During the half-month of Lu Ze's disappearance,
The Lingxiao Sect remained eerily calm.
The patrols by the Enforcement Hall grew increasingly strict, with particularly harsh punishments for disciples who neglected their cultivation and became obsessed with "Demonic Cult Escape."
Countless miniature illusion towers were confiscated.
Yet, despite this, the disciples continued playing in secret.
Some even formed covert squads to outwit the Enforcement Hall, using all sorts of tricks to evade detection.
The bet between Lu Ze and Ding Mingcang remained a hot topic within the sect.
"It's been half a month already. I wonder how Lu's new... illusion realm is coming along."
"Do you really believe Lu was the creator of 'Demonic Cult Escape'?"
"If you'd been there that day, you'd have seen how boldly Lu Ze stood up to Elder Ding. If he wasn’t the real designer, would he dare make such grand claims?"
"I’m not so sure. Maybe he just wanted to force Elder Ding to back down."
"I heard from a disciple in the Artifact Refining Pavilion that Lu Ze was given a task to arrange a movement technique trial for outer disciples—and only three days to do it."
"Three days? There’s no way he could’ve made 'Demonic Cult Escape' in that time!"
"So, the real designer must be someone else."
"Even if it was him, I doubt there’s another illusion realm like 'Demonic Cult Escape' in this world."
"Whether it’s him or not, I just hope he can deliver... Otherwise, we’ll never get to play miniature illusion towers again."
"I just hope 'Demonic Cult Escape' isn’t permanently banned as contraband by Elder Ding..."
Days passed one after another.
After being struck by inspiration from a falling apple, Lu Ze felt a sudden clarity.
By combining the mechanics of "Fruit Ninja" with the tower-defense mode of "Plants vs. Zombies," he was certain his new game would be explosive.
These ancient cultivators had never tasted real quality.
A simple game like "Demonic Cult Escape" had golden core and nascent soul cultivators obsessing day and night.
Now, with one of his past life’s most iconic tower-defense games, he couldn’t even imagine the outcome.
In his previous life, even veteran gamers who’d grown up with games were stunned when they first encountered "Plants vs. Zombies."
How much more so these ancient cultivators?
As a former game designer, Lu Ze had meticulously studied the mechanics and level design of countless classics.
Now, with his eidetic memory in this life, recreating them wasn’t difficult.
The story mode of "Plants vs. Zombies" had numerous levels.
Lu Ze spent a week faithfully replicating it.
Then came the localization adjustments.
For the plants, little modification was needed.
Even in a cultivation setting, the functions of each plant were easy to grasp.
The anthropomorphic expressions on the plants required no explanation—
A simple label of "spirit flora" would dispel any confusion.
In fact, cultivators would naturally assume they were "spirit flora" without prompting.
The zombies, however, required more effort.
Many overly modern elements had to be altered.
Newspapers became tattered scriptures, football helmets became general’s armor, clown outfits turned into acrobat costumes...
The entire project took about half a month.
In this illusion realm, players only needed to do two things—
First, slice away any unwanted plants or fruits.
Second, place the desired plants where they wanted them.
Lu Ze eagerly tested it himself.
To his delight, the experience was smooth.
The sunlight collection from the original game was replaced by automatically gathered spiritual energy.
The time spent collecting sunlight and selecting cards was now spent swinging a sword above the spirit field, cutting down unwanted plants and fruits.
This way—
Sword practice? Check.
Gameplay? Check.
Motivation? Check.
The only downside was that players died too slowly in this version.
The demonic energy earnings were disappointingly low.
"Ah well, consider it charity work," Lu Ze sighed.
Right now, he couldn’t afford to dwell on it.
The priority was defeating Ding Mingcang and paving the way for his future gaming empire.
Besides, in the long run, "Plants vs. Zombies" would earn him explosive popularity and a massive player base.
Once the numbers surged, he could always tighten the screws later.
With that thought, he stopped overanalyzing.
After finishing the main campaign, Lu Ze began working on minigames and survival modes...
Soon, the day of reckoning arrived.
Contrary to expectations,
Ding Mingcang didn’t handle things quietly. Instead, he made a grand spectacle of it.
He openly announced that today, in the sect’s central plaza, all disciples would witness Lu Ze’s new illusion realm together.
Many disciples whispered among themselves, suspecting Elder Ding was "fishing."
Perhaps showing up would land them on the Enforcement Hall’s watchlist for future inspections.
Suspicions aside, when the day came, disciples still flocked to Lingxiao Plaza to see the new illusion realm for themselves.
The path to the plaza was soon packed with sect members.
"Fellow cultivators, here for the new illusion trial?"
"At this point, you still believe Lu Ze was the designer?"
"If you don’t believe it, why are you going to the plaza?"
"I’m not here to believe—I’m here to watch the disaster!"
"Tsk, am I the only one hoping Elder Ding ends up in Reflection Valley thanks to Junior Brother Lu?"
