"What?" Huang Minhao was momentarily dazed.
Xiao Qi, who had followed Fang Zhiyi, pulled out a pair of handcuffs. "New regulations—still in trial implementation, but you can serve as a cautionary example."
Huang Minhao struggled, but it was futile.
"According to the new regulations, your personal information will be made public, and you’ll undergo a year of mandatory labor reform. You have the right to remain silent—though even if you don’t, I’ll make sure you do," Fang Zhiyi grinned. "Oh, and by the way, my sister was the one who pushed for this law. Bet you didn’t see that coming? Your little stunt just added the final spark she needed."
"How…" Huang Minhao looked around desperately for help. His son, still sprawled on the ground, glared at him with pure hatred, while his father stood by, watching.
Fang Zhiyi glanced around too.
This old man sure has a long lifespan.
"Apprentice, what’s the sentence for attempted murder?"
Xiao Qi froze, then instinctively looked at the teenage boy. "A few years, but since he’s a minor…"
"Isn’t there juvenile detention?"
"That’s against protocol, Master," Xiao Qi muttered. "Ow! Why’d you kick me, Master?"
Fang Zhiyi sighed. This guy was hopeless—a rigid, by-the-book thinker. But as he watched Huang Wenhao struggle to his feet, he shook his head. Whatever.
If the victim wasn’t pressing charges, he might as well let it go.
Fang Nuan continued living her life diligently. When she learned that her ex-husband had become the first person punished under the new law, she paused for a few seconds. Then, hearing her brother’s name mentioned, she simply lowered her head and went back to reviewing her documents.
Huang Minhao served his year of labor reform. His guardian became Old Man Huang, though the old man could barely take care of himself. Huang Wenhao dropped out of school entirely, living off the alimony his mother provided. He grew increasingly withdrawn, his resentment toward the Huang family simmering beneath the surface. Slowly, he began to resemble his father.
The difference was, while Huang Minhao’s body bore the scars of his past, Huang Wenhao’s wounds were all in his soul.
Old Man Huang had assumed he could stay detached, untouched by the chaos. But he never expected his temperamental grandson to direct all his rage at him.
Hunger and verbal abuse became routine.
When Huang Minhao returned home, people pointed and whispered wherever he went. As the first offender under the new law, he was far more infamous than any who came after.
He pushed open the door, ready to vent his frustration, but no one paid him any attention.
Old Man Huang sat in a daze, staring blankly at the sky, while Huang Wenhao hacked mindlessly at the corner of a table with a kitchen knife.
A sudden wave of desolation washed over Huang Minhao.
Within two years, Old Man Huang was dead.
Huang Minhao grew older, while Huang Wenhao came of age. Their roles reversed—now it was the son who inherited his father’s cruelty, hurling insults and fists at the slightest provocation. Huang Minhao fought back, even when outmatched.
But both father and son tread carefully, afraid of being arrested again.
With the new law fully enforced and penalties harsher than ever, they were trapped—hurting each other, fearing each other, until one of them died.
Fang Zhiyi kept his distance from Fang Nuan. He knew the original owner of this body had hurt his sister deeply, and staying away was the best he could do.
But during an investigation, the relentlessly righteous protagonist—Xiao Qi—stormed into a criminal hideout.
Just as he was about to be hacked to death, Fang Zhiyi burst in, taking the fatal slash meant for him.
Though Fang Zhiyi, with his god-like perspective, found Xiao Qi utterly devoid of empathy, he couldn’t fault his logic. If everyone acted as vigilantes, each with their own moral compass, the world would descend into chaos.
Xiao Qi cradled Fang Zhiyi’s dying body, his face twisted in anguish. He grabbed a knife, ready to execute the attacker, but Fang Zhiyi stopped him.
"You… need to think things through."
Fang Zhiyi died.
Rumor had it he held on just long enough to finish his will—half his savings to his parents, half to his sister, even specifying what to do with his tattered underwear. He drew his last breath the moment help arrived.
At his memorial, Fang Zhiyi’s aged parents stood numbly before his gravestone. Not far away, Fang Nuan, clad in a black dress, let a single tear fall.
"I forgave you long ago, you fool of a brother…"
"Damn… I got dragged into fate’s script after all?" Fang Zhiyi sighed.
"Of course. As the protagonist’s mentor, you had to die."
Floating cross-legged above his own funeral, Fang Zhiyi suddenly remembered something. "Well?"
The little black creature smacked its lips. "You were right. She guessed you were reborn too."
"This world is exhausting—so many threads to manage. Can you be more reliable next time?"
The creature didn’t answer. Fang Zhiyi noticed its body was… expanding? Flickering like a lost signal.
"Hey, what’s happening to you?"
"Finished digesting energy from the previous worlds," it said. "We need to leave. This world’s cosmic order has noticed me."
Fang Zhiyi and the creature vanished into a swirling void.
Fang Nuan continued down the path her brother had laid out for her. She’d always found his sudden change baffling, but her memories from her past life had filled her with resentment, so she avoided him.
He must have been reborn too—but so what? Could that undo the pain he’d caused?
Her feelings toward Fang Zhiyi remained complicated.
But when she heard of his death and his almost comically meticulous will, her tears splashed onto the documents in her hands.
After that, she finally set aside her endless work, traveling the world instead. Occasionally, she’d check in on the abusive ex-husband and his ungrateful son.
Watching Huang Wenhao grow into his father’s image, Fang Nuan smiled.
Every year, she’d visit Fang Zhiyi’s grave, sitting awhile to share her stories—whether he could hear her or not.
She wondered what her brother had endured in his past life. Whatever it was, he must have loved her deeply. Why else would he rush to save her after being reborn, teaching her to fight back, resist, grow, and stand on her own?
And then he’d walked away. That day the Huang father and son came to cause trouble, she’d spotted him hiding in the crowd. Seeing Huang Minhao again, she’d wanted to kill him in a frenzy—but the moment she met Fang Zhiyi’s eyes, she knew what to do.
She couldn’t let her hopeless little brother keep cleaning up her messes forever.
Fang Nuan placed a bouquet on the gravestone, gazing at the photo etched into it. Warmth filled her heart.
Fang Nuan—the name he’d given her.
It really was perfect.

