Master Uncle 01

Fang Zhiyi had passed away peacefully.

At this moment, he was floating in the air, looking down at his own funeral.

"Has the thing you were waiting for still not appeared?"

Little Hei shook its head. "It's done."

"When?"

Little Hei extended a tentacle from its body, rummaged around inside, and pulled out a round machine.

"This is..." Fang Zhiyi leaned in for a closer look.

"A rebirth system... extracted from your eldest grandson."

"What?" Fang Zhiyi was shocked.

"Don’t worry, he’s fine. Because of your interference, the system never had a chance to activate."

Fang Zhiyi gazed at the now-grown child for a moment. "That’s good."

"By the way, about what you mentioned earlier, I’ve thought of a solution," Little Hei said.

"What thing... Hey—?" Before Fang Zhiyi could finish, Little Hei’s tentacle plunged directly into his mind. He felt his emotions and attachments to this world gradually fade away. Moments later, the tentacle withdrew.

"You..."

"I’ve packed up your emotions and memories of this world and sent them back into your body. It’s a bit troublesome... but at least you won’t complain anymore." Little Hei seemed quite pleased with itself.

"......" Fang Zhiyi fell silent for a while. "Next time, can you use a different method? I really don’t like that tentacle of yours."

"Sure! Claws, hooves, hands, feet—take your pick!"

"Get lost."

This world was called the Great Wilderness.

The emperor was tyrannical, demons and evil spirits roamed freely, and the imperial court was too weak to govern.

Xuan Chen was a poor wandering cultivator. During his travels, he took in an orphan who only knew his father’s surname was Li. The child had no name, so Xuan Chen named him Buyan, making him his first disciple.

Thus, the two began their journey together.

Over time, Li Buyan became capable of handling many tasks for Xuan Chen. However, due to Xuan Chen’s relentless dedication to helping others, they often struggled to make ends meet. Yet Li Buyan never complained.

After all, without his master, he would have died long ago.

While passing through a village ravaged by bandits, Xuan Chen picked up his second disciple, Zhao Yichen. Realizing that wandering endlessly with two disciples wasn’t sustainable, Xuan Chen found a dilapidated Taoist temple, and the three of them settled there.

The temple gradually regained some life, though few visitors came. Xuan Chen remained steadfast in his mission to aid the world, frequently leaving to exorcise evil spirits and demons. Sometimes, he returned with food or a few coins.

During one such exorcism, Xuan Chen found Jiang Mubai, his youngest disciple.

In truth, Xuan Chen harbored a secret—his past. His master had been a wicked cultivator named Jiang Yun, who had bought him from human traffickers. Initially meant to serve as a mere laborer, Xuan Chen’s talent was accidentally discovered, and he was taken in as a disciple. Yet, Xuan Chen’s heart leaned toward goodness, a trait even his master couldn’t suppress. Eventually, Jiang Yun gave up and left him be. After his master’s death, Xuan Chen left that place and chose the path of saving others.

Xuan Chen was rigid and upright, and his disciples inherited his principles.

Li Buyan was the most extreme. He often gave away medicinal herbs to villagers and shared his meager meals with beggars, even if it meant going hungry himself.

One year, a famine struck the villages outside the mountains. When a desperate villager came pleading for help, Xuan Chen immediately opened the temple’s long-stored grain vat—a reward from a wealthy family he had exorcised for—and distributed every last bit. The four of them nearly starved to death afterward.

A wandering cultivator once passed by, claiming to have suffered a calamity. Without questioning the obvious holes in his story, they gave him all their saved silver.

The White Cloud Temple had a sterling reputation—at least, in their own eyes. To others, they were nothing but laughable pushovers, hopeless do-gooders. Xuan Chen paid no mind to such mockery. To him, this was how a true cultivator should be.

He taught his disciples: "Everyone faces hardship. What I cultivate in you is your heart. Never lose your kindness over trivial gains or losses."

Though their lives were humble, they were peaceful. The rumors outside the temple gates were easy to ignore once the doors were shut.

But one day, a visitor arrived—a young cultivator named Li Jia, who asked to stay for a while. Xuan Chen had no reason to refuse and warmly accommodated him.

This stay brought disaster.

First, Li Buyan noticed Li Jia wandering around the temple for no reason. Though suspicious, he dismissed it. Then, Xuan Chen discovered his room had been rummaged through. With only the four of them in the temple, the culprit was obvious. Yet Xuan Chen still said nothing, instead gently asking Li Jia if he was facing difficulties.

Li Jia spoke of cultivation struggles, and Xuan Chen, taking his words to heart, spent hours discussing cultivation with him, growing even more trusting.

So when Li Jia proposed holding a blessing ritual for the villagers at the mountain’s foot, Xuan Chen agreed without hesitation.

The four of them accompanied Li Jia to the village and even helped set up the ritual array—until black smoke erupted from it. By then, it was too late. The morning’s porridge had been poisoned with a venomous gu, and the four collapsed, paralyzed.

Xuan Chen couldn’t comprehend why Li Jia would harm them for no reason. Li Jia burst into laughter. "Wicked cultivator! Did you think pretending to be good would fool me? My name isn’t Li Jia—it’s Xiao Yunche!" He threw something to the ground. "Pity your master is already dead, but don’t worry. I’ve already killed your junior brother. You’ll join him soon enough!" It was the ear of Xuan Chen’s junior brother.

Instead of killing them outright, Xiao Yunche roused the villagers. Seeing the twisted faces of the four and the sinister black smoke from the array, they were horrified—these "evil cultivators" had hidden their true nature so well!

Soon, every misfortune in the village—the sudden deaths of livestock, missing chickens, children dying of illness—was blamed on them. Unable to speak, the four stared in disbelief at the villagers, their once-familiar faces now twisted with hatred.

"They’ve brought this upon themselves—corrupted by their own evil!" Xiao Yunche declared. Some villagers bowed to him in gratitude, and he reveled in the moment, watching the four struggle. "If you want to blame anyone, blame your master in the afterlife."

Xiao Yunche’s fame soared for "eradicating the wicked Jiang Yun’s lineage," and soon, powerful factions extended offers, propelling him onto a glorious path.

"They died justly," Fang Zhiyi remarked. "There’s something off about this Xiao Yunche, isn’t there?" He had noticed a faint light being absorbed from the four into Xiao Yunche’s body.

"Indeed. This kid is bound to a system, though he doesn’t realize it. He thinks it’s some divine artifact."

Fang Zhiyi nodded. "Who am I?"

Little Hei swayed slightly and said, "You are Xuan Chen's junior brother."

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