"Damn, is the Heavenly Dao of this world so ruthless? Chasing me down with lightning?" This time, Fang Zhiyi didn’t even wait for Little Hei to speak before jumping into the vortex. Little Hei endured another bolt of heavenly lightning before swiftly following him inside.
"Occasionally it’s like this. Normal. Who knew the male lead would break down so easily?"
"Ah, seeing these kids suddenly makes me miss my old disciples." Fang Zhiyi crossed his arms behind his head.
Little Hei materialized a hand and extracted Fang Zhiyi’s emotions before sending them away.
"Time to work, time to work..." Fang Zhiyi let out a long sigh.
This world was a "group pampering" novel.
To put it simply, it was the story of a long-lost biological daughter, Bai An'an, who was discovered by her wealthy family and brought back to live a blissful life, while also putting a few arrogant antagonists in their place along the way.
But none of this had anything to do with Fang Zhiyi.
Because his story was a derivative one.
Bai An'an was protected by her family, and at school, she had her followers guarding her. The first was Murong Ke, a supporting male character with some underworld family ties, which shaped his fearless personality. After a few chance encounters and conflicts, Murong Ke inexplicably developed a crush on Bai An'an and began protecting her in secret.
Speaking of conflicts, Murong Ke was used to bullying classmates, and no one dared to speak up against him. Most students kept their distance, but he took particular pleasure in tormenting a few meek ones—among them a boy named Fang Yunhe. After bullying Fang Yunhe multiple times, Bai An'an happened to witness it and angrily scolded Murong Ke for his behavior. Finding her adorable, Murong Ke temporarily let Fang Yunhe off the hook.
That’s how the two met. Murong Ke frequently pestered Bai An'an, and she gradually accepted his presence. They often bickered playfully.
But Murong Ke never forgot the thrill of bullying. He continued tormenting Fang Yunhe, only now, Bai An'an would always coincidentally show up and loudly stop him. Her appearances inevitably drew a crowd, and Fang Yunhe only felt humiliated. His heart twisted with resentment.
The next time he was bullied, Fang Yunhe finally fought back for the first time—pulling out a hidden craft knife and lunging at Murong Ke. But Bai An'an happened to appear just then and rushed forward to intervene. Fang Yunhe, unable to react in time, accidentally slashed her hand. Enraged, Murong Ke beat Fang Yunhe mercilessly.
When the Bai family learned of the incident, they pressured the school into expelling Fang Yunhe for "bringing a weapon and harming a classmate."
Devastated, Fang Yunhe chose to jump from the school building.
His father, though furious, was powerless to do anything. One night, he drank a bottle of poison. Meanwhile, Bai An'an reconciled with Murong Ke after he gazed at her injured hand with remorse and confessed, "I just wanted your attention. I never meant for things to go this far."
A year later, Bai An'an brought Murong Ke to Fang Yunhe’s grave. Her voice was soft as a sigh: "Yunhe, I hope you can forgive him." Murong Ke gave a half-hearted bow and muttered, "Sorry." She immediately smiled in relief, as if she’d just completed an important social experiment.
Everything turned out beautifully—except for the dead Fang Yunhe.
His existence seemed solely to highlight Murong Ke’s redemption and Bai An'an’s kindness.
Aside from Murong Ke, there was another figure—Fang Yunhe’s older brother, Fang Yuntian. He was emotionally detached from his family and had a strained relationship with his younger brother. He blamed his father’s incompetence for limiting his own life and eventually ran away, cutting off almost all contact. When his brother and father died, he barely showed up. It wasn’t until after Bai An'an graduated that the two met in the coffee shop Fang Yuntian owned.
Only then did Fang Yuntian learn that this sweet-faced girl had known his brother—even seen him for the last time. But he hardly cared. That brother had never been close to him anyway, and besides, he was the one who pulled the knife and hurt Bai An'an. After so long, it was better to let it go.
Bai An'an rambled about Fang Yunhe being bullied, her tone casual as if discussing the weather: "He was too impulsive back then. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have..." Fang Yuntian stayed silent, thinking how kind this girl must be to still remember his brother after all this time.
Fang Yuntian became Bai An'an’s confidant, always there to listen—even after she married, he remained her silent guardian.
"...A bullied younger brother and a simp older brother? Is this girl some reincarnated fox spirit?" Fang Zhiyi asked.
