In the grand hall.
Chu Xingchen sat in the seat of honor, with about twenty people currently standing before him.
The illusion array designed by Li Yingling was actually quite impressive, effectively filtering out most of those with ill intentions.
It seemed Li Yingling had indeed put in considerable effort.
Chu Xingchen mused that perhaps he should have arbitrarily kept one or two more candidates—after all, there was no way he would follow Li Yingling’s submitted plan to the letter.
Not to mention the personal biases embedded within it, just going through the formal procedures would take a month.
Chu Xingchen had no patience for such tediousness.
His gaze swept over the crowd standing in the hall. A couple of undesirables had slipped through the cracks, but he’d find some excuse to dismiss them later.
After counting the attendees, Li Yingling spoke softly, "Master, only one person hasn’t arrived yet."
Chu Xingchen shook his head slightly, signaling his indifference.
"No matter. Your master has the patience to wait a little longer."
Li Yingling believed him—his master had the temperament for it.
Before long, Zhao Wanqing led in a well-dressed young man.
Chu Xingchen glanced up as the youth stepped into the hall.
The moment the young man bent forward in a bow, before he could even straighten up, Chu Xingchen’s calm but unyielding voice rang out:
"You’re disqualified. You may leave now."
The young man looked up in shock, disbelief in his voice as he asked, "May I ask, Immortal, why?"
"Because you were the last to arrive. What did you think this opportunity was?" Chu Xingchen’s gaze was steady but carried an overwhelming pressure. "Did you think fate would wait for everyone to gather before deciding who gets what?"
"On the path of cultivation, urgency is paramount. Since you weren’t in a hurry for this chance, try again next time."
With that, Chu Xingchen waved his hand, and a surge of spiritual energy sent the young man flying out of the hall, the doors slamming shut behind him.
He had hoped the latecomer might be something special, but this?
Not only was his talent lacking, but the black-marked trait [Pyromaniac] alone made him a liability.
His sect couldn’t afford to deal with such a troublemaker—better let him wreak havoc elsewhere.
Li Yingling stole a glance at her master.
So much for patience.
He hadn’t even pretended to tolerate it.
Still, her master’s reasoning made sense, reminding her of the time he took her to steal spirit herbs…
The memory felt as fresh as yesterday.
Amusing, when she thought about it.
As the doors closed, the remaining candidates in the hall instinctively straightened their postures further.
Even Cui Hao felt a twinge of tension under the suddenly solemn atmosphere.
Chu Xingchen stood, his eyes sweeping over the group before him, then spoke in a relaxed tone:
"No need to be nervous. This second round is simple—just answer a few questions and chat with me."
With that, he leisurely walked up to Lin Luoyu, his tone noticeably gentler.
"I heard you scored full marks in the first round?"
Lin Luoyu quickly clasped her hands in response. "Yes, full marks!"
Chu Xingchen nodded approvingly.
"Good. What do you think is most important on the path of cultivation?"
Lin Luoyu pondered briefly before answering earnestly, "Perseverance and staying true to one’s heart."
"Not a bad answer. It hasn’t been easy for you, has it? I see your robes have been mended more than once." Chu Xingchen pointed at the two patches on her sleeves.
Lin Luoyu’s voice was firm. "Difficult or not, I will walk this path!"
Chu Xingchen smiled and moved to the next candidate—a short-haired girl—asking in the same tone:
"Using the Discourse on the Great Dao as a foundation, briefly explain your understanding of cultivation."
The girl froze, staring at Chu Xingchen in bewilderment.
Wait, wasn’t the difficulty spike a bit extreme here?
Why did the others get simple questions about hardships, while she was hit with Discourse on the Great Dao?
After a long pause, she gritted her teeth. "I… haven’t read Discourse on the Great Dao..."
Chu Xingchen shook his head regretfully and moved on to the next candidate—a visibly nervous young man.