g Yu was preparing for retirement when her organization decided to eliminate her. She transmigrated to a zombie apocalypse world. However, a tiny unexpected situation occurred: She somehow transformed into an adorable little girl?!

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.

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."

transmigrates into the world as the sect master of the Heavenly Yan Sect, which is on the verge of being wiped out. He binds a system that grants him cultivation power based on the number of disciples he has: for each disciple, he automatically gains a year's worth of cultivation every single day! Take one disciple: every day he gains 1 year of cultivation power. While others struggle through a year of bitter training, he gets the same just by sleeping through a single night. Take ten disciples: every day he gains 10 years of cultivation power. Foundation Establishment, Core Formation, Nascent Soul—he breezes through all bottlenecks without lifting a finger. Take one hundred disciples: every day he gains 100 years of cultivation power. Even a Soul Transformation Venerable before him can’t survive a single blow. Take ten thousand disciples: every day he gains 10,000 years of cultivation power! With a wave of his hand, he topples empires. With a single step, he crushes the sacred grounds of the universe. ... While others fight tooth and nail for secret techniques, Lin Yan casually hands out Nascent Soul-level cultivation manuals as beginner textbooks. While others strain to find talented recruits, Lin Yan opens his doors to anyone—so long as they’re human. In just three short years, the Heavenly Yan Sect went from a backwater sect made up of three crumbling huts to a sacred land that every cultivator under heaven would kill to enter. ... One day, otherworldly demon gods invade, with a million demon soldiers pressing down upon the realm. Lin Yan, yawning, rises from his lounge chair and glances at the system panel: [Current Disciples: 1.28 million] [Daily Cultivation Increase: 1.28 million years] He waves his hand casually, and the countless demon soldiers are reduced to ashes in an instant. “So noisy… interrupting my fishing.”