The observing disciples exchanged glances, and eventually, a dozen or so stepped forward. Among them were a few who had met Fang Zhiyi before. They approached respectfully and said, "Congratulations on your successful seclusion, Master." However, their tone lacked any genuine emotion—it was almost perfunctory. Having arrived early, they were well aware that Master Qingxu rarely involved himself in affairs. The last time they saw him, he had merely nodded before retreating into seclusion again the very next day.
They held no expectations for this master. Everyone in the Xuantian Sect knew that unwanted disciples were all assigned to Master Qingxu, and Qingxu Peak had earned the mocking nickname "the scrap collection station."
The next moment, Fang Zhiyi raised his foot and kicked.
Jiang Leng staggered back two steps after the blow, momentarily stunned. Why had his master kicked him?
Then, several others beside him each received a kick as well.
"You newcomers might not know better, but I recall you few arrived earlier—supposedly senior disciples, hm?"
Jiang Leng gritted his teeth and nodded, though resentment simmered in his heart. Senior disciples? What a joke. With a master who was practically nonexistent, what use was there in such titles?
"If you're senior disciples, then how could you stand by and watch your junior sister get bullied like this? Are you fucking blind?"
The moment these words left his mouth, the entire crowd fell silent. First, it was nearly unheard of for the master of the "scrap collection station" to step forward at all. Second, since when did Master Qingxu curse so freely?
"Qingxu—" Elder Zhong attempted to intervene.
Fang Zhiyi waved a hand. "Shut up for now. Let me ask you—what are the duties of outer sect disciples?"
Elder Zhong hesitated briefly before answering, "Aside from cultivation, they handle miscellaneous tasks such as sweeping and laundry."
Fang Zhiyi sneered. "Oh? Then why is it only my Qingxu Peak disciples doing all the chores?"
Wasn’t it because you never cared about them? Elder Zhong grumbled inwardly, though he couldn’t say it outright. "Their cultivation schedule is more flexible, so they naturally take on more tasks. This was also tacitly approved by the sect leader."
"Fine! Next question—is drying medicinal herbs part of an outer sect disciple’s duties?"
Elder Zhong faltered. Tasks like drying herbs were usually handled by those who needed them. Still, he hadn’t bothered questioning it—after all, what did it matter if these "scraps" took care of it?
"Don’t tell me you’ve rewritten the Xuantian Sect’s rules while I was in seclusion?"
Fang Zhiyi pressed aggressively. Elder Zhong, aware of the watching disciples, felt his pride pricked. "Qingxu, as the elder of the Discipline Hall, I naturally act with discretion—"
"Discretion my ass!" Fang Zhiyi kicked over a nearby laundry basin. "This is blatant bullying! Humiliating my disciples is no different from slapping me in the face! Or have you forgotten? If not for me back then, Elder Zhong, you wouldn’t be standing here either!"
Wasn’t that precisely why you were still allowed to keep a peak? Elder Zhong’s expression darkened, finally deciding to discard any pretense of courtesy. "Qingxu, though they are your disciples, they remain under the outer sect’s jurisdiction. If they err, it’s the Discipline Hall’s duty to handle it. As their master, you should stay on Qingxu Peak." After all, you’re only making a show of this. Once you retreat into seclusion again—your foundation already ruined—what then?
"Oh?" Fang Zhiyi stared at him. In the next instant, spiritual energy erupted from his body.
Elder Zhong was forced back a step by the shockwave, his face twisting in shock. "You—you’ve repaired your foundation?"
Fang Zhiyi glared. "None of your damn business." He cleared his throat. "From today onward, the cultivation of Qingxu Peak’s disciples will be personally arranged by me. That means—they won’t have time for chores. Understood?"
Elder Zhong wanted to argue, but the sheer pressure radiating from Fang Zhiyi left him shaken. Not only had Qingxu regained his former strength—he had surpassed it. His spiritual energy now eclipsed even Elder Zhong’s early-stage Nascent Soul cultivation.
Fang Zhiyi glanced at Shen Xiaoxiao, who was still staring at him dazedly, and frowned. "Get up."
Shen Xiaoxiao scrambled to her feet.
He then turned to Shen Wanwan, whose face was pale with unease. How could this be? Her senior brother had assured her that Master Qingxu was nothing more than a figurehead. Why had he suddenly appeared? And why did he seem to care so much about disciples he’d never even met?
"How she hit you—hit her back."