"Discuss the inevitable connection between the cycle of the Great Dao and cultivators."
The man gave a bitter laugh. "I… I never studied…"
With another sigh, Chu Xingchen proceeded to the next.
"Explain..."
"I don’t know..."
"Please answer..."
"I’m not familiar with this..."
After several similarly abstract questions went unanswered, Chu Xingchen finally stopped before Cui Hao.
Studying the scholarly-looking young man, he took a moment to observe him before speaking:
"Discuss the relationship between the mortal market economy and cultivation sects."
Cui Hao blinked, then after a moment of thought, answered earnestly:
"The mortal market is the foundation. Only a stable mortal economy can sustain a cultivation sect."
"While cultivation sects aren’t entirely dependent on the mortal market, a prosperous one provides immense support."
"After all, the essence of a cultivation sect is the pursuit of the Great Dao. Often, they lack the bandwidth for mundane production. Though the mortal market has limited direct impact on cultivation resources..."
"A thriving mortal economy offers significant convenience. Repetitive and trivial tasks can be delegated to mortals."
"This allows cultivation sects to allocate their resources more efficiently, focusing on endeavors beyond mortal capability—thus enhancing the sect’s overall productivity."
"Therefore, I believe any cultivation sect aiming for long-term stability must foster a prosperous and stable mortal market."
Chu Xingchen’s eyes flickered with surprise. Though the answer was straightforward, it wasn’t wrong.
Well, well. You actually knew this one?
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.”
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."
u Chenyuan transmigrated into a female-oriented novel about a real and fake heiress, becoming the CEO elder brother of both. Unfortunately, the entire Lu family—including himself, the CEO—were mere cannon fodder in the story. Determined to save himself, Lu Chenyuan took action. The spoiled, attention-seeking fake heiress? Thrown into the harsh realities of the working class to learn humility. The love-struck real heiress? Pushed toward academic excellence, so lofty goals would blind her to trivial romances. As for the betrayed, vengeful arranged marriage wife… the plot hadn’t even begun yet. There was still time—if he couldn’t handle her, he could at least avoid her. "CEO Lu, are you avoiding me?" Mo Qingli fixed her gaze on Lu Chenyuan. For the first time, the shrewd and calculating Lu Chenyuan felt a flicker of unease.
e bizarre and supernatural had descended. The previous emperor was a thoroughgoing tyrant; no longer satisfied with human women, he had set his sights on a stunningly beautiful supernatural entity. He met his end in his bedchamber, drained of all his vital essence. As the legitimate eldest son and crown prince, Wang Hao was thus hastily enthroned, becoming the young emperor of the Great Zhou Dynasty. No sooner had he awakened the "Imperial Sign-In Intelligence System" than he was assassinated by a Son of Destiny—a classic villain's opening. The Great Zhou, ravaged by the former emperor's excesses, was in national decline. The great families within its borders harbored their own treacherous schemes, martial sects began to defy the imperial court's decrees, and border armies, their pay and provisions in arrears, grumbled incessantly against the central government. Fortunately, the central capital was still held secure by the half-million Imperial Guards and fifty thousand Imperial Forest Army who obeyed the court's orders, along with the royal family's hidden reserves of power, barely managing to suppress the realm. As the Great Zhou's finances worsened and supernatural activities grew ever more frequent, the court sat atop a volcano. Ambitious plotters everywhere dreamed of overthrowing the dynasty, and even some reclusive ancient powers emerged, attempting to sway the tides of the world. At the first grand court assembly, the civil and military officials nearly came to blows, fighting tooth and nail over the allocation of fifty million taels of silver from the summer tax revenues. The spectacle opened Wang Hao's eyes—the Great Zhou's bureaucracy was not only corrupt but also martially proficient, a cabinet of all-rounders. Some officials even had the audacity to suggest the emperor release funds from the imperial privy purse to address the emergency. Wang Hao suddenly felt weary. Let it all burn.
