He blew on one piece and popped a small bit into his mouth.
"Mmm! Delicious! And crispy! Wife, come try this!"
Wen's Mother was skeptical but took a piece and chewed. "How does it feel bigger somehow?"
"It expands under heat... Never mind, you wouldn’t understand. Just wait." Wen Yan carefully removed the rest of the dough from the pot, blew off the sand, and sprinkled some coarse salt over them.
"Try it now."
"Mmm! Even better!" Wen's Father was enthusiastically supportive. Wen Yan also took a piece and stuffed it into her mouth, her face lighting up with joy. This was the first snack she’d had since arriving in this world!
Though it couldn’t compare to the puffed snacks from her own time—not even one-fifth as good—it was still a rare treat.
Watching her parents enjoy the snack, Wen Yan got an idea. "Father, Mother, I want to sell these at the market."
Wen's Mother wanted to object, but Wen's Father raised an eyebrow. "Good! I’ll go with you!"
Wen Yan calculated the costs. "We’ll probably need to buy some broken wheat from the villagers." She paused. "Ten coppers per pound. I can make five portions from one pound and sell each for five coppers..."
Wen's Mother’s eyes gleamed. "So that’s fifteen coppers profit per pound? Not bad at all."
Fang Zhiyi watched them discuss this, itching to remind them they hadn’t accounted for labor or firewood costs. But after a moment’s thought, he decided to let it go.
Soon, market day arrived. The day before, Wen Yan had prepared a large batch of her invention, "Crispy Rice Blocks," with Wen's Father’s help—otherwise, her arms would’ve given out.
They secured a spot early, but before long, an unwelcome voice sounded nearby.
"Well, well, look who’s here. Given up farming to play merchant?"
Wen Yan rolled her eyes and turned to see Sun Yuwei.
Sun Yuwei pushed a newly built wooden cart with her eldest son in tow. She glanced disdainfully at the Wen family’s stall and curled her lip.
Wen's Father’s face darkened as he considered moving, but Fang Zhiyi suddenly spoke up to stop him.
Following Fang Zhiyi’s advice, Wen Yan held her father back, though she also felt a bit resentful toward this "fellow traveler."
"Perfect timing. I’ve been meaning to test what Xiao Hei meant by ‘reality.’"
While Sun Yuwei openly provoked them, the Wen family stayed silent. Thankfully, Wen's Mother wasn’t there, or the day would’ve started with a shouting match instead of sales.
The market grew busier as people from nearby villages—even some from the county town—flocked in.
"What’s this?" someone asked curiously, eyeing Wen Yan’s goods.
Wen Yan beamed. "Would you like to try? It’s called Crispy—"
Suddenly, a rich aroma wafted over. Sun Yuwei’s loud voice cut through the air. "Sun’s Braised Delicacies! Come take a look, come try some! Sun’s Braised Delicacies!"
The smell instantly drew a crowd, and even the potential customer who had been asking about Wen Yan’s snack turned away. Sun Yuwei shot her a smug look from afar. Wen Yan’s face fell—but then she noticed her system floating toward Sun Yuwei’s stall.
Traitor!
"Smells amazing!"
"Can we sample it?"
Sun Yuwei waved a hand. "Try before you buy!"
The crowd buzzed with excitement. Fang Zhiyi hovered above her stall, waiting, but nothing unusual happened—just endless praise for the food.
"That damn Xiao Hei, lying to me?" Fang Zhiyi muttered. Then he noticed one person in the crowd tasting a sample, their expression shifting before they quickly slipped away.
"Hmm? Looks like there’s a show coming."
Wen Yan sighed, occasionally glancing at her system. Seeing it just hovering there, dumbstruck, made her a little sad. Meanwhile, Wen's Father had stormed off in frustration to wander elsewhere.
"Make way! Make way!" Shouts rang out as the crowd around Sun Yuwei’s stall scattered. A group of constables rushed forward, their leader stopping in front of her cart, eyes closed as he inhaled deeply.
Sun Yuwei was thrilled—she’d been hoping for official connections, and here was her chance!
"Sir, care for a taste? Sun’s Braised Delicacies, absolutely authentic!"
But the constable’s eyes snapped open. "Arrest them!"
Sun Yuwei froze. Her son gaped as the constables seized them both.
"What’s the meaning of this? I’ve done nothing wrong!" Sun Yuwei panicked as they started pushing her cart away.
The constable sneered. "Nothing wrong? By the laws of Great Qi, spices are exclusively supplied to the court! Only officials of the seventh rank or higher may use them. Civilians caught with them are violating the law! And your spices here are quite the collection! Take them away!"
Fang Zhiyi understood now—this was what Xiao Hei meant by "reality." He’d forgotten: in this era, commoners had no access to spices!
The would-be customers shuddered in relief, but one turned and noticed Wen Yan standing there, stunned. "What are you selling?"
Wen Yan stammered, "I—I sell Crispy... Rice Blocks."
"Looks odd. Can I try?"
"Y-yes, of course." Wen Yan watched the officials disappear into the distance, suddenly realizing that time travel wasn’t as glamorous as she’d imagined.
When Wen's Father returned to the stall, he was shocked to find a crowd buying his daughter’s Crispy Rice Blocks! He hurried over to help, and by midday, they’d sold out. Regretfully, he wished they’d bought more surplus grain—if only they hadn’t listened to his wife’s cautious advice!
Still, they’d made a tidy profit. The two happily bought some supplies and headed home.
Wen's Mother’s face lit up when she saw them return with so many goods. Hearing about Sun Yuwei’s arrest, she spat in satisfaction. "Serves her right!"
The family enjoyed a warm meal together. Wen Yan glanced up at her system and silently mouthed, "Thank you." She had a feeling today’s events were connected to it.

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.

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...

uld barely embark on the path to immortality. Just as he was on the verge of death, his golden finger awakened. No matter whether it was poison, drained blood and vital energy, diminished lifespan, or any other physical debuff caused by paying a price—once midnight passed, everything would be refreshed. From then on, whenever someone asked what kind of person Chu Ran was, the answer was simple: Forbidden arts that other cultivators dared not learn? Chu Ran would learn them. Prices that even demonic cultivators dared not pay? Chu Ran would pay them. Lifespan that even righteous cultivators dared not burn? Chu Ran would burn it. All the blood essence in his body? Take it. Want both his hands and feet? He would cut them off and send them to you. You say he’s finished? He wasn’t built to sit idle. You think he’s gone mad? No—he was simply waiting for midnight. From that day onward, Chu Ran would respect neither Heaven nor Earth, bow to neither gods nor ghosts. He had only one wish: For midnight to arrive a little sooner.