They weren’t opposed to the act itself, but they were shocked that the old woman had done it without telling them—how dangerous!
Fang Zhaodi stood up. "Is it?" Her face wore a smile, but tears streamed endlessly from the corners of her eyes, sending chills down the spine of anyone who saw her.
Old Madam Huang shook her head in panic. "No, how could that be? There’s no such thing!"
"If there isn’t, then eat this food!" Fang Zhaodi roared.
Old Madam Huang’s face was swollen and pale. "I—I’m not hungry!"
"Eat it, or I’ll force-feed you!" Fang Zhaodi grabbed the old woman’s hair with one hand and reached for the bowl with the other.
Old Madam Huang struggled. "Let go! I won’t eat it, I won’t! Are you two just going to stand there like corpses? Old man!"
Old Man Huang stood up at her call, but the moment Fang Zhaodi turned her head, he sat back down. After a moment’s hesitation, he said, "Wife, if you didn’t poison the food, then just take a bite." He was putting his specialty to good use—playing both sides, shifting his stance to whoever had the upper hand.
Old Madam Huang wanted to curse him out, but with the bowl in her daughter-in-law’s hand drawing closer, she endured the pain in her scalp and cried out to Huang Minhao for help. "Son! Son! Save me!"
But she never expected that Huang Minhao would pretend not to hear. He wasn’t stupid—right now, he was no match for this madwoman. Besides, his mother could take a beating; a few more wouldn’t kill her.
"Eat!"
Old Madam Huang finally broke. Her legs gave out, and she collapsed to her knees. "I poisoned it! I poisoned it! Please, spare me!"
Fang Zhaodi looked down at her, set the plate aside, then pulled out the firewood cleaver from her waistband. With a forceful swing, she embedded it into the table.
"Today, one of you three will eat this dish. Otherwise..." Her eyes were hollow yet frenzied.
Old Man Huang was the first to stand up, forcing a smile as he waved his hands. "I’m not hungry. Been having indigestion lately."
Huang Minhao stole a glance at the cleaver, then kept his head down and muttered, "Whoever cooked it should eat it. I won’t. I’ve got laundry to finish."
With that, he actually stood up and limped toward the half-washed clothes.
Old Madam Huang stared at the two men in disbelief. "You—you heartless bastards! You’re just going to let this little whore run wild, is that it? Especially you, you old turtle! Hiding in your shell all day, you spineless coward!"
Old Man Huang glared but said nothing. Fang Zhaodi, however, let out a laugh. "Didn’t I warn you? Say those three words again, and I’ll cut out your tongue." She reached for the cleaver.
Huang Minhao didn’t dare turn around, but his mind was already racing with another plan.
If this madwoman struck, he’d bolt for the door, screaming about murder. Then he’d report her to the authorities. She’d be arrested. Sure, his mother might suffer, but to change their circumstances, she’d understand.
Then he could demand the dowry back from the Fang family... No, forget it. The Fangs had another lunatic. Better to write off the dowry.
"Please, please, don’t kill me! Don’t kill me!" Seeing that her husband and son had truly abandoned her, Old Madam Huang panicked. The look in her daughter-in-law’s eyes wasn’t a bluff—Fang Zhaodi was radiating murderous intent.
A pungent smell filled the air. Fang Zhaodi looked down and sneered. "So you can piss yourself from fear too?" She remembered the time her husband had beaten her, the terror making her lose control, while this very woman had stood by, hurling insults and mocking her.
She raised the cleaver high, her mind flooded with the thrill of vengeance and the bitterness of past suffering.
Old Man Huang hunched his shoulders and shut his eyes. Huang Minhao kept his gaze fixed on the laundry, waiting for the inevitable. Old Madam Huang, half-dead with fear, raised her arms to shield her face.
BANG BANG BANG!
The front door shuddered under heavy knocking.
The tension shattered. To Old Madam Huang, it was like hearing heavenly music. She scrambled up from the floor, shrieking, "Murder! Murder!"
She had to open the door—let the outsider see her daughter-in-law with the raised cleaver. She had to survive!
But just as she reached the door, Fang Zhaodi yanked her back by the hair. Eyes bloodshot, Fang Zhaodi lifted the cleaver again. Old Madam Huang tore free at the cost of a clump of hair, unlatched the iron bolt, and flung the door open.
"Hel—"
The first word died in her throat as she saw the face she least wanted to see.
Fang Zhiyi squeezed inside. "Well, well. Busy, are we? Should I come back later?"
"Fang! Control your sister!" Old Madam Huang was desperate enough to beg even him.
