New Member Joins

In the restaurant.

Ziyue, who was starving, wolfed down her food while cautiously sneaking glances at the two men locked in a staring contest.

An Yi crossed his arms, eyeing Xiao Ye coldly. "If I’m not mistaken, that bandage over your eyes is to hide those red irises of yours, isn’t it?"

During the battle at the Pleasure Sect, the guy he killed—Que Feng—had the same crimson eyes. Covering them up was just a way to avoid drawing attention.

Xiao Ye smiled gently. "They are indeed blood pupils, but I really am blind."

"How many fingers am I holding up?" An Yi waved two fingers in front of Xiao Ye’s face.

"Two!"

"You bastard, you can see!" An Yi snapped, furious. Was this guy messing with him?

"My eyes are naturally like this, but I have divine sense. I can perceive my surroundings," Xiao Ye replied calmly.

An Yi raised an eyebrow.

Whatever. He couldn’t wrap his head around this so-called "blindness."

"Why are you looking for me?" An Yi asked, lounging with one leg crossed over the other.

This guy was the so-called "Child of Destiny," but everything about him was strange.

And most importantly—he was from the Prison Historian Clan.

An Yi hated those people.

Xiao Ye spoke evenly. "I heard someone speaking the language of the Ancient Continent, so I came to investigate. I didn’t expect it to be you."

"You know me?" An Yi’s expression turned odd.

Xiao Ye nodded, his tone solemn. "The Night Emperor of the 72nd generation of the Night Gate—An Yi."

At that name, Ziyue’s bowl slipped from her hands, clattering to the floor as rice scattered everywhere. She stared at An Yi in shock.

This shameless guy… was the Night Emperor?!

Wasn’t he supposed to have been executed in the Skyreach Tower?!

The language of the Ancient Continent was different from the Great Xia tongue of this world. When An Yi had told Ziyue his name, he’d used the local language, so she hadn’t recognized his identity.

But in the Ancient Continent, everyone knew the name An Yi.

Ziyue’s face paled. She suddenly regretted all the times she’d bickered with him.

Even after being exposed, An Yi remained unruffled. "So, are you here to capture me?"

"No."

Xiao Ye’s voice was steady. "You shattered the Skyreach Tower. I was caught in the backlash and dragged into this world."

"Wait, that was the top of the tower. What were you doing up there?" An Yi narrowed his eyes. That place shouldn’t have had anyone.

Xiao Ye remained unfazed. "Checking in."

An Yi: "…?"

This guy was getting weirder by the second.

Xiao Ye chuckled. "I have a request."

An Yi shrugged. "Go ahead. Doesn’t mean I’ll agree."

"You will."

Xiao Ye smiled. "I want to join the Asura Sect."

An Yi’s eyes lit up.

Was he delivering himself on a silver platter?

Ding!

[Xiao Ye] requests to join [Asura Sect]. Accept?

Hearing the system’s voice, An Yi realized that joining the sect now required permission?!

He checked the system and saw that his reputation had quietly skyrocketed over the past few days.

Finally, some dignity as a sect leader!

Before this, anyone could waltz in and take whatever position they wanted. What kind of leader was he then?

Accept!

An Yi confirmed.

Xiao Ye was now a member of the Asura Sect.

Ding!

[Xiao Ye] (Child of Destiny—Incomplete) requests to join your faction. Accept?

Without hesitation, An Yi tapped Reject.

This guy, like Fang Jueming, had the potential to become his subordinate—but his "Destiny Value" was still a smidge short. Once it maxed out, he could recruit him properly.

Lin Chen, look at this guy’s attitude! Don’t you feel ashamed?!

"Why suddenly join my faction?" An Yi asked, still suspicious.

Xiao Ye answered plainly. "Mission."

"Whose mission?"

An Yi caught the odd phrasing.

Xiao Ye fell silent.

Clearing his throat, An Yi smoothly changed the subject. "You’re from the Prison Historian Clan, yet you’re following me now. Isn’t that a problem?"

"The Night Gate were the Ancient Continent’s guardians. They shouldn’t have been wiped out. You’re not the criminal—the ones who call themselves ‘gods’ are." Xiao Ye’s voice was firm.

Every member of the Skyreach Tower’s Prison Historian Clan knew this.

But for the sake of profit, they had turned a blind eye and sided with those so-called gods.

An Yi fell quiet for a moment before smirking out the window. "If they find out I’m still alive… won’t they be so disappointed?"

Back at the hotel.

Ziyue kept her head down, stealing nervous glances at An Yi without saying a word.

Noticing how the usually loudmouthed girl had turned into a timid little quail, An Yi couldn’t help but laugh.

"What’s wrong? Am I that scary?"

Ziyue nodded carefully. "…Yeah."

An Yi sighed.

This was the downside of fame and status—it made ordinary people uneasy, like they were standing at the foot of an insurmountable mountain.

"Relax. I’m still me."

He patted Ziyue’s head reassuringly.

Hearing that, she mustered her courage and clung to his arm again, smiling faintly.

She had to be afraid!

In their world, An Yi was practically synonymous with evil—a heinous criminal condemned by the Skyreach Tower itself.

Anyone associated with him would be arrested and executed.

Her elder sister had once admitted to admiring the Night Emperor, An Yi. Their father had turned pale and locked her in solitary confinement for a month.

But in this world, no one knew who An Yi was.

And after spending time with him…

Sure, he was shameless and had questionable tastes, but he wasn’t the monster legends made him out to be.

At the entrance, a dog sat puffing on a cigarette.

Ziyue immediately hid behind An Yi.

"Well? Get anything useful?" Da Hong asked.

An Yi shrugged. "Picked up some clues. Next stop—the Immortal Sect’s pocket realm."

Hongtian stubbed out his cigarette, muttering, "What the hell’s a ‘pocket realm’? Never heard of it."

Back in the room, An Yi checked on Fang Jueming and Lin Chen’s injuries.

"Good news—Jueming’s healing fast. Another week and he’ll be back on his feet."

As he changed Fang Jueming’s bandages, the latter grinned foolishly. "Master’s the best!"

"Next time you punch a spiked club with your bare fists, I’m removing your brain. Who the hell taught you that?!"

An Yi rolled his eyes. Fang Jueming scratched his head sheepishly.

Then, he moved to Lin Chen’s bedside.

"Got good news and bad news. Which do you want first?"

Lin Chen frowned. "What’s the bad news?"

"You won’t recover for at least a year."

An Yi sighed dramatically.

Lin Chen pondered. "And the good news?"

"I bought you the most expensive wheelchair in the capital!"

With a flourish, An Yi pulled an exquisitely crafted wheelchair from his storage space.

"Pretty nice, huh?"

Lin Chen: "…"