Early in the morning, Fang Zhaodi was awakened by the sound of conversation outside her door. Listening carefully, she recognized her younger brother discussing the bride price, along with the pleading voices of her father-in-law and mother-in-law.
A pang of disappointment struck Fang Zhaodi’s heart. Once he gets the money, he’ll leave, won’t he? Just like before—she’d work hard to earn money for him, only for him to turn around and walk away without a second thought. The mere idea of facing her husband’s cruel family again filled her with dread.
But then, her fingers brushed against the razor-sharp firewood knife her brother had sharpened for her.
Fang Zhiyi’s words echoed in her ears:
"They’re just human too—two shoulders carrying one head, same as anyone else."
Fortunately, it seemed her brother hadn’t reached an agreement with them. Instead, he pushed the door open and looked at her. "Get up, it’s time to eat."
Breakfast was simple—just noodles—but Fang Zhiyi wasn’t picky, silently devouring his meal.
"Uh, Xiao Fang..." Old Man Huang finally spoke up.
Fang Zhiyi lifted his gaze to meet the old man’s eyes.
"We can’t stay home all day today. The crops need tending, and someone has to watch the fish pond... You see..." His eyes flicked toward Huang Minhao. Fang Zhiyi followed his gaze, taking in the man’s limp arms, and smirked.
"No rush. There’s still unfinished business."
Then he turned to Fang Zhaodi. "Feeling better?"
Fang Zhaodi nodded. After two days of rest, she had regained much of her strength.
Fang Zhiyi clapped his hands. "Good, good. Now, how about our loving family plays a little game?"
The Huang family’s faces twisted in terror, especially Huang Minhao—the usual ferocity in his eyes had vanished completely.
Fang Zhiyi pulled out a few stools and gestured for the three Huangs to sit. Though hesitant, they obeyed—after all, refusal would only earn Huang Minhao another beating.
Then Fang Zhiyi produced a smooth, slender wooden rod.
Fang Zhaodi froze. That... that was the rod Huang Minhao used to beat her. Sometimes Old Madam Huang would whip her with it too.
"Take it." Fang Zhiyi’s tone brooked no argument. Fang Zhaodi numbly reached out and accepted it.
Standing beside her, Fang Zhiyi pointed at Huang Minhao. "Show me where he used this on you. How did he hit you? Point it out."
Huang Minhao’s face was a mask of terror. Fang Zhaodi’s heart pounded wildly.
"Hurry up." Fang Zhiyi’s smile didn’t reach his icy tone.
Staring blankly at her husband, Fang Zhaodi heard Fang Zhiyi’s urging and, against her will, began recalling the scenes of his abuse. A moment later, her trembling hand lifted the rod, pointing at Huang Minhao’s forearm, shoulder, chest, stomach... Her expression shifted too—from fear to something hollow.
Huang Minhao’s legs shook violently, his eyes darting between Fang Zhaodi and Fang Zhiyi in sheer panic. This madman—was he helping his sister take revenge?
Fang Zhiyi’s whisper brushed Fang Zhaodi’s ear.
"Now, stand in front of him with the rod. Stare at him. Stare at the places where he hurt you."
Fang Zhaodi wanted to turn back, but Fang Zhiyi gave her a gentle push.
Hesitantly, she took a step forward, now face-to-face with her crippled husband.
And suddenly, she realized—this man who had always towered over her, whose eyes had once been full of cruelty, was now trembling with fear. He was... afraid?
"See? He’s scared," Fang Zhiyi murmured.
"Please, spare my son!" Old Madam Huang begged, her voice quivering. Though she loathed Fang Zhiyi, she had no choice but to plead—this lunatic might snap at any moment.
"Ah, almost forgot about you." Fang Zhiyi turned. "Sis, what about her?"
Fang Zhaodi’s gaze shifted from Huang Minhao to her mother-in-law, flinching under the woman’s venomous glare.
Fang Zhiyi chuckled. "Sis, keep an eye on them. I’ll be right back."
The moment he left, the Huangs’ masks slipped.
"You little whore! Get that madman brother of yours out of here!"
"Zhaodi, quick—go report him to the authorities! Now!"
"If you don’t obey, you’re dead!"
Faced with meek Fang Zhaodi, the Huangs reverted to their old selves.
Fang Zhaodi shrank back, biting her lip anxiously. She truly didn’t know what to do.
