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!
Cheng's father told him he was getting remarried—to a wealthy woman. Cao Cheng realized his time had finally come: he was about to become a second-generation rich kid. Sure, it might be a watered-down version, but hey, at least he'd have status now, right? The wealthy woman also had four daughters!! Which meant, starting today, Cao Cheng gained four stunning older sisters?? But that wasn't even the whole story... "My name is Cao Cheng—'Cheng' as in 'honest, smooth-talking gentleman'!"
for mindless slaughter, this isn't for you.] My name is Ye Shu, and I'm a transmigrator. It seems I'm supposed to be the protagonist, but that feels pretty unlikely. This world has been invaded by a system. The antagonists on the other side have suddenly become pure, flawless saints. The female leads have been force-fed the so-called "original plot," making them think they've been reborn. Now, everyone thinks I'm scum. Including the old lady in my ring. And here I am, in the Monster Beast Mountain Range, braising pork. To put my situation in perspective— It's as if, the moment Xiao Yan stepped into the Monster Beast Mountain Range, the Soul Emperor already knew he would become the Flame Emperor, and Yao Lao had been turned to the enemy's side. I have nothing right now. Oh wait, that's not true. I do have a white-haired loli child-bride who's the Heavenly Dao, and her only skill is acting cute. So, tell me guys... what are my chances of making it to the end?
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?!
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!
