"Reporter?" Zhao Yumei looked puzzled for a moment before nodding. "The kind that puts people on TV?"
"Right." Fang Zhiyi calculated that the time was almost up—he needed to remind the old lady soon.
Life or death hinged on how they handled this hurdle. If things went south, he’d have no choice but to wander off as a drifter.
Zhao Yumei waved her hand dismissively. "Let her come! You think I’m scared of her? I knew she was a fox spirit the moment she married your dad! Your father was blind, going off to work and bringing back trash like her!"
Listening to her freely insult her own dead son, Fang Zhiyi could only stay silent. This ally was reliable, but her attacks were indiscriminate.
Sure enough, the next day, Lin Meilan arrived with Wang Tao, the host of True Emotions, a reality TV show. This time, she didn’t bring her lover—probably afraid the bald-headed man would mess things up.
"A father dies unexpectedly, yet his child refuses to acknowledge the mother. Why is that? Today, we’ve come to this small village at the request of Ms. Lin Meilan..."
After a pointless introduction, Wang Tao glanced at Fang Zhiyi sitting on the doorstep and gave Lin Meilan a meaningful look. Lin Meilan nodded, signaling she was ready.
"Zhiyi, come with Mom. I’ll give you a better life." Lin Meilan forced a fake smile and reached out to grab him.
Fang Zhiyi dodged, and a cane suddenly shot out from above his head, jabbing into Lin Meilan’s chest. Zhao Yumei had dressed neatly today, knowing TV appearances required presentability. "Who the hell are you? Trying to kidnap my grandson?"
Lin Meilan froze momentarily, realizing the old woman was her biggest obstacle. "Mom, it’s me—Meilan."
"Pah!" Despite her tidy outfit, Zhao Yumei’s manners hadn’t improved. She spat at Lin Meilan’s feet. "You damn fox spirit, don’t call me Mom! You ran off with my son’s hard-earned money and some other man! You abandoned your own child, and now that my son’s dead, you’re back for his money? Listen here—as long as I’m alive, you won’t lay a finger on my grandson!"
Lin Meilan was speechless. Wang Tao quickly stepped in to mediate. "Ma’am, please calm down. Blood ties can’t be broken. Ms. Lin is the child’s birth mother—"
"Blood ties? What good are they? So we should ignore right and wrong just because of blood?" Zhao Yumei sneered. "Aren’t you filming for TV? Go ahead! Show the whole country this greedy fox spirit! Let everyone see how she abandoned her husband and child, only to come back for a dead man’s money!"
"Ma’am, that’s not how you should speak. Our program’s motto is—" Wang Tao tried to maintain professionalism.
Zhao Yumei cut her off ruthlessly. "What program? You’re just her accomplice! Here’s my warning—anyone who tries to take my grandson from me, I’ll die right in front of them! My worthless life is a fair trade for his future!"
"Ma’am, you’re being unreasonable!" Wang Tao was losing patience.
"So what if I am?" Zhao Yumei seemed fully committed now. She plopped onto the ground, wailing and slapping her thighs. "My son died so tragically! Now his poor mother and son are being bullied! Even the TV crew is helping an outsider steal my grandson! Where’s the justice?"
Wang Tao was flustered. Her show relied on emotional manipulation, but that only worked if the other party had morals. This old woman was threatening suicide and throwing a full-blown tantrum.
The villagers arrived quickly, some even bringing sunflower seeds. They’d noticed the Fang family had been quite entertaining lately.
Soon, people recognized Lin Meilan. Her reputation in the village was worse than Zhao Yumei’s—while Zhao was just stubborn, Lin was outright immoral. The crowd swiftly turned against her, hurling accusations.
Wang Tao sensed trouble and signaled the cameraman to leave. The moment the camera shut off, Zhao Yumei sprang up from the ground and lunged at Lin Meilan, yanking her hair and slapping her face. Dazed, Lin Meilan wasn’t about to hold back—she shrieked and fought back. Fang Zhiyi suddenly shouted, "Don’t hit my grandma!"
He grabbed Zhao Yumei’s cane and swung wildly, though every strike landed precisely on Lin Meilan’s joints.
Wang Tao hesitated, then ordered the cameraman to start filming again. But Fang Zhiyi timed it perfectly—one sharp strike to the back of Lin Meilan’s knee sent her stumbling into the cameraman. Both tumbled into the roadside ditch, the camera smashing on impact.
The equipment was ruined, though the cameraman was fine. Wang Tao was furious—this would cost them! She started demanding compensation, but Zhao Yumei glared. "That fox spirit crashed into them. Everyone saw it. Why yell at my grandson?"
The villagers nodded in agreement.
Wang Tao didn’t care. Faced with the unyielding Zhao Yumei and the hapless Lin Meilan, she chose the latter instantly. And so, the dazed Lin Meilan found herself saddled with an unexpected debt.
