Lin Zhiyang looked up in astonishment—seeking a sparring match with an alchemist? Was this person insane? Which alchemist would ever agree to such a thing... But when he got a clear look at the person before him, he nearly burst out laughing. Wasn’t this Jiang Leng, Qingxu Peak’s most notorious good-for-nothing? Rumor had it their master had emerged from seclusion, even reaching the peak of the Nascent Soul stage, but this trash hadn’t improved one bit.
“A sparring match? You? Get lost.”
Jiang Leng hesitated, then glanced back to see his junior disciples watching nervously behind him.
Lin Zhiyang never expected what happened next—Jiang Leng suddenly flung a bowl of water straight into his face, catching him completely off guard.
Jiang Leng stammered, “W-will you spar with me or not?”
Rage surged in Lin Zhiyang’s heart. Though alchemists lacked combat prowess, they weren’t punching bags for trash like this!
“You’re asking for death!”
The match began right outside the door. When had Lin Zhiyang ever suffered such humiliation? But once it started, Jiang Leng didn’t attack—instead, he assumed a defensive stance. Lin Zhiyang almost laughed in frustration. What kind of joke was this?
He struck immediately, but Jiang Leng dodged left and right, occasionally failing to evade and taking hits on his arms or back.
The watching disciples cheered—it was their first time seeing an alchemist fight, and Jiang Leng’s incompetence was on full display.
Lin Zhiyang felt smug, but when his gaze swept over the Qingxu Peak disciples, something felt off. They showed no shame or anger—instead, they kept nodding approvingly.
Even Jiang Leng wore an expression of sudden enlightenment. Lin Zhiyang realized he’d acted impulsively. Wasting time on these losers was beneath him, so he decided to end it quickly. With one strike, Jiang Leng was sent flying, blood spraying from his mouth.
Lin Zhiyang cursed a few times and left with a swagger.
But that very same day, Qingxu Zhenren came knocking.
The Alchemy Peak’s master didn’t dare offend him, so he summoned Lin Zhiyang for a token scolding: “Why did you go so hard in a sparring match?” Though resentful, Lin Zhiyang could only listen obediently.
Fang Zhiyi smiled. “Disciples sparring—just a trivial matter. I can’t possibly hold it against them.”
The Alchemy Peak’s master sighed in relief, already planning to offer some recovery pills to send him away.
“So, I’ll spar with you instead.”
“What?”
The next day, news spread that the Alchemy Peak’s master had been beaten up by Qingxu Zhenren. Though also a Nascent Soul cultivator, he lasted only one move before being sent flying. After that... it was pure beating. Fang Zhiyi didn’t even use spiritual energy—just his fists.
The damage was minor, but the humiliation was immense.
The most absurd part? Afterward, Fang Zhiyi bowed politely, said “I concede,” then pulled out paper and demanded compensation for his disciple’s medical expenses.
No one knew what happened afterward—perhaps those who did were silenced.
Fang Zhiyi triumphantly pocketed the IOU, carrying a sack of pills back to Qingxu Peak. After treating his eldest disciple, he distributed the spoils. What was cultivation about? Talent? Nonsense. Not everyone had talent. For most, cultivation was about resources—dump enough resources, and even trash could become experts!
Qingxu Peak entered seclusion for a month.
At the start of the next month, Fang Zhiyi dragged Ren Xuan back.
Ren Xuan was bitter. He’d figured it out—this so-called “sparring” was just Qingxu Zhenren’s excuse to extort his master! But against Fang Zhiyi, he had no choice but to fight.
This time, however, he was shocked. Those former good-for-nothings could now exchange a few moves with him.
But when he returned, he carried another medical bill—this one listing spirit stones, herbs, and spiritual plants.
The sect leader was furious, tearing up the bill and even kicking Ren Xuan.
Yet that very night, a breakthrough aura enveloped the entire Xuantian Sect.
Qingxu Zhenren had ascended to the Deity Transformation stage!
The entire sect was stunned. That same night, the sect leader’s top disciple, Lian Cheng, rushed over with “compensation” and congratulations. Fang Zhiyi didn’t ask why the sect leader hadn’t come—he could guess. The man was probably seething, his mental state in shambles.
