Martial Uncle took them down the mountain to buy supplies. Thirty li to the west, there was a market where Martial Uncle personally ordered new Taoist robes for each of them—even the "old stick-in-the-mud" he often complained about got a set.
After arranging the robes, Martial Uncle had Second Senior Brother set up a small stall. Chewing on a candied hawthorn stick, Jiang Mubai eyed the sign that read "Better Than Immortals" and thought Martial Uncle might be pushing his luck a bit too far.
He watched as customers came and went before Martial Uncle, with Second Senior Brother handling the payments. Jiang Mubai noticed something interesting—every time a customer handed over money, Second Senior Brother’s eyes would crinkle into delighted slits, a far cry from his usual demeanor.
Jiang Mubai wasn’t stupid. After observing for a while, he concluded one thing: Martial Uncle was outright scamming people. Sure enough, when they packed up, he sneaked a peek at the divination sticks and randomly pulled out a few—all of them were auspicious.
When questioned, Martial Uncle scoffed, "Who can really tell fortunes? That’d be asking for a lightning strike!" Then he added, "Most of these people come seeking answers because they’re troubled. Even if we can’t solve their problems, lifting their spirits is worth a few coins."
Jiang Mubai noticed Second Senior Brother nodding vigorously in agreement.
By the time the three of them returned to White Cloud Temple, Master was already seated in the courtyard, his expression stormy. Before Second Senior Brother could step forward, Master barked, "Kneel!"
Second Senior Brother pouted but dropped to his knees. Jiang Mubai lowered his head and followed suit, certain that Martial Uncle’s antics had been exposed.
Martial Uncle frowned at Master, their gazes practically sparking with tension.
Suddenly, Martial Uncle reached behind his back.
Master stood up just as quickly—only for Martial Uncle to burst into theatrical wails.
"Masteraaa! Open your eyes and see! Your eldest disciple is making me kneel! He’s trying to demote me a whole generation!"
Jiang Mubai peeked up to see Master’s face twitching, his lips trembling before he finally managed, "I didn’t tell you to kneel."
"Then why the shouting? Huh? We’re so poor even the rats moved out, and you’re mad we tried to earn some coin? Last time, you said I could take charge!"
That only made Master’s expression darken further. "Then why did you steal a woodcutter’s load of firewood?"
Jiang Mubai blinked. So Wang Laosan hadn’t tattled to Master?
"He cursed at me at our gate and even tried to hit me! Was making him compensate with a bundle of firewood too much?"
Jiang Mubai marveled silently at Martial Uncle’s talent for bald-faced lies.
"You—!" Master was fuming. "He’d never dare strike you! You’re utterly lawless!"
But Martial Uncle brandished an ancestral tablet like a shield. "Go on, then! Kill me!"
Master stormed off in a swirl of sleeves.
Eldest Senior Brother stood frozen, lost in thought. Jiang Mubai felt Martial Uncle tug his arm. "Up." He nudged Second Senior Brother with his foot. "You too. We didn’t do anything wrong—no need to grovel."
He said it loud enough for Master to hear.
"Half a century alive, and still doesn’t get that kindness invites bullying," Martial Uncle muttered.
Jiang Mubai hesitated, glancing at Eldest Senior Brother. Though a man of few words, he’d always been the most protective of the two younger disciples. After a moment, Eldest Senior Brother gave a slight nod, and Jiang Mubai rose.
Remembering something, he pulled an oil-paper package from his robe. "Eldest Senior Brother, I brought this for you and Master."
"Oooh, I brought this for you and Master," Martial Uncle mimicked in a singsong voice, strutting toward his room. Second Senior Brother trailed behind, copying him. "So touching~"
Jiang Mubai’s face burned. Second Senior Brother had taught him one thing: virtue takes years to learn, but mischief takes days. Then he caught it—the faintest quirk of Eldest Senior Brother’s lips before his usual stoicism returned.
Had he just… smiled? A rare sight indeed.
Dinner that night was lavish, thanks to their market haul. When Jiang Mubai moved to fetch Master, Martial Uncle stopped him.
"Leave him. He’ll come when he’s done sulking."
"What if he doesn’t?"
"Then he’ll get hungry. Practicing Daoism doesn’t make him an actual immortal—saving the world, wandering the land, pah!" Martial Uncle sounded so certain, as if he really could predict the future.