"Shh... walls have ears."
"I just want to play a new illusion realm."
"Huh? What illusion realm? I just saw a crowd and came to see what’s up."
Before long, Lingxiao Plaza was packed, with latecomers forced to wait outside.
At the center of the plaza was a vast open space.
Six of the Lingxiao Sect’s seven elders—all except Elder Nangong of the Blazing Flame Peak, who was away—sat on raised platforms overlooking the area.
In the middle stood a massive illusion tower, capable of accommodating half the sect’s disciples at once.
The surrounding disciples murmured.
"Six elders gathered—something big is happening!"
"Why isn’t anything starting yet?"
"Obviously, the main event hasn’t arrived."
"Where’s Junior Brother Lu? Why isn’t he here?"
"Would he dare show up? 'Demonic Cult Escape' couldn’t have been his work!"
"Then whose was it?"
"Rumor has it Elder Ding suspects the demonic cults..."
"Why would the demonic cults have such talent? Must be a mistake."
"Definitely not Lu Ze."
"If I were him, I’d have quietly crippled my cultivation and left the sect by now... to save face."
"Junior Brother Lu... Junior Brother Lu is here!"
"He actually came?!"
A stir ran through the crowd as all eyes turned upward.
Escorted by two Enforcement Hall disciples, Lu Ze soared toward the plaza from a distance.
Under countless gazes—some awed, some skeptical, some mocking—
The black-haired young man landed lazily, stifling a yawn as he strode to the center.
As if the surrounding commotion meant nothing to him.
nd fell into a coma while saving his younger sister from an out-of-control car. He became a vegetable. No one knew that his consciousness had crossed into a world of cultivation. Over the course of sixty years, he began as the lowest kind of mine slave, struggling to survive amid mountains of corpses and seas of blood. By sheer chance, he eventually obtained the complete memories of a fallen Immortal King. Alchemy, medicine, formations, feng shui, physiognomy, artifact forging… Every great inheritance of the cultivation world was now his. But when he opened his eyes again, he discovered that ten full years had passed in the modern world. To pay for his treatment, his father had sold the family’s shop and house, leaving himself covered in lasting injuries and illness. His mother had cared for him day and night, and more than half of her hair had already turned white. His younger sister, who had been only fifteen back then, was now twenty-five. To help repay the family’s debts, she had been forced to lower her head and put on a smiling face in places of glittering lights and endless revelry. Only then did Chen Xuan understand that what he had lost was not merely ten years. He had lost the life his entire family was meant to have. The good news was that he had brought back the memories of an Immortal King’s entire lifetime. The bad news was that his soul had returned alone—his cultivation had not come with him. Spiritual energy was scarce, resources were depleted, and the modern world still had firearms, surveillance, capital, and laws. If he wanted to protect his family, break free from everyone’s control, and become truly invincible beneath the heavens, he would have to start all over again.
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.
s the Eldest Princess, renowned for her cold and aloof detachment, became the most docile of lambs, obeying his every command without question. But when the final move was played on the chessboard, as Gu Chenghan seized everything and ascended on the verge of apotheosis, that very Princess suddenly embraced him from behind, her tone carrying a dependence never heard before: "Wait... you haven't yet... commanded me to love you forever." Gu Chenghan froze abruptly. She... hadn't been hypnotized?! ... [The Eldest Princess's Diary] [When my soul was extracted, becoming the sole spectator outside my own shell] [At first, there was overwhelming fury, until I saw] [How he used my sword to effortlessly shatter my inescapable doom] [How he wielded my authority to eradicate fatal conspiracies I had never even detected] [Like a deity, he rescued me from the deep mire I was trapped in] [If not for those annoying vixens, he and I would be a match made in heaven] [I think I am ill, gravely ill] [My deity should belong to me alone] ... "Hypnosis? Oh, it succeeded, my dear Master." "Only this time, it's my turn to hypnotize you."
close your eyes and open them again, only to find yourself transmigrated into the role of a villainous male supporting character. Readers familiar with urban wish-fulfillment novels know that it is only through the relentless antics of the villainous male supporting character that the plot between the male and female leads can progress. As the villainous male supporting character, Long Aotian not only has to bully the female lead, harass the second female lead, and flirt with the third female lead, but he also has to go all out to antagonize the male lead. In the end, when his body is discovered, he is still clutching half a moldy fried dough stick in his hand. Fully aware of the plot, Long Aotian is determined to change his fate, starting with the female lead! In the beginning, the female lead lacks confidence: "Big brother, I hope I didn't scare you?" In the middle, the female lead treads carefully: "Brother Long, please don't hit me, okay?" Later on, the female lead becomes coquettishly clingy: "Aotian, it's time to pay the 'public grain' tonight." Long Aotian's legs go weak, and he feels like crying: "I taught you to be thick-skinned, not shameless!"