Shen Xiaoxiao froze.
Fang Zhiyi urged impatiently, "As my disciple, you don’t swallow this kind of humiliation. If you hesitate, then stay here."
Shen Xiaoxiao looked at Shen Wanwan, whose eyes flickered with fear, resentment, and lingering disdain. She didn’t believe Shen Xiaoxiao would dare.
"Qingxu, this is against the rules," Elder Zhong interjected.
Fang Zhiyi ignored him, instead channeling more spiritual energy. His aura surged—Mid-stage Nascent Soul, Late-stage, Peak Nascent Soul!
This—how was this possible? Maybe I should try severing my meridians too?
Fang Zhiyi understood the laws of the cultivation world all too well. Rules and regulations? They only bound the weak. Strength was the only true law. Sure enough, Elder Zhong fell silent.
"Think about what she did to you," Fang Zhiyi said, eyeing Shen Xiaoxiao. "Whether you want to change or remain worthless—it’s your choice."
He turned to leave, counting silently in his head—one, two, three—then heard a sharp smack.
Shen Wanwan clutched her cheek, staring in disbelief at the lowly maid before her. Fury flooded her mind, and she raised a hand to retaliate—only for her senior brother to grab her wrist.
"Don’t, Junior Sister. Her master is still here..." He wasn’t stupid. The spiritual pressure emanating from Master Qingxu was more terrifying than even their own master’s.
Shen Wanwan regained her senses, shooting a venomous glare at Shen Xiaoxiao, who looked equally stunned. She stared at her own palm, unable to believe she’d actually struck Shen Wanwan.
"Waiting for lunch?" Fang Zhiyi called. "Let’s go!"
As he led his disciples away, the crowd collectively exhaled in relief.
"Damn, Master Qingxu is that strong?"
"That aura—I’d say it rivals the sect leader’s."
"Didn’t you see? Even Elder Zhong didn’t dare speak."
"Nothing better to do? Still gathered here?" Elder Zhong’s face was stormy as he dispersed the onlookers. He glanced at Shen Wanwan, then at Fang Zhiyi’s retreating figure, before hurrying off—he needed to report this to the sect leader immediately.
Qingxu hadn’t just restored his foundation—he’d reached Peak Nascent Soul!
Surveying the dilapidated state of Qingxu Peak, Fang Zhiyi sighed and turned to his dust-covered disciples.
"You had time to scrub floors and wash clothes for others, but couldn’t bother cleaning your own home?" Though the original owner’s negligence had led to this, Fang Zhiyi wasn’t about to take the blame—that was Qingxu’s doing, not his. Best to strike first.
The disciples, still reeling from witnessing their master defend Shen Xiaoxiao, remained dazed.
Jiang Leng, however, was quick-witted. "Start cleaning!"
Only then did the disciples scatter to tidy up. Fang Zhiyi watched them with folded arms, sighing inwardly.
Looks like I’m stuck playing babysitter again.
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?!
lanned to earn money steadily and take life at a slower pace. But he never expected... his father's remarriage, and the stepmother bringing along a dependent, would completely disrupt his life's plans...
] [Lone Wolf, No Male Gaze] [Protagonist is pursued early on; extreme protagonist-stans, stay away!] The "Carnival Paradise" descends and slowly devours the real world in the form of a game. By chance, Zhu Yan awakens the talent [Roleplay], becoming one of the first beta players. He thought he could develop safely, but after clearing the first instance, he is branded by humanity as the chief culprit behind the game's spread—a traitorous villain. A villain? Who would ever... become one! He'll be the villain! From then on, Zhu Yan is not only a player but also a lackey for the Carnival Paradise. Between the straight path and the crooked path, he chooses the con. With his left hand, he dons the villain's mantle, staging scenes within instances, infuriating players who decry him as a despicable traitor, all while the game happily promotes him. With his right hand, he joins the non-human organization "Fangcun Mountain," which opposes the Carnival Paradise, transforming into a mysterious player who slaughters game bosses, earning cheers of "Long live the expert!" from fellow players. Gradually, Zhu Yan rises to become an S-rank human player in Fangcun Mountain's archives, while also being the Carnival Paradise's certified top game Boss. But when the final war erupts and both major factions place their hopes in him— Players tag his various aliases: "Experts, this offensive depends on you." The Carnival Paradise's supreme Boss throws an arm around his neck: "Bro, you're the iron, I'm the steel; you can't let me down again!"
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!