Jiang Mubai wondered what history lay between Martial Uncle and Master.
But watching Second Senior Brother’s exaggerated head-shaking and Eldest Senior Brother’s quiet chewing, he swallowed the question.
That night, Jiang Mubai slept soundly for the first time in days. At dawn, he found Master already in the courtyard. When Master turned, his usually immaculate hair was disheveled, his face wearing an expression Jiang Mubai had never seen—some mix of dread and… relief?
Master approached, scrutinized him, opened his mouth as if to speak, then simply patted his head.
At breakfast, everyone was present. Martial Uncle looked smug.
Master kept glancing—at Eldest Senior Brother, then Second Senior Brother, then Jiang Mubai.
After the meal, Master called Martial Uncle into his room. Jiang Mubai caught snippets like "the Patriarch’s spirit manifested," but their voices stayed hushed until noon when they emerged.
Master then sat cross-legged before the crumbling statue, staring blankly at the worn prayer mat.
Martial Uncle called it "brooding."
Jiang Mubai felt guilty. Their actions had caused the rift between Master and Martial Uncle, leaving Master upset. But when he tried to apologize, Eldest Senior Brother blocked him.
"Little Brother, Master said he needs solitude. For now, we follow Martial Uncle’s lead."
Jiang Mubai gaped. If not for Eldest Senior Brother’s rigid honesty, he’d suspect an imposter.
Without further explanation, Eldest Senior Brother bowed to Martial Uncle, who was lounging with one leg over the other. "Martial Uncle, we were meant to visit Zhang Village. Master said you’re in charge now."
Martial Uncle blinked, scratching his head. "That old fox really washed his hands of this, huh!"
Grudgingly, he agreed—and insisted all three disciples accompany him. Jiang Mubai was puzzled; he’d be little help.
"But Master alone—"
"He’s got limbs, hasn’t he? Won’t starve." Martial Uncle’s tone brooked no argument. Seeing even Eldest Senior Brother nod, Jiang Mubai dropped his gaze.
On their way out, a villager came begging for herbs. Eldest Senior Brother turned to fetch them, but Martial Uncle blocked the path.
Hand on hip, he thrust out his palm. "Herbs cost money!"
Jiang Mubai glanced at Eldest Senior Brother, whose usually impassive face registered shock. Second Senior Brother, though, seemed as resigned as Jiang Mubai felt.
"Martial Uncle, they’re just herbs. Surely—"
young master of the Shen family—a figure of immense power and wealth beyond measure—and awakened the "Destined Ultimate Villain System"! His starting scenario? Running into his icy fiancée who shows up with a mountain-descending divine doctor to break off their engagement. The divine doctor arrogantly taunts: "What does your Shen family have besides a bit of stinking money? You're not even worthy of tying Qingxue's shoelaces!" Shen Fei just smiled. He completely defied the usual script: "Fine, I agree to break off the engagement. Also, notify the finance department to withdraw all investments from the Su family." Minutes later, with its capital chain severed, the Su Group teetered on the brink of bankruptcy! The once aloof and proud ice queen CEO was thrown into utter panic. That very night, she went to Shen Fei's villa, casting aside all dignity to beg and plead desperately... From then on, in this world teeming with Sons of Destiny, Shen Fei embarked on a path of extreme dimensional suppression! A mountain-descending divine doctor? Peerless medical skills? Shen Fei: "Reporting you for practicing medicine without a license! I'll gladly take your ancient medicinal cauldron and twin sister assassins." The Crooked-Smiling Dragon King? Commanding a hundred thousand soldiers with a single order? Shen Fei: "Illegal assembly and suspected treason! Let a fleet of attack helicopters sanitize the area and teach you what the state apparatus really means!" A reborn tycoon? Knows all the golden opportunities of the next decade? Shen Fei: "A trillion in capital to reverse and pump the stock market, making you blow your margin and jump on the very first day of your rebirth!" What Chosen Ones? What bearers of Heavenly Fortune? In Shen Fei's eyes, they're all just chives (i.e., suckers/marks) waiting to be harvested! Shen Fei: "Sorry, but as the Destined Ultimate Villain, I don't play by the rules of honor. I only play the game of dimensional suppression."
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?"