Normally, the sect would celebrate a new Deity Transformation expert. But reality was different. With Fang Zhiyi’s breakthrough, his disciples became even more unruly.
These former nobodies now roamed the sect challenging everyone to “sparring matches.”
The mere mention of “sparring” made the entire Xuantian Sect tense. Nearly every faction had been “billed.” No one knew how Qingxu Zhenren trained his disciples—they weren’t strong, but their audacity had skyrocketed. Even when facing arrogant inner disciples, they fearlessly issued challenges. They didn’t even seem to care about winning—losing just meant happily returning to deliver another compensation demand.
Refusing wasn’t an option. Otherwise, Fang Zhiyi would show up that night—“accidentally” breaking things, “losing control” and demolishing buildings, or even “unintentionally” slapping Elder Zhong from the Enforcement Hall so hard he spat blood. Fang Zhiyi would then ask with feigned concern if he was alright, but to Elder Zhong, every word dripped with threat.
No one dared go too hard in these “sparring” matches—the Alchemy Peak had already learned that lesson the hard way.
Even Shen Wanwan, dense as she was, realized Qingxu Zhenren was now untouchable. Her master spoke of him with barely concealed frustration. Though she loathed Shen Xiaoxiao, she didn’t dare act—especially since her own status had plummeted. Her master knew the whole story, and some seniors whispered that if she hadn’t provoked Qingxu’s disciples, they wouldn’t be in this mess, their resources dwindling.
Even her once-favorite second senior brother now avoided her.
Shen Wanwan’s resentment festered, especially when she saw Shen Xiaoxiao surrounded by admiring seniors.
Qingxu Peak had become the Xuantian Sect’s vampire, sucking up all its resources. Finally, the elders had enough. Fang Zhiyi’s dozen disciples ran rampant—though weaker, no one dared oppose them. The elders’ authority crumbled.
They convened with the sect leader, demanding a resolution. They’d confront Qingxu directly—after all, he was still part of the Xuantian Sect. For the sect’s sake, he had to stop. If he refused... well, with so many Nascent Souls, even a sword cultivator among them, surely they could suppress one early-stage Deity Transformation expert!
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."
he colors of other people’s emotions. Light red meant anxiety. Gray meant exhaustion. Orange meant excitement. Yellow... meant repression. At the same time, he could gain unlimited control over one of those colors. Pale cyan: relaxation. Using this ability, he started offering “two-yuan hugs,” spending an afternoon exchanging emotional-color experiences with others. Then came his final female customer of the day— a girl whose emotional color was pure black... —— A week later, Xu Chuan had become skilled at using pale cyan—Relaxation—treating it like a bottle of menthol balm whenever he needed it. That was when he discovered he had unlocked another unlimited emotional color: Purple, the color of fear. So these emotional colors refresh every week? Fine, I take it back—I’ll never call you useless again... —— Much later, after Xu Chuan had accumulated countless emotional abilities, one night, he suddenly found himself inside someone else’s dream. There, he could use the emotional colors he possessed to paint. And in her dream, he painted her a shower of pink shooting stars, spreading across the depths of the night sky...
pression Bureau] Transported to a fantasy world overrun by demons and monsters, Gu Qingfeng becomes a jailer in the Demon Suppression Prison of the Great Yan Dynasty's Demon Suppression Bureau. From this point on, bizarre cases frequently occur in the Demon Suppression Prison, once known as hell on earth and infamous for its gloomy, terrifying atmosphere! Why do the demons and monsters in the prison wail miserably every night? Why has the corpse demon, capable of transforming into various beauties, donned black stockings and switched careers to become a foot massage therapist? Why has the eye demon, expert in soul-snatching and illusions, turned into a VR headset? Why is the fox spirit performing otaku dances? Are all these occurrences a twisted expression of demonic nature, or a descent into moral depravity? After peeling away layer upon layer of mystery, all clues ultimately point to a jailer named Gu Qingfeng. Gu Qingfeng: "Hehehe... My dear demons and monsters, whose card shall we flip today?"
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.
