One day, he visited their home and went straight into Old Lady Zhang’s room, only to find her lying stiff on the bed, her eyes wide open, her face deathly pale, and her chest completely still. Terrified, he let out a scream and practically scrambled out of that low, cramped room on all fours. When the Zhang brothers rushed over upon hearing the commotion and asked what had happened, Zhang Fugui pointed at the room, unable to form a coherent sentence. But the next moment, Old Lady Zhang walked out.
Her eerie smile and hollow, unblinking stare remained the same.
Zhang Fugui, overcome with fear, hurried back home and immediately fell seriously ill. He recalled hearing about the White Cloud Temple and sent his son to seek help from Taoist Priest Xuanchen. Unexpectedly, it was the priest’s junior brother who arrived.
"It’s only been a few days, but their eldest son and his wife are already dead. The second son’s leg was crushed by a falling tree, and his wife, terrified, took their child back to her parents’ home..." Zhang Fugui rambled on. "If you’d come any later, I fear..."
Jiang Mubai watched as his senior uncle waved a hand dismissively. "As long as the payment is good, anything can be handled! Don’t you worry!"
Thank goodness the master hadn’t come—otherwise, they might’ve had to chip in extra.
Zhang Fugui knocked on Old Lady Zhang’s door, but there was no response for a long time.
"No way... Could it be...?" Zhang Fugui grew nervous and knocked harder.
Jiang Mubai stared anxiously at the wooden doors. The next moment, they creaked open, revealing a haggard face peering out warily. "What do you want?"
Zhang Fugui exhaled in relief. "Fourth Zhang, open up. I’ve brought a master from the White Cloud Temple to help you."
"What master? We don’t need one! Get lost!" Fourth Zhang snapped rudely and slammed the door shut.
"Ah? Oh no, oh no—he must be possessed!" Zhang Fugui paced frantically before turning to Fang Zhiyi for help.
From behind the door, Fourth Zhang’s cursing voice rang out. "Scram! Trying to swindle us out of money? Not a chance! Nosy old fool."
Jiang Mubai saw his senior uncle turn to them. "Remember what I taught you? ‘When a man is near death, his words are kind.’"
The second senior brother answered first. "Yes, Uncle. Beat a man half to death, and his words will naturally become pleasant."
"Then what are we waiting for? We took the money—now we do the job."
Jiang Mubai watched as the second senior brother kicked the door. To his surprise, the man had already embraced his role wholeheartedly. A startled scream came from inside, followed by the door bursting open. The second senior brother leaped in, and soon after, a series of howls erupted.
"Taoist Master, this..." Zhang Fugui stammered in shock.
The senior uncle reassured him. "Don’t worry. He’s possessed. This is an exorcism."
At these words, Zhang Fugui and the gathered villagers nodded in understanding.
Moments later, the second senior brother stuck his head out, smoothing back his disheveled hair. "Uncle, it’s about done."
Jiang Mubai followed his senior uncle into the courtyard. The moment he stepped inside, he sensed something strange. Just as he was about to speak, the first senior brother’s hand landed on his shoulder. Jiang Mubai turned and saw him shake his head slightly.
Two coffins lay in the courtyard.
The senior uncle strode forward to inspect them, ignoring the groaning man on the ground.
Then he motioned for Jiang Mubai to come closer. When he looked inside, his heart nearly stopped.
Both corpses had their eyes wide open, their bodies slit open from the neck down, their chests and abdomens hollowed out.
"Legends say man-eating ghosts prefer children—tender meat. For adults, they eat the organs because the flesh is tough," the senior uncle explained calmly. "And they only feast on their own kin."
But his gaze remained fixed on the groaning Fourth Zhang.
"Which room is Old Lady Zhang’s?" the senior uncle asked.
Zhang Fugui quickly pointed to a corner of the courtyard—a low, gloomy shack that looked more like a woodshed.
Jiang Mubai didn’t dare follow. He watched as his senior uncle and the two senior brothers entered. Soon, they emerged—the senior uncle deep in thought, the first senior brother as composed as ever, and the second senior brother looking queasy.
The senior uncle then slung an arm over Zhang Fugui’s shoulder, bending slightly to match his height.
"Elder Zhang, if I solve this, the payment stands, right?"
Zhang Fugui blinked, then nodded. "Of course."
The senior uncle smiled in satisfaction. "Good."
Jiang Mubai saw him whisper something to the two senior brothers, who then began darting around the courtyard. "Uncle, what should I do?" he asked.
"You? Just observe." The senior uncle noticed Fourth Zhang struggling to get up and promptly kicked him back down.
Before long, the second senior brother returned, tossing a hatchet and rope onto the ground with a dull thud.
The villagers craned their necks to watch.
"Ahem." The senior uncle cleared his throat. "Good folks, the matter is now clear. There’s no evil spirit—it was all this man’s doing." He pointed at Fourth Zhang, still sprawled on the ground.
"What?!"
Even Jiang Mubai was stunned.
The first senior brother reappeared, dragging a bound man behind him.
"Uncle, found him."
"Isn’t that Third Zhang? What’s going on?" a villager gasped.
Third Zhang stared blankly at the crowd before his eyes landed on Fourth Zhang. His expression twisted with fury as Li Buyan yanked the rag from his mouth.
"You damn Fourth! Brothers for life, and you tried to kill me too? You rotten bastard! I’ll curse you to hell!"
The crowd erupted in shock.
Amid Third Zhang’s furious tirade, the truth slowly unraveled.
Contrary to the villagers’ perception, the Zhang sons were far from filial. Once Old Lady Zhang grew too old to work, her sons wished for her death and banished her to the woodshed. Yet she still held some wealth, forcing them to keep her around—none dared suggest dividing the family, fearing they’d be stuck caring for her while others took the money. So they waited, locked in a stalemate.
She had died... and then come back to life.
When their chickens were found dead, Fourth Zhang didn’t care—just beasts prowling near their isolated home.
But after hearing tales of the "old demon" while gambling in town, the debt-ridden Fourth Zhang hatched a plan.
He began spreading rumors of the old demon in the village. Then he sold his eldest brother’s daughter to traffickers, disguising it as a disappearance. But Third Zhang discovered his crime.
Instead of stopping him, Third Zhang blackmailed him, and the two conspired to kill the eldest brother and his wife. They tried to make the second brother’s death look like an accident, but he survived with only a broken leg.
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.
't think I'm that capable, I'm just trying my best to stay alive. I've been kind all my life, never did anything bad, yet worldly suffering spared me not one bit. The human world is a nice place, but I won't come back in my next life. A kind young man, who wanted to just get by singing, but through repeated deceits and betrayals, has gone down an irredeemable path.
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."
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.