"No, no, no. You think Bai An'an is the protagonist? Not at all."
"She’s like this and still not the protagonist?"
"The protagonist is her future daughter—a story about how she rises to the top thanks to the connections left behind by her late mother."
"Fck." Fang Zhiyi cursed. "Let me guess, I’m playing dad, aren’t I?"
"You’re getting smarter."
A bullied child always has family issues, and Fang Yunhe was no exception. He grew up without a mother, and after his older brother left, his father’s temper worsened.
His father had no stable job, loved gambling, and would curse when he lost. He was perpetually impatient with Fang Yunhe.
"If it weren’t for me raising you, you think you’d even get to go to school?"
"Why’s your face swollen? Don’t go causing trouble outside. I don’t have money to pay for your mess."
Growing up in such an environment, Fang Yunhe became introverted, insecure, and overly sensitive—unable to fight back, sealing his tragic fate.
Fang Zhiyi stared at the chaotic living room, then at his own disheveled reflection in the mirror.
"Little Hei, can I just beat myself up? What kind of mess is this?!"
"Not recommended. It’ll hurt." Little Hei paused. "Though, the original owner did end up pretty miserable too. He was also a father."
"Only remembers love after death, yet still too cowardly to stand up. What a joke." Fang Zhiyi scoffed.
"Plenty of people are like that..."
"Enough. Right now, I just wanna know—can you clean this place?" Fang Zhiyi demanded.
Little Hei barely hesitated: "Nope."
"Then shut up."
Fang Yunhe quietly dressed, planning to cook himself some noodles before school, when he spotted a figure hunched over, mopping the living room floor. He rubbed his eyes. A burglar? But what kind of thief breaks in just to clean?
Then—who was that?
Fang Zhiyi turned and saw the frail boy in his school uniform, frowning. "What are you staring at? Aren’t you going to school?"
Fang Yunhe lowered his head without a word. He knew it was best to stay silent around his father—otherwise, he might end up beaten, just like his older brother.
But the next moment, the mop Fang Zhiyi tossed aside still gave him a start. Fang Zhiyi went into the kitchen and came back with a bowl of noodles, slamming it heavily on the table. "Eat up, now!"
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."
transmigrates into the world as the sect master of the Heavenly Yan Sect, which is on the verge of being wiped out. He binds a system that grants him cultivation power based on the number of disciples he has: for each disciple, he automatically gains a year's worth of cultivation every single day! Take one disciple: every day he gains 1 year of cultivation power. While others struggle through a year of bitter training, he gets the same just by sleeping through a single night. Take ten disciples: every day he gains 10 years of cultivation power. Foundation Establishment, Core Formation, Nascent Soul—he breezes through all bottlenecks without lifting a finger. Take one hundred disciples: every day he gains 100 years of cultivation power. Even a Soul Transformation Venerable before him can’t survive a single blow. Take ten thousand disciples: every day he gains 10,000 years of cultivation power! With a wave of his hand, he topples empires. With a single step, he crushes the sacred grounds of the universe. ... While others fight tooth and nail for secret techniques, Lin Yan casually hands out Nascent Soul-level cultivation manuals as beginner textbooks. While others strain to find talented recruits, Lin Yan opens his doors to anyone—so long as they’re human. In just three short years, the Heavenly Yan Sect went from a backwater sect made up of three crumbling huts to a sacred land that every cultivator under heaven would kill to enter. ... One day, otherworldly demon gods invade, with a million demon soldiers pressing down upon the realm. Lin Yan, yawning, rises from his lounge chair and glances at the system panel: [Current Disciples: 1.28 million] [Daily Cultivation Increase: 1.28 million years] He waves his hand casually, and the countless demon soldiers are reduced to ashes in an instant. “So noisy… interrupting my fishing.”
m back to his original world. In the end, he realized he had overthought things. [Hey, why is Shen Manni, the female lead, acting strange? Shouldn't she be fawning over the male lead at this point?] [Zhou Qiaoqiao, are you sick? Weren't you supposed to break off your engagement today?] [Damn it! An Youyi, please do your job as an undercover agent and sell my information to the protagonist, you idiot!] ... At this moment, Xu Mo himself didn't know that these female leads had already heard his inner thoughts. Then they decided not to play by the rules. Xu Mo: Please respect my profession as the big villain!
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.
