Fang Zhiyi raised his hand and said, "I'd like to ask—anyone here who's suffered at the hands of this scoundrel, raise your hand and let me see."
The crowd stood in stunned silence, glancing around uncertainly.
Fang Zhiyi hadn’t actually expected anyone to step forward. After all, he was the highest authority here, and his word was law. Today, he simply wanted to make a statement.
But to his surprise, an old man in the crowd slowly raised his hand.
"You there, uncle," Fang Zhiyi pointed. "Come forward and speak." The crowd immediately parted to let the old man through.
Trembling, the old man shuffled forward, his clouded eyes briefly settling on Li Shun.
"I'm old. I don’t have many days left," he said, his voice heavy with sorrow. "And I know—you’re the Marshal. In the end, you’ll side with your own. But today, I’m going to expose everything this beast has done! Once I’m done, you can kill me or cut me to pieces—I won’t resist!"
The old man grew agitated, and Fang Zhiyi raised a hand to stop the guards from reacting.
"It was this gang, led by him. They were drunk, claimed my son was blocking their way, and beat him half to death. My wife couldn’t take it—she said she’d take it up with their superiors. But instead of backing down, they struck her too! My son tried to shield his mother, and they beat him to death right there!"
The old man’s voice grew eerily calm. "My wife dragged our son’s body home. She died that same night."
"You warlord dogs! What justice do you even speak of?"
Fang Zhiyi’s expression darkened. He drew his pistol.
The old man knew what was coming. He closed his eyes.
A gunshot rang out.
Confused, the old man opened his eyes—only to see Li Shun’s lifeless body crumpled on the ground.
The crowd erupted into chaos. A group of people surged forward, voices shouting, "Li Shun! Where’s my son, Li Shun?"
When Old Master Li pushed his way to the front and saw the corpse, his eyes bulged in disbelief. He turned to Fang Zhiyi, stammering, "Marshal Fang, you—how could you—how could you—" Before he could finish, he collapsed, unconscious.
Fang Zhiyi frowned. "Drag him away!"
Guards immediately moved to disperse the Li family.
Fang Zhiyi tapped his forehead with the barrel of his pistol. "Old man, let me ask you something. Was this brat there that day?"
Fang Yaozu, who had just watched his father execute Li Shun, now found himself pointed at. Fear seized him, and his entire body trembled.
The old man stared at Li Shun’s corpse, then at Fang Yaozu, before letting out a bitter laugh. "Marshal, your son wasn’t there that day."
Fang Zhiyi frowned. "Speak the truth. He’s my son, but that doesn’t make him any more special. Was he involved?" He leveled the gun at Fang Yaozu.
Zhao Dezhu tensed. He debated whether to intervene—killing one’s own son would make for an ugly rumor.
After a long silence, the old man shook his head. "He truly wasn’t there, Marshal. I—"
Fang Zhiyi studied him. "Two lives were taken from your family. Even if every last one of them died, it wouldn’t be enough to repay that debt. Starting today, if you’re willing, you can move into my residence. I’ll repay you, bit by bit."
The old man stood silently, unmoving.
Fang Zhiyi sighed inwardly. The mess left behind by the original owner of this body was truly a headache to clean up.
With the first person having stepped forward, a glimmer of hope flickered in the eyes of the crowd. Was this Marshal different from the rumors? Had he simply been deceived?
Fang Zhiyi pointed to another man.
This time, several hands shot up. As the victims recounted their grievances, the accused soldier’s face grew paler by the second.
Fang Zhiyi raised his gun again—but someone was faster.
Cao Wenjie fired first, then flashed Fang Zhiyi a grin.
Fang Zhiyi stared at him. A second later, a bullet whizzed past Cao Wenjie’s scalp.
Cao Wenjie froze.
"You’re making decisions for me now? Next time, will you shoot at me?" Fang Zhiyi’s voice was soft, but Cao Wenjie broke out in a cold sweat. He’d only wanted to show initiative—who knew the Marshal would react like this? In the past, he’d always praised his quick thinking.
"I wouldn’t dare!" Cao Wenjie made the right choice—holstering his gun, bowing, and stepping back.
Fang Zhiyi gave him a dark look before pointing at the next man. "This one… I remember him. The nephew of the deputy quartermaster. Anyone here know him?"
The young man had already wet himself. Ever since he’d started running with Li Shun’s gang, he’d lived a life of luxury—never imagining he’d face judgment one day.
Eight men in total—all executed without exception.
This ruthless display not only shocked the surrounding soldiers but also earned cheers from the common folk.
"Everything they stole will be confiscated today. Come to my office to register and reclaim your belongings. Additionally, each of you will receive ten silver dollars. I, Fang Zhiyi, failed to maintain discipline. I apologize to you all."
Applause broke out.
Fang Zhiyi raised a hand for silence, then pointed at Fang Yaozu, who stood petrified.
"What has he done?"
The crowd fell quiet.
"I heard he’s stolen from civilians too, hasn’t he? Maybe even harassed women?"
The old man spoke up again, clasping his hands respectfully. "Marshal, your son is still young. He was just led astray by them. He hasn’t done anything truly heinous—just acted a bit arrogantly. Today, you’ve given us justice. We’re already grateful. This old man dares to plead for leniency—spare the young master, Marshal."
"That’s right!"
"Marshal, those things weren’t worth much anyway. Consider them gifts for the young master."
"Show mercy, Marshal!"
Fang Zhiyi felt a pang of emotion. Maybe they genuinely didn’t believe he’d kill his own son—or maybe they thought Fang Yaozu’s crimes weren’t severe enough. If they knew what Fang Yaozu would do in the original timeline, they’d probably tear him apart with their bare hands.
"Did you hear that?" Fang Zhiyi turned to his foolish son.
Fang Yaozu blinked. "Huh?"
"I asked if you heard them."
A beat later, Fang Yaozu nodded frantically. "I heard! Father! I was wrong! Please spare me!"
"Spare you?" Fang Zhiyi smirked. "Zhao Dezhu!"
"Here!" Zhao Dezhu snapped to attention, still reeling from the Marshal’s uncharacteristic behavior today.
"Take this brat to the barracks. Put him to work—the hardest, dirtiest labor there is. If I hear anyone’s gone easy on him because of who he is, I’ll skin you alive!"
"Yes, sir!" Zhao Dezhu didn’t dare hesitate.
Fang Zhiyi addressed the crowd again. "Anyone who’s been robbed or beaten by this little bastard, come to my residence to register. Stolen goods will be repaid in full. For those who were struck—ten silver dollars each!"
"Uh, Marshal," Zhao Dezhu ventured cautiously.
"What?"
"Calling the young master a ‘little bastard’… isn’t very flattering to you."
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."
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.
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!"