"Sounds like you’re having fun with the insults." Fang Zhiyi’s voice cut through the air. The Huangs whirled around to find him standing right behind them.
"Not very family-like, is it? Such foul language." Fang Zhiyi’s tone was eerily pleasant as he smiled at Fang Zhaodi. "Now, say back to them exactly what they just said to you."
He added, "No need to embellish. Just repeat it word for word."
Fang Zhaodi stood frozen, bewildered.
Fang Zhiyi’s voice whispered again in her ear.
"Remember how they’ve always cursed at you."
"Did it hurt when they hit you?"
"Did it ever feel unfair?"
Finally, Fang Zhaodi let out a scream, shrieking with all her might: "You’re the whore! You’re the trash! Your whole family is worthless!" By the last word, her voice cracked with tears.
Fang Zhiyi exhaled deeply, hands clasped behind his back as he watched his sister collapse to the ground, sobbing. Across from her, Old Madam Huang gaped in disbelief.
Suddenly, Huang Minhao lurched to his feet, knocking over his stool as he staggered toward the door. "Mom! Dad! Hold him off! I’ll get the authorities!"
Fang Zhiyi merely kicked Old Man Huang to the ground, then hurled a stool with perfect aim. It struck Huang Minhao square in the back, sending him sprawling with a howl.
Turning, Fang Zhiyi fixed Old Madam Huang—who had been poised to lunge but now stood frozen—with a warning glare.
"Sis," he said, pointing at Huang Minhao, "want to hit him?"
Fang Zhaodi, still stunned by what had just happened, looked up at her brother with swollen, uncertain eyes.
Fang Zhiyi pressed on. "He beat you. Humiliated you. Even when you begged, he never let up. Right?"
Bitterness, resentment, sorrow, rage—it all surged inside her.
Then she let out a furious cry.
Huang Minhao never imagined his meek, punching bag of a wife would dare raise a hand against him! Though her swings with the rod were clumsy and weak—she was actually hitting him!
Fang Zhaodi flailed the rod wildly, screaming as she did. Fang Zhiyi watched, satisfied.
But behind him, Old Madam Huang crept forward, a shovel in hand.
Fang Zhiyi seemed oblivious—but Fang Zhaodi, mid-outburst, saw it.
"Little brother!" she screamed. Her frail body erupted with energy as she lunged, tackling Old Madam Huang before the shovel could strike. Pinning the old woman down, she slapped her across the face—once, twice, again.
"Call me names, will you? Hit me, will you?"
uld barely embark on the path to immortality. Just as he was on the verge of death, his golden finger awakened. No matter whether it was poison, drained blood and vital energy, diminished lifespan, or any other physical debuff caused by paying a price—once midnight passed, everything would be refreshed. From then on, whenever someone asked what kind of person Chu Ran was, the answer was simple: Forbidden arts that other cultivators dared not learn? Chu Ran would learn them. Prices that even demonic cultivators dared not pay? Chu Ran would pay them. Lifespan that even righteous cultivators dared not burn? Chu Ran would burn it. All the blood essence in his body? Take it. Want both his hands and feet? He would cut them off and send them to you. You say he’s finished? He wasn’t built to sit idle. You think he’s gone mad? No—he was simply waiting for midnight. From that day onward, Chu Ran would respect neither Heaven nor Earth, bow to neither gods nor ghosts. He had only one wish: For midnight to arrive a little sooner.
ng to die together with you." Lin Xuan is dead, his body thrown into the river by his scumbag lover and her accomplice. She, the president of the Su Group, is decisive, ruthless, and ice-cold. For three days and three nights, she had his body fished out of the river, and without hesitation, she kissed the bloated corpse of Lin Xuan. She laid down beside him in a cold coffin, their fingers intertwined, a smile lingering on her lips as she closed her eyes. The noble and cold-hearted woman, only bending for one man—Lin Xuan. Lin Xuan, with his golden finger, is reborn and returns to the day of his wedding to the treacherous woman. Su Qiang comes to steal the bride. Lin Xuan's eyes light up, eager to pledge his loyalty on the spot, but instead, her kiss transfers a glass of drugged wine into his mouth, causing him to pass out... 【Male Protagonist with Single Female Lead】【Yandere Tycoon】【Action-Packed】【True vs. Fake Heir】
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.
