What the hell is this

Watching the familiar faces fall dead before him,

An Yi wore a desolate expression as he murmured, "This dream feels so real."

Two years ago, to protect the three thousand disciples of the Night Gate,

he had chosen to plead guilty.

As a result, those so-called gods stripped him of his spiritual veins, turning him into a cripple, and imprisoned him in the Skyreach Tower.

He had thought it was all over.

But he never expected these gods would hunt the Night Gate to extinction.

The lofty deities finally tore off their hypocritical masks and began the slaughter.

All three thousand Night Gate disciples perished in battle!

The Grand Elder, An Jianyi, carried his broken body to the top floor of the Skyreach Tower.

There, they accidentally uncovered the tower’s secret.

But An Jianyi was slain.

An Yi fled to this unfamiliar world, where Aunt Zhou fished him out of the moat.

This was how the original world’s events had unfolded.

One wrong step, and everything had spiraled into ruin!

Those self-proclaimed gods were the most despicable beings of all!

"An Yi! Do you admit your guilt?"

Di Feng’s voice boomed like thunder.

The executioners’ blades paused mid-swing.

Slaughtering everyone wasn’t his goal.

The exalted gods were meant to be sacred, not bloodthirsty butchers!

Such brutality would only tarnish their divine reputation!

An Yi sneered, "Why stop now?"

As he spoke,

the chains binding him began to tremble.

A surge of dark spiritual energy coiled around him like a serpent.

Silently, the chains corroded and dissolved.

"Stop him—quick!"

Panicked, the onlookers scrambled to rally the gods for a counterattack.

An Yi raised his hand, unleashing a wave of black light that devoured the golden lightning streaking across the sky—and swallowed a white-robed elder whole.

Then, with a flick of his wrist, he sent two monstrous dark dragons crashing into the crowd, unleashing carnage.

Even bystanders at the periphery weren’t spared.

"He’s gone mad! Stop him!"

"It’s no use—we can’t resist!"

Watching the terrified crowd, An Yi grinned in twisted nostalgia. "Ah, this power feels just right."

Razor-sharp demonic energy coiled around him.

He slashed a blade of darkness toward Di Feng.

Di Feng’s golden aura flared, blocking the strike.

The entire Skyreach Tower quaked.

Amid the violent tremors, no one survived—annihilation was absolute.

Di Feng teleported before An Yi, looking down at him with a cold smirk. He raised two fingers to his forehead.

A golden vertical eye glowed between them, divine light pulsing—before suddenly ejecting streams of white liquid, grotesque and absurd.

"Hey, cut it out. That’s just disgusting. Too fake. I don’t even know what that guy’s third eye is for—this ‘spray attack’ is pure nonsense I made up!"

An Yi glanced at the crumbling world and scoffed. "What a cheap-ass setting."

Dark energy coalesced into a spear in his grasp.

With one swing,

the spear split reality itself.

A flash of white light—

and An Yi broke free from the illusion.

After Junzi’s death,

Lin Chen charged toward the source of the artillery fire, dagger in hand.

His blade danced,

each strike claiming a life.

His agile figure moved like a ghost through the night.

In mere moments, over a dozen men had fallen to his knife.

The mercenaries gripping their rifles stared in disbelief.

"How the hell can’t we hit him? This has to be fake!"

Lin Chen pushed through the crowd ahead, his eyes locked onto the gray-haired man wearing a ring. With a swift motion, he swung his blade horizontally!

Clang!

The bayonet was blocked!

The man with the ring on his hand and short gray hair raised his face.

The mastermind behind the slaughter of their Wolf Fang mercenaries was about to be revealed!

Lin Chen's pupils contracted, his expression one of shock.

That face—it was actually...

Pixelated?

"Damn it!"

Lin Chen thrust his bayonet straight into the face of the pixelated mastermind.

His cold expression grew even frostier.

Then it hit him—he was still inside the Hongtian Secret Realm. Everything before him was an illusion!

A blinding white light flashed before his eyes.

When Lin Chen opened them again, he found himself standing in an eerie darkness.

He glanced around, disoriented.

Behind him was the mirror-like barrier he had just passed through.

Had he only just crossed over?

That long, nightmarish memory—had it only lasted an instant?

Staring at the oppressive dark sky, Lin Chen realized the illusion had dragged him into his most painful memory.

At that moment, Su Xue'er stepped into view before him.

She blinked, then raised her hand as if to slap him.

"Look closely—it's me!"

Lin Chen caught her wrist, his voice firm.

Su Xue'er snapped out of it, quickly apologizing, "Sorry, sorry, Ah Chen. I thought I was still in the illusion."

Rarely showing tenderness, Lin Chen softened his tone. "It's alright. Everything’s over now."

The illusion must have dredged up her worst memories too. No wonder she was shaken.

Su Xue'er stayed silent.

In the illusion, she had relived a painful childhood moment—a cold-faced, aloof little boy mocking her for looking "dorky and stupid" in glasses.

So...

She had slapped him over twenty times!

Lin Chen turned his attention to the wall ahead, his brow furrowing in confusion.

Strange symbols and drawings covered its surface, resembling ancient script.

As he walked along, studying them, his gaze froze on one particular carving.

"No mistake—Qi Control Technique!"

Lin Chen took a deep breath, steadying his excitement.

This was what Cheng Yuanfeng had come to the secret realm to find!

He scrutinized it repeatedly, and suddenly, the once-obscure passages made perfect sense.

"So this is how Qi Control works..."

Then it struck him—where was that old man?

As if remembering his so-called master, Lin Chen turned to Su Xue'er. "Have you seen the old geezer?"

Su Xue'er shook her head.

Lin Chen stared at the mirror-like barrier, frowning.

"He didn’t come out!"

---

"Could you help me get that electric stove down from the kitchen cabinet? It hasn’t been used in ages."

Chen Bing went to the kitchen, set up a stepladder, and rummaged through the cluttered cabinet. "Mrs. Hu, I don’t see any stove up here. It’s a mess."

"Then come down and hold the ladder steady. Let me check—maybe I forgot where I put it."

As Mrs. Hu climbed up, Chen Bing glanced up and got an unmistakably clear view up her skirt.

"Ugh, it’s really not here..."

She searched for a while before looking down, about to speak, only to catch Chen Bing staring.

Mrs. Hu quickly descended, flustered. "You little rascal, behave yourself!"

Chen Bing felt dazed.

This didn’t feel real—since when did he do such shameless things?

Then Mrs. Hu handed him a cola.

As they drank, Chen Bing unexpectedly offered to give Mrs. Hu a massage.

As he kneaded her shoulders, he suddenly noticed her breathing grow steady and slow, as if she had drifted into a deep sleep.

Seeing no reaction from her, Chen Bing stealthily shifted his hands away from her shoulders, letting them wander downward toward her back and hips.

Her skin was smooth and delicate, unlike that of a woman who had borne two children.

Wait—

What the hell was this nonsense?

Would he really stoop to such despicable behavior?

Dark lines creased Chen Bing’s forehead as a blinding white light flashed before his eyes—he forcefully broke free from the illusion!