The battle lasted the entire night.
The remnant soul of the Demon Lord never expected that this woman's heart could be so twisted—she was practically the perfect vessel for him, capable of unleashing his full power.
Shen Wanwan tossed aside the barely breathing Ren Xuan and let out a disdainful sneer.
"You call yourselves cultivators?"
The sect master trembled with fear. His once-loyal disciple had gone mad—she had slaughtered several Nascent Soul-stage elders with demonic arts! If he stepped forward now... Elder Zhong, severely injured himself, gasped out, "Sect Master, quick—call Qingxu back!"
The sect master suddenly remembered. "You fiend! Aren’t you afraid of the real Qingxu? If he returns and sees this carnage, do you think you can escape the wrath of a Deity Transformation-stage expert?"
Shen Wanwan laughed. At this moment, she felt invincible, brimming with power.
"What can Qingxu do? You just reminded me." She pointed at the sect master. "Bring Shen Xiaoxiao to me, and I’ll spare your life."
Inside her, the Demon Lord hesitated. Deity Transformation? Since when did the Xuantian Sect have a Deity Transformation powerhouse? Impossible.
"Stop pushing!"
"Make some room!"
"It’s really her—that one who got slapped, what’s her name again?"
Shen Wanwan roared, "Who dares?!" Just hearing those words sent fury surging through her.
As the first person lost their balance, seven or eight others tumbled out from behind a pillar, a chorus of "Ow!" and "Oof!" filling the air.
"I thought the sect had relocated. Turns out, it’s not a move—it’s a massacre." Fang Zhiyi strolled out leisurely, eyeing Shen Wanwan hovering mid-air. He was curious—why did she still look the same?
"Qingxu! Hurry! She’s possessed by the Demon Lord! Act now!" The sect master rejoiced.
But Fang Zhiyi merely crossed his arms. "No rush."
"How can you say that?!" The sect master was frantic.
Fang Zhiyi turned and clapped his hands. "Listen up. This is a rare opportunity—time to test your combat skills."
The disciples were nervous, curious, but not afraid.
"Yes, Master."
"You’re sending these weaklings against me? Qingxu, have you lost your mind?" Shen Wanwan spotted Shen Xiaoxiao. "You—come here!"
But she forgot—she wasn’t facing Shen Xiaoxiao alone, but over a dozen people.
The battle began, a chaotic melee.
Fang Zhiyi sidestepped the heavily wounded Elder Zhong with distaste and slung an arm over the sect master’s shoulder. "So many dead, and you’re just standing here?"
"Me?" The sect master flustered. "I—I must oversee the situation."
"Spare me the excuses. Here’s your chance—step down gracefully."
"What?" The sect master gaped at him, but Fang Zhiyi wasn’t even looking, his eyes fixed on his disciples.
"The Xuantian Sect is doomed under your leadership. Take the offer while it’s still polite. Don’t make me slap sense into you."
With that, he floated upward.
Just as Jiang Leng and Shen Xiaoxiao were sent flying back, he caught them effortlessly.
"So that’s how it is."
In the original plot, Shen Xiaoxiao had turned dark but retained some goodness, never gaining overwhelming power. But Shen Wanwan was different—her negativity perfectly aligned with the Demon Lord’s remnant soul. What she didn’t realize was that her temporary strength came at the cost of her own soul.
The only mystery was why her appearance hadn’t decayed.
At this rate, he could just walk away. Once she burned out, it’d be over.
Just as Fang Zhiyi thought this, a blood-red slash shot toward Shen Xiaoxiao.
His brow furrowed. He caught it mid-air and crushed it in his grip.
Shen Wanwan froze. Even the Demon Lord inside her was stunned.
"I let you spar with my disciples, and you try to kill them?" Fang Zhiyi tilted his head, and an overwhelming surge of spiritual energy erupted.
"Qingxu—no, Fang Zhiyi! Don’t think I fear you! A mere Deity Transformation!" Shen Wanwan shrieked, her mind consumed by madness.
But the next moment, she felt something leave her body.
"What the—you might not fear him, but I do!" The Demon Lord’s remnant soul tried to flee. He never imagined the Xuantian Sect had produced a Deity Transformation expert during his slumber. "Live to fight another day!"
Yet he found himself immobilized, then yanked backward by an invisible force. Fang Zhiyi pinched the writhing mass between his fingers, grimacing.
Deprived of the Demon Lord’s power, Shen Wanwan collapsed, her skin cracking like parched earth. In seconds, she withered into a wrinkled crone.
"Handle her as you see fit—but prioritize your junior sister’s opinion." Fang Zhiyi waved dismissively and flew off.
Once out of sight, Little Hei eagerly snatched the Demon Lord’s remnant soul and gobbled it up.
Watching it chew with relish, Fang Zhiyi wrinkled his nose. "How can that taste good?"
"You wouldn’t understand. It’s like stinky tofu—acquired taste."
Shen Xiaoxiao remained herself. She didn’t kill Shen Wanwan—instead, she sent her back to the Shen family. Fang Zhiyi figured that was worse than death.
News of the Xuantian Sect’s upheaval spread. Other sects came sniffing for advantage, but seeing Fang Zhiyi unharmed and seated calmly, they swallowed their greed and resorted to flattery.
The former sect master retired. Fang Zhiyi assigned him a peak to live out his days with the crippled Elder Zhong.
He knew—the old man would never achieve greatness.
Soon, the Xuantian Sect was reborn, its rules rewritten.
Jiang Leng became the new sect master, albeit reluctantly. No one dared object—Fang Zhiyi wasn’t the leader, but he was very much alive. The last sect that mouthed off had its mountain gate obliterated by a single slap, followed by an extorted pile of spirit stones.
The Xuantian Sect abolished the hierarchy of inner and outer disciples. They welcomed all, regardless of spiritual roots, so long as their character was sound. Other sects mocked them.
But centuries later, they realized their mistake—Xuantian disciples thrived in every field, from cultivation to trade and craftsmanship. The sect unlocked their fullest potential.
Jiang Leng couldn’t admit this was all his master’s doing, so he bore the credit silently.
To Fang Zhiyi, this was second nature—effortless as breathing.
ive and Ruthless] Before his transmigration, Ye Xuan was playing a game called "Severing Emotions to Attain the Dao." The game's core wasn't about leveling up by fighting monsters, but about conquering various "bad women" with wicked personalities and cold, fickle natures. There was only one method to conquer them: stay unwaveringly by their side, then die at a critical moment, driving them to madness after losing the protagonist. The higher their level of regret, the higher the player's score. To dominate the server, Ye Xuan conquered all the bad women. In the early stages, he showered them with boundless tenderness, only to choose to sacrifice himself for them later, making them weep bitterly and drown in regret. Among them were: Xia Lengyue, the unfaithful immortal wife who chased after powerful men and discarded her husband like trash. Ye Qingcheng, the Demonic Venerable of the Joyous Union Sect, who appeared pure and innocent but was, in reality, promiscuous. Wu Lingxiao, the Empress of the Great Xia Dynasty, who lusted after men and loved maintaining a harem. Bai Qiangu of the Endless Demonic Sect: a bloodthirsty mass murderer. However, when the protagonist transmigrated into the game world, he made a horrifying discovery. Eight hundred years had already passed. The bad women he had conquered had now each become deities and revered ancestors. Faced with the endless stream of toxic women coming for him, Ye Xuan could only rely on his god-tier acting skills to carve a path of survival through this world of treacherous women.
ver to a world of cultivation and returned invincible. Modern medicine is child's play compared to elixirs; technological might crumbles before true cultivation. My name is Qin Ning, Earth's sole cultivator!
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!
