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!
grated, and just when he finally managed to get into an elite academy, he discovered that he actually had a system, and the way to earn rewards was extremely ridiculous. So for the sake of rewards, he had no choice but to start acting ridiculous as well. Su Cheng: "It's nothing but system quests after all." But later, what confused Su Cheng was that while he was already quite ridiculous, he never expected those serious characters to gradually become ridiculous too. And the way they looked at him became increasingly strange... (This synopsis doesn't do it justice, please read the full story)
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.”
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?!
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."
