With just a bit of money, Fang Zhiyi secured insiders within Panlong Stronghold. He didn’t need them to hold high-ranking positions—to ensure they wouldn’t take the money and slack off, he also informed them that there were multiple informants, none of whom knew each other, and every piece of intelligence would be cross-verified.
Soon, he had a firm grasp of Panlong Stronghold’s inner workings.
Next, he decided to use Xue Qi’s own methods against him. Borrowing Master Zhou’s men—the very resources Panlong Stronghold coveted—Fang Zhiyi now commanded them.
First, he sent assassins to infiltrate, framing others for the killings. Then, he exploited the discord among the peripheral factions, using wealth to stoke rivalries. With a little prodding from his embedded informants, clashes erupted, and when lives were lost, the informants advised the minor leaders to flee and seek redemption by surrendering to the authorities.
Fang Zhiyi examined the defensive layout of Panlong Stronghold presented by one such defector, tapping the map thoughtfully.
"Bandits will always be bandits. The emperor is truly incompetent, allowing a gang of outlaws to grow so powerful."
Wang Jia broke into a cold sweat—such words were treasonous! His grip tightened on his blade as he eyed the Daoist standing silently across from them, ready to strike if the man showed even a hint of disapproval.
Noticing this, Fang Zhiyi smiled. Wang Jia was indeed loyal. Turning to the Daoist, he asked, "Master Xuanyuan, what are your thoughts?"
Master Xuanyuan opened his eyes slightly, first glancing at Wang Jia and then at the white-knuckled hand clutching the sword hilt. "Brother Wang Jia, you’re too tense."
He turned back to Fang Zhiyi. "Since you first sought me out to share your plans, I’ve been curious about the ‘peaceful utopia’ you envision. Now, it seems Panlong Stronghold is doomed to self-destruct. As for imperial authority... I am but a man of the Dao. It is not my place to comment."
Fang Zhiyi chuckled. Master Xuanyuan was truly skilled—no wonder he had sided with Panlong Stronghold in the original timeline. Fortunately, Fang Zhiyi had found him first. Without him, the stronghold’s future was precarious.
Had the man ever harmed innocent civilians, Fang Zhiyi would have sent him to the afterlife that very day.
Exhaling deeply, Fang Zhiyi ordered, "Notify all units—operations begin tomorrow."
Wang Jia clasped his fists in acknowledgment but froze when Fang Zhiyi added, "Oh, and don’t forget to bring the money you lost betting." Swearing internally, Wang Jia trudged off, cursing his own stupidity for wagering on whether the bandits would defect.
Master Xuanyuan observed Fang Zhiyi as he pored over the map, outwardly calm but inwardly stunned. For some reason, he couldn’t divine Fang Zhiyi’s fate—it was as if the heavens themselves obscured it, as though... he didn’t belong to this mortal realm.
But it didn’t matter. Even immortals knew when to bow to circumstance. Choosing between Panlong Stronghold and Fang Zhiyi was no dilemma for a rational man.
Meanwhile, in a remote mountain inn, a group of merchants stopped to rest, ordering meat and wine. After a few bites, they slumped unconscious over the table.
The innkeeper emerged, a boning knife in hand, his kindly face twisting into a snarl. "Drag them to the back and butcher them. We’re running low on meat filling."
The waiter obeyed, grumbling as he hauled a body, "Boss, I’ve heard things aren’t going well up at the stronghold. The men are disgruntled."
The innkeeper sighed. "That’s none of our concern. Big Brother will handle it."
The waiter muttered, "Merchant caravans these days travel in groups with armed escorts. Easy pickings are scarce, and yet the stronghold still takes the lion’s share of what little we scrounge up. It’s just..."
"Enough!" the innkeeper snapped, though he shared the frustration. For months now, previously scattered caravans had consolidated, guarded by fully armored soldiers, leaving them with dwindling profits.
Unbeknownst to him, this was Fang Zhiyi’s "Military Escort" policy—redirecting the bribes merchants once paid bandits to the military instead. Caravans now traveled under protection, with the newly established Qingping Bank guaranteeing compensation for any losses. Of course, the bank would then reclaim the funds from the local government, which in turn held the military accountable. The system created a seamless cycle: soldiers guarded diligently, merchants traveled worry-free, and some even purchased "membership cards."
Lost in thought, the innkeeper noticed the waiter standing motionless.
"Stop slacking! Hurry up!" he barked, irritated. The boy had been mouthy lately—if not for his skill with a blade, he’d have been butchered too.
But the waiter didn’t move.
Alarm bells rang in the innkeeper’s head—as one of Panlong Stronghold’s footholds, he was always on high alert.
"Men!" Several burly, bare-chested thugs rushed from the kitchen, knives at the ready.
The waiter crumpled to the floor. The "unconscious" merchants sat up.
"You—!" the innkeeper gasped.
One of the merchants flicked his tongue, producing a strange little contraption. He blew into it, emitting a birdlike trill.
"Kill them!" the innkeeper ordered, bracing for close combat—he could handle three or four men barehanded.
Matching bird calls echoed outside. Several "merchants" bolted, hands over their heads, leaving the inn’s enforcers bewildered.
"No—!" The innkeeper realized too late.
Dozens of arrows rained inside. He deflected some with his knife, diving behind the bar, but his men weren’t so lucky—a single volley left them lifeless on the floor.
Trembling, the innkeeper knew his fate was sealed.
Similar scenes unfolded across the region. Within two days, Panlong Stronghold’s spies and black-market outposts were wiped out.
When news reached the stronghold, their informant in Qingping County rushed back with worse tidings: their captured brethren had been publicly tried, the stronghold’s atrocities exposed. Most damningly, Magistrate Fang Zhiyi had invited neighboring bandit gangs to witness the proceedings—and some actually attended.
Shen Xun penned a "Declaration Against Banditry," detailing Panlong Stronghold’s crimes—massacres under the guise of justice, forced conscription of civilians, and more. His reputation ensured the manifesto spread like wildfire.
"This..." Xiaotian Hu swayed, his men steadying him.
"Brother, don’t panic! This is all Qingping Magistrate Fang Zhiyi’s scheme!" Song Yunfan seethed, though inwardly thrilled. "When he captured me, he subjected me to endless humiliation!" Finally, Fang Zhiyi had given him the perfect pretext for revenge—and by provoking Xiaotian Hu, he’d signed his own death warrant.
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.
end. Thus one must continue to cultivate, and become a saint or great emperor, in order to prolong one's life. Chen Xia, however, completely reversed this. Since his transmigration, he has gained immortality, and also a system that awards him with attribute points for every year he lives. Thus between the myriad worlds, the legend of an unparalleled senior appeared. "A gentleman takes revenge; it is never too late even after ten thousand years." "When you were at your peak I yielded, now in your old age I shall trample on you." - Chen Xia
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!
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."