Fang Zhaodi stared blankly at her brother, confused by his sudden return—until Fang Zhiyi pried the cleaver from her hand.
"I knew it. Swinging from one extreme to the other, just to hand the protagonist some achievements, huh?" he muttered, glancing at Fang Zhaodi, then at Huang Minhao hunched over the laundry tub, Old Man Huang with his head bowed, and Old Madam Huang collapsed on the floor.
"Sis, I’m here for money."
Fang Zhaodi’s mind was a whirlwind—poisoned food, her own beatings, the old hag’s abuse—all silenced by Fang Zhiyi’s blunt demand.
"Money?"
Fang Zhiyi nodded as if it were obvious. "Mom and Dad said the dowry wasn’t enough. You owe more."
At the mention of her parents, a wave of bitterness surged in Fang Zhaodi’s heart. Right. She’d almost forgotten. Her brother had come for money the first time too. Helping her was just a side benefit.
"Money..." Fang Zhaodi patted her pockets. She didn’t have a cent. Then she turned to Huang Minhao.
Huang Minhao flinched. "I don’t have any."
It was Old Man Huang who spoke up. "Demanding more dowry after all this time? That’s not how it works."
Money had finally roused the father and son from their feigned stupor.
Fang Zhiyi’s eyes widened in mock realization. "Uncle’s right. So let’s call it parental support instead. My sister used to send money home every month. By now, she should’ve saved up quite a bit, no?"
The Huangs were stunned into silence. Fang Zhaodi kept her head lowered.
Fang Zhiyi gasped in exaggerated shock. "No way, Sis. You’ve been working like a slave in this house, and you don’t have a single coin?"
Fang Zhaodi slowly raised her head. He was right. She’d never lacked for work, always ate leftovers, yet never held onto any money after marriage.
"Oof, this is awkward. Hard for me to meddle in your family affairs—you’re my sister, but they’re not my family." He emphasized the last three words.
Fang Zhaodi began to understand.
"I’ll get you the money tomorrow. Okay?"
Fang Zhiyi smiled in satisfaction.
"Need me to stay the night?"
Fang Zhaodi shook her head with a faint smile. "No. Go home. Mom and Dad will worry."
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!
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?!
e, Immortal Body, Transmigration, System, Progression Fantasy, Academy Setting, Third-Person Perspective. Alternate Title: Transmigrating into a High Martial World and Reading Live Comments. Bad news: I transmigrated. This is a terrifying high-martial world, and my original, pathetically weak body fell into a coma and never woke up. Good news: I got a Popularity Points system upon arrival. I can see live comments and even create an unkillable alternate identity. Starting out, the alternate identity has all stats at 1. The system tells me that to grow stronger, I must participate in the plot, gain popularity points to allocate stats and grow stronger, and ultimately awaken my original body. And so, carrying my original body on my back, I officially entered Huaqing Academy, where the story's protagonist resides. From that moment on, Chen Guan kicked the original plot to pieces. Live Comments: [Doesn't anyone find this mysterious coffin guy creepy? He can summon indescribable grey misty hands.] [Is this guy a hero or a villain? What kind of onion became a spirit?] [By the way, does anyone know who's in the coffin? Shouldn't the debt for saving his life be repaid by now?] [According to unofficial histories, the person in the coffin was Chen Guan's first love. Their love was once passionate and earth-shattering, but they were separated by life and death due to worldly circumstances. What a star-crossed pair.] ... Years later, the world knew of a demon god born from a coffin, shrouded in grey mist, impossible to gaze upon directly. His foremost divine emissary often wielded a scythe, reaping lives like the god of death. As war approached, facing former friends and a boundless sea of enemies, Chen Guan merely raised his scythe. "Would you like to dance as well?"
close your eyes and open them again, only to find yourself transmigrated into the role of a villainous male supporting character. Readers familiar with urban wish-fulfillment novels know that it is only through the relentless antics of the villainous male supporting character that the plot between the male and female leads can progress. As the villainous male supporting character, Long Aotian not only has to bully the female lead, harass the second female lead, and flirt with the third female lead, but he also has to go all out to antagonize the male lead. In the end, when his body is discovered, he is still clutching half a moldy fried dough stick in his hand. Fully aware of the plot, Long Aotian is determined to change his fate, starting with the female lead! In the beginning, the female lead lacks confidence: "Big brother, I hope I didn't scare you?" In the middle, the female lead treads carefully: "Brother Long, please don't hit me, okay?" Later on, the female lead becomes coquettishly clingy: "Aotian, it's time to pay the 'public grain' tonight." Long Aotian's legs go weak, and he feels like crying: "I taught you to be thick-skinned, not shameless!"
