Zhong Yi never dreamed that his master, Zhao Wendao, the grand elder of Lingxiao Sect, would also be playing Plants vs. Zombies (Spiritual Edition).
The strategy post Zhong Yi had shared earlier had blown up so much that even Zhao Wendao saw it. From the screenshots posted by the user "Genius Cultivator," Zhao Wendao recognized his disciple’s distinctive drawing style and deduced the poster’s true identity.
Coincidentally, he had been stuck on the third level for ages, so he decided to seek Zhong Yi’s help in person.
Zhao Wendao projected the game screen into the air, and Zhong Yi guided him step-by-step on where to plant which spiritual crops. In no time, Zhao Wendao finally cleared the level.
"So that’s how you do it… Not bad, not bad. Your comprehension truly is the best among my direct disciples," Zhao Wendao stroked his beard, feeling as if a weight had been lifted from his chest. He was thoroughly satisfied.
"All thanks to your teachings, Master!" Zhong Yi replied humbly.
"Ah, one more thing—if Elder Lin comes asking for your help, don’t you dare tell him!" Zhao Wendao warned.
Zhong Yi froze. "Elder Lin is also…?"
Now he was even more baffled.
Just yesterday at the plaza, Elder Lin had been the first to dismiss Lu Ze’s illusion realm as child’s play, storming off in disdain.
And yet, he was playing it too?
"Indeed," Zhao Wendao nodded. "That old coot kept mocking me for failing the third level. Once I’ve mastered it, I’ll make sure to rub it in his face!"
"Understood, Master."
Zhong Yi quickly agreed.
He never would have imagined that two of Lingxiao Sect’s elders were both hooked on the game. It just went to show how addictive Plants vs. Zombies (Spiritual Edition) was.
If Lu Ze knew, he probably wouldn’t be too surprised.
In his past life, the year Plants vs. Zombies took the world by storm, even middle-aged and elderly folks who considered video games a scourge had become devoted players.
It was the definition of all-ages appeal.
"No resting tonight—stand by in Qingyun Pavilion! I’ll call for you if I run into trouble!"
"As you command, Master!"
……
……
The next day.
Law Enforcement Hall, Linxian Peak.
Ding Mingcang paced back and forth in the main hall, restless and uneasy.
He was sweating bullets.
He had assumed Lu Ze’s illusion realm was just some childish fruit-slicing game.
Who could’ve guessed there was more to it?
After just one hour yesterday, not a single disciple present had managed to clear it.
Rumors spread that both inner and outer sect disciples had gone wild over it.
The Artifact Refining Pavilion’s illusion training hall was opened for free, and outer sect disciples pulled all-nighters inside.
Meanwhile, the inner sect disciples’ dormitories were lit up late into the night, every one of them battling zombies.
At this rate…
He’d be sent to Reflection Valley for disciplinary seclusion!
No way!
"Elder Ding, I’ve looked into it—the situation isn’t as dire as you think."
Just as his anxiety peaked, Linxian Peak’s steward, Qian Yutang, rushed in.
"What’s the situation?" Ding Mingcang pressed.
"Many disciples did enter the illusion realm last night, but the content is limited. Most can clear it in one night."
"Some have already finished. Once they’ve beaten it, they likely won’t replay it endlessly, right?"
"Over the next six days, interest should wane, and usage time will drop sharply… So there’s no need for concern."
Qian Yutang explained.
"That’s a relief."
Ding Mingcang nodded, though his unease lingered.
Logically, no one would want to replay the same thing endlessly.
Even if some did, they’d be the exception.
But he couldn’t shake his worry.
Because Lu Ze clearly didn’t play by logic.
Most people could connect sword practice to fruit-slicing.
But who in their right mind would link fruit-slicing to planting crops—and then have those crops fight zombies?!
This world had gone mad.
"Elder Ding, there’s no need to fret. No matter how well-made the illusion realm is, disciples will eventually grow bored."
"Three thousand sword swings a day—can an illusion realm really achieve that?"
"Let’s be real, most outer sect disciples can’t even manage it. Given their numbers, that kid is bound to lose!"
Ding Mingcang found the reasoning somewhat sound.
The most fundamental sword drills were also the most tedious.
No matter how engaging Lu Ze’s illusion realm was, disciples would tire of it eventually.
Still, to be safe, he ordered:
"You’re close with Danqing Peak’s stewards, right? Have them ramp up the intensity of disciple training."
"Oh, and get the folks at Wenjian Peak involved too—tell them Lu Ze’s illusion realm is an insult to sword dao."
"If we increase the disciples’ workload, they won’t have time to obsess over illusions!"
……
……
Lu Ze hadn’t had a moment’s peace these past two days.
The Artifact Refining Pavilion was packed—not with customers seeking artifact repairs, but disciples begging for Plants vs. Zombies (Spiritual Edition) walkthroughs.
Some inner sect disciples even offered spirit stones in exchange for tips.
Lu Ze refused every request.
No way.
Right now was the golden window for farming demonic energy points.
Once players cracked the game’s mechanics and mastered plant placements, they could survive for ages on a single life.
From his observations:
After the first day’s trial-and-error, more and more disciples were clearing Adventure Mode.
Those still stuck were mostly struggling with the fifth level’s barbarian zombies or the final boss.
Survival Mode was now on their radar…
The progress aligned with Lu Ze’s expectations.
After all, Adventure Mode and the first five Survival Mode stages were near-perfect recreations of the original game’s difficulty curve.
Only the plant names and zombie designs had been tweaked.
The original’s difficulty scaling was a masterclass in game design—smooth, accessible.
Even a bunch of ancient cultivators with zero tower-defense experience could pick it up quickly.
Since releasing Plants vs. Zombies (Spiritual Edition), he’d been holed up in the Artifact Refining Pavilion, developing additional stages.
The first version he’d released days ago was intentionally incomplete.
The current Survival Mode only had five basic stages.
The advanced Hard Mode and the endless final stage were still locked.
The reason?
Lu Ze was tweaking the numbers.
His goal wasn’t to benefit cultivators—it was to harvest demonic energy.
If not for the sect contract with Ding Mingcang, he’d never have chosen Plants vs. Zombies as his second game.
Why?
Because the deaths were too slow.
If he stuck to the original stages, even the hardest endless mode would eventually be conquered.
So he took matters into his own hands.
Zombie stats, spawn rates, enemy combinations…
…
He made it brutal.
Even Lu Ze himself broke a sweat testing it.
"Perfect. This should do it."
After several test runs, he nodded in satisfaction.
The first few levels were relatively normal.
But after the fifth level, the difficulty abruptly escalated to that of the late stages in his past life.
By the thousandth level, both the number and strength of the zombies would rise even further...
Yet, he managed to keep them all within a carefully calculated limit.
Though it appeared daunting, there were still viable solutions.
The formations from his past life remained just as effective.
Thinking of what was about to unfold, Lu Ze felt a surge of delight: "When my senior brothers reach this point, they’re in for quite the surprise..."
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.”
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.
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."
ing gift was a patch of barren land, and disciples were all picked up along the way. He spent fifty years diligently building three "ramshackle little sects," thinking he could finally live a carefree life relying on his disciples. But right at the fifty-year mark, he was suddenly swept away by a spatial rift and exiled to the Chaos Desolation, the Disorderly Ruins. There was no spiritual energy there, only slaughter. Relying on the cultivation feedback from his disciples, Gu Changyuan hacked his way through a sea of blood for eleven hundred years. When the system finally fished him back out, he discovered the ramshackle little sects he'd built back then had developed a rather... unusual style. Hold on... I vanished for a thousand years, so how did my ramshackle little sects become holy lands?!