Watching them flee in disarray, Zhao Yumei dusted her hands and spat. "Worthless trash."
Fang Zhiyi helped brush the dirt off her clothes. She looked at him approvingly. "You’ve grown up. Even know how to help your grandma fight now. Good."
Fang Zhiyi understood—the old woman truly saw him as family now.
Back in her rented apartment, Lin Meilan nursed her grievances. Her face was swollen from the old hag’s slaps, her body aching all over. And that little bastard had helped the hag!
Her lover, Ma Tiao, lounging on the couch, gaped at her. "Damn, where’d you get your ass kicked like this?"
Lin Meilan, already in a foul mood, shot him a glare.
Ma Tiao frowned. "So? Didn’t you bring the reporter?"
"It didn’t work!" Lin Meilan fumed. "That old hag hit me! That little brat hit me too! And I ended up breaking their camera! They’re making me pay!"
Ma Tiao bolted upright. "What? How much?!"
He didn’t care if she’d been beaten—only the money mattered.
Lin Meilan’s heart sank. She turned and stormed into her room.
This wasn’t over.
"Here we are..." Zhao Yumei led Fang Zhiyi around until they stood before a towering building.
Fang Zhiyi looked up, then at Zhao Yumei. This old lady must’ve been something in her youth.
"The old bastard’s address was definitely here..." She took Fang Zhiyi upstairs.
Fang Zhiyi was thoroughly impressed. Even someone like Zhao Yumei had friends? Then again, even history’s worst villains had a couple of close allies.
ive and Ruthless] Before his transmigration, Ye Xuan was playing a game called "Severing Emotions to Attain the Dao." The game's core wasn't about leveling up by fighting monsters, but about conquering various "bad women" with wicked personalities and cold, fickle natures. There was only one method to conquer them: stay unwaveringly by their side, then die at a critical moment, driving them to madness after losing the protagonist. The higher their level of regret, the higher the player's score. To dominate the server, Ye Xuan conquered all the bad women. In the early stages, he showered them with boundless tenderness, only to choose to sacrifice himself for them later, making them weep bitterly and drown in regret. Among them were: Xia Lengyue, the unfaithful immortal wife who chased after powerful men and discarded her husband like trash. Ye Qingcheng, the Demonic Venerable of the Joyous Union Sect, who appeared pure and innocent but was, in reality, promiscuous. Wu Lingxiao, the Empress of the Great Xia Dynasty, who lusted after men and loved maintaining a harem. Bai Qiangu of the Endless Demonic Sect: a bloodthirsty mass murderer. However, when the protagonist transmigrated into the game world, he made a horrifying discovery. Eight hundred years had already passed. The bad women he had conquered had now each become deities and revered ancestors. Faced with the endless stream of toxic women coming for him, Ye Xuan could only rely on his god-tier acting skills to carve a path of survival through this world of treacherous women.
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.”
world slacker. But a genius female disciple just had to get clingy, insisting that he take her as a disciple. Not only that, she was always making advances on him, thoroughly disrupting his peaceful slacker life...
young master of the Shen family—a figure of immense power and wealth beyond measure—and awakened the "Destined Ultimate Villain System"! His starting scenario? Running into his icy fiancée who shows up with a mountain-descending divine doctor to break off their engagement. The divine doctor arrogantly taunts: "What does your Shen family have besides a bit of stinking money? You're not even worthy of tying Qingxue's shoelaces!" Shen Fei just smiled. He completely defied the usual script: "Fine, I agree to break off the engagement. Also, notify the finance department to withdraw all investments from the Su family." Minutes later, with its capital chain severed, the Su Group teetered on the brink of bankruptcy! The once aloof and proud ice queen CEO was thrown into utter panic. That very night, she went to Shen Fei's villa, casting aside all dignity to beg and plead desperately... From then on, in this world teeming with Sons of Destiny, Shen Fei embarked on a path of extreme dimensional suppression! A mountain-descending divine doctor? Peerless medical skills? Shen Fei: "Reporting you for practicing medicine without a license! I'll gladly take your ancient medicinal cauldron and twin sister assassins." The Crooked-Smiling Dragon King? Commanding a hundred thousand soldiers with a single order? Shen Fei: "Illegal assembly and suspected treason! Let a fleet of attack helicopters sanitize the area and teach you what the state apparatus really means!" A reborn tycoon? Knows all the golden opportunities of the next decade? Shen Fei: "A trillion in capital to reverse and pump the stock market, making you blow your margin and jump on the very first day of your rebirth!" What Chosen Ones? What bearers of Heavenly Fortune? In Shen Fei's eyes, they're all just chives (i.e., suckers/marks) waiting to be harvested! Shen Fei: "Sorry, but as the Destined Ultimate Villain, I don't play by the rules of honor. I only play the game of dimensional suppression."
