"Come, Xiao Chen, drink this bowl of soup. It's ginseng hen soup, specially made to nourish your body..."
Zhao Li, a woman in her fifties, carried a pot of freshly stewed hen soup to Xiao Chen.
"Auntie... I really can't drink anymore. Please let me go! I beg you!"
Xiao Chen's eyes were deeply sunken, his hair brittle, his lips purple, and his arms trembling. He looked as if he had aged a decade, his cheekbones protruding sharply. Clearly, he had been "drained" relentlessly by his vicious mother-in-law.
Xiao Chen was starting to regret it. Though he had developed some twisted affection after being tormented by Zhao Li, the current situation... might just cost him his life.
A fifty-year-old woman sucking the life out of him—like a dried-up well suddenly gushing after years of drought—was something he couldn’t handle.
And this was despite him being a grandmaster-level martial artist!
Even with the invincible Golden Body technique protecting him, he had still been reduced to this pitiful state. His body felt completely hollowed out.
"Xiao Chen, don’t worry... Young people like you recover quickly. You’ll be fine in no time..."
Zhao Li shoved a spoonful of nourishing soup into Xiao Chen’s mouth, forcing it down his throat.
"Auntie... Auntie, no more!" Xiao Chen pleaded, his voice shaking with fear.
......
"Uh... Ningxue, I might not need to do anything after all."
Jiang Che’s lips twitched as he watched the live feed hacked into the Ji family’s villa by his tech-savvy associate. The sight of Xiao Chen’s miserable state made him shudder.
His mother-in-law... was something else.
Seriously impressive!
She had reduced the so-called "Chosen One" to this state. Even most grandmasters couldn’t compare. At this rate, Xiao Chen wouldn’t last much longer under her "care." Another year or so, and they’d be holding a funeral banquet.
"Huh? What... what do you mean, Jiang Che?" Ji Ningxue frowned slightly.
Jiang Che turned his phone toward her, displaying the live footage.
"Auntie... I really can’t drink anymore..."
Ji Ningxue’s lips parted slightly as she stared at Xiao Chen’s haggard figure on the screen.
"Is... is that really Xiao Chen?"
It hadn’t even been a month. How had he ended up like this?
"Your mom is seriously terrifying. Xiao Chen is a grandmaster-level martial artist, and she’s squeezed him dry—not a drop left!" Jiang Che remarked with a smirk.
"What? My mother..." Ji Ningxue’s face flushed crimson.
But then anger surged within her. That bastard Xiao Chen had actually dared to lay hands on her mother?
It felt like a dog she had raised had suddenly turned on its master and bitten her own mother.
"Of course, judging by the video, your mom looks radiant—like an old dried-up well suddenly brimming with fresh water."
Ji Ningxue rolled her eyes. She wasn’t exactly naive and could easily decipher Jiang Che’s crude implications.
"You little rascal, stop joking about my mother!" She pinched Jiang Che’s waist lightly.
Jiang Che chuckled. "Ningxue, if you end up like your mom at her age... I don’t think I’d survive."
"Jiang Che!" Ji Ningxue gritted her teeth.
Though she wanted to smack him, she held back. After all, she had long since lost any real control over this troublemaker.
......
Jiang Family Residence, Capital City.
"Holy shit, the ancestors have blessed us!"
Jiang Yunhuang, the current head of the Jiang family, nearly dropped the incense stick he was holding in the ancestral hall.
The Jiang family’s ancestral hall housed the tablets of countless ancestors, their lineage stretching back over a thousand years.
Just now, the smoke from his incense had begun to swirl unnaturally, coalescing into a faint humanoid figure—an elderly man in ancient robes.
"You... who are you?"
The smoky figure glanced at Jiang Yunhuang. "Are you a descendant of the Jiang family?"
"Yes, I’m the current family head. Which ancestor are you? I’ll burn more incense for you... Please bless our family from the underworld, but don’t come looking for me! I just took a life-extending pill—I’m not ready to die yet..."
Jiang Yunhuang was clearly terrified of death.
The smoky figure nearly choked on his own rage.
"I’m not dead yet!"
"Not dead?" Jiang Yunhuang had lived over seventy years but had never encountered anything this bizarre.
"Correct. My name is Jiang Langsheng. Check the family records—you’ll find me."
Jiang Yunhuang blinked, then flipped through the ancestral registry.
As he searched, the old man muttered to himself, "Hmm? You’ve reached the Shattering Heaven realm? Has Earth’s spiritual energy revived?"
"But that shouldn’t be possible..."
Before the old man could ponder further, Jiang Yunhuang slammed the registry shut.
"Bullshit! There’s no ‘Jiang Langsheng’ in our records! Tell me—what kind of wandering ghost dares invade the Jiang family’s ancestral hall? I’ll make sure you can’t even stay a ghost!"
Jiang Yunhuang regained his confidence. Though he wasn’t a Taoist exorcist, dealing with a mere spirit was child’s play.
The smoky old man’s expression twisted in fury, but he could do nothing beyond that—no energy fluctuations, no power.
"You ungrateful little—!"
He took a deep breath (metaphorically). "Fine. Look up... Jiang Tiedan instead."
Even as smoke, his face seemed to flush with embarrassment.
"Jiang Tiedan?" Jiang Yunhuang frowned.
Then it hit him.
He hurriedly reopened the registry—and sure enough, there was an entry for Jiang Tiedan.
Jiang Tiedan: A Jiang family head from five hundred years ago, during an era when Earth’s spiritual pathways were still open. A peerless cultivator who dominated his age, vanishing without a trace after a breakthrough.
No way.
Was this really Jiang Tiedan? Their ancestor?
Jiang Yunhuang gulped. Had he actually stumbled upon the real deal?
It made sense. Back then, cultivators weren’t called martial artists but Daoists. Legends spoke of ascension to higher realms—though no one knew where that led.
Realization dawned, and Jiang Yunhuang dropped to his knees.
"Ancestor, your descendant pays his respects."
Centuries had passed without a single ancestral manifestation. Combined with recent events, it seemed the martial world was on the brink of upheaval.
Jiang Tiedan: "......"
rowess are unmatched, commanding a million-strong army! Yet, the Emperor wants to depose him for the sake of a false prince? Hold on, are you throwing me into some female-oriented romance plot? How can I tolerate this? With a grand wave of his hand—the Nine Clan Extraction Technique! Slander the Emperor? Very well, all of you shall die! ... The False Prince: "Although I am not the biological son, Father and Mother love me more. The throne should be mine!" The Female Lead: "Qin Xiao, you are the Emperor, and I am a commoner. If you wish to marry me, you must abdicate. Otherwise, you will never have me!" The Empress: "After we divorce, you must give me half the empire!" The Transmigrator Consort: "You worthless Emperor, why should I kneel to you? All men are equal—I advise you to be kind!" The Great General: "The enemy general is my childhood sweetheart. For her sake, I willingly abandon the frontier defenses!" The Retired Emperor: "Although Yu'er was adopted, I prefer him. Qin Xiao, you should abdicate and let him become Emperor!" ... Very well! So this is how you want to play? Facing this twisted world of female-oriented tropes, Qin Xiao grins and raises his hand to unleash—the Nine Clan Extraction Technique! I am the Emperor. Why would I bother reasoning with you? Seal the gates! Leave none alive!
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.”
lanned to earn money steadily and take life at a slower pace. But he never expected... his father's remarriage, and the stepmother bringing along a dependent, would completely disrupt his life's plans...
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.
