Dragon King Mountain.
The Old Dragon King, lying weakly on the bed with a pale complexion, suddenly opened his eyes. His bloodshot eyes were filled with exhaustion, and patches of corpse spots had already appeared on his body.
"Luo Ying... is dead!!!"
The Old Dragon King staggered up from the bed in disbelief. He covered his mouth as blood continuously coughed out from his lips. His expression was one of utter shock.
Just moments ago, he had sensed Luo Ying's death.
How?
How was this possible?
Luo Ying had gone to find the one with great fortune, hadn't he?
As a 'Dragon Servant' of the Dragon King Palace, his very existence was tied to the fate of the Eastern Nation. As long as his soul remained intact, he should have been able to revive indefinitely!
Wait...
The Old Dragon King seemed to realize something.
The soul?
Could it be...?
His pupils constricted.
Panicked, he roared toward the outside, "Someone! Someone, come here!!"
As his voice faded—
Buzz... buzz... buzz!!
One after another, figures with hollow eyes appeared around the Old Dragon King's room through spatial fluctuations.
Seeing this, the Old Dragon King's frantic heart finally settled slightly. He gradually regained his composure.
It's fine.
As long as I hold the authority of the Dragon King Palace, things won't reach the worst possible outcome.
That's right...
As long as I relocate, I will always have the last laugh!
Every generation of the Night King had been worn down by him in this manner.
Now, at the most critical moment of his plan, immortality was his top priority.
Nothing—no one—could stand in his way.
Not even the Night King.
The Old Dragon King had already considered a terrifying possibility.
Who could destroy Luo Ying's soul?
Wasn't it only the Night King?
The Night King's dagger could extract a person's memories—memories imprinted on the soul itself.
Everything stored within a soul would be laid bare before the Night King.
Thus, the Old Dragon King realized that his current location was no longer safe.
He had to relocate immediately.
His gaze swept over the assembled figures before settling on a man in white robes.
"Su Yi, prepare the reincarnation ritual at once!"
"I must... transfer my soul into Ning Qian's body ahead of schedule!!"
Cough... cough... cough!!
As he spoke, the Old Dragon King coughed up more blood. His expression darkened.
Damn it.
Ning Qian's body wasn't fully healed yet. The risks of reincarnation were immense.
But his current body was already on the verge of collapse.
He had no choice but to proceed.
Moreover, he could only reincarnate once a year. Given the sudden turn of events, if he were to recklessly possess a vessel with poor aptitude, the accumulated fortune he had gathered would be diluted—rendering years of effort wasted.
There was no other way...
Ning Qian, I've raised you for so long.
It's time for you to make your sacrifice.
Don't blame your master. All of this is for my immortality.
......
Drip... drip...
In a dimly lit stone cavern, droplets of water fell from the walls onto the ground.
Ning Qian slowly opened her eyes, dazed, as she glanced around.
The place felt familiar.
"Where... is this?"
She murmured to herself.
The next moment—
Her eyes widened in shock.
She realized her hands and feet were bound to a stone slab. Beside her, another empty stone slab lay waiting, as if prepared for someone else.
At the same time, her breathing was weak—her injuries from before had yet to heal.
She remembered now.
Earlier, Master Long Ning had tried to take her back to Dragon King Mountain, but with Sister Ling'er in the mortal world, she had refused.
In the standoff, Long Ning had struck her down and forcibly brought her here.
"Why... Why would Master Long Ning do this to me?"
Her heart ached, but before she could dwell on it—
She had to break free from these restraints.
Yet, the bindings seemed imbued with some unnatural rule, making escape impossible.
Then—
A frail yet familiar voice reached her ears.
"Give up, child..."
"There's no escaping this."
!!!
Ning Qian froze. She turned her head.
There, standing beside her, was none other than her revered master—the Old Dragon King.
Blood trickled from his facial features, his eyes burning with urgency.
His state sent a chill down Ning Qian's spine.
"Mas... Master?"
The Old Dragon King didn't respond. Instead, he addressed the white-robed man.
"Begin, Su Yi."
With that, he lay down on the stone slab beside Ning Qian.
Su Yi nodded and pushed the Old Dragon King's slab to a designated spot.
Everything felt surreal.
The once-familiar master and disciples now seemed like strangers, filling Ning Qian with terror.
"Master! Master, what are you doing?!"
"Master!?"
But no matter how loudly she screamed—
No one answered.
Su Yi approached and pushed Ning Qian's slab to the ritual site.
And there—
Ning Qian saw it.
A grotesque stone statue loomed above her, its crimson eyes staring down as though alive, its mouth stretched into an unnatural grin.
"Ning Qian, the one lying here was supposed to be your senior brother."
"But alas... he perished."
"All my years of nurturing him... wasted. But no matter. You, Ning Qian, shall take his place..."
"And fulfill my grand scheme of reincarnation!!"
The Old Dragon King calmly revealed the truth.
During possession, if the target's will wavered, the success rate would increase.
Sure enough—
Ning Qian's mind blanked at his words.
"Senior brother... is dead?"
"Reincarnation?"
"Master, what are you saying? What do you mean?"
Her voice trembled, her expression stiff.
"Didn't you always say we were fighting for world peace?"
"Didn't you say our enemy was the Night King?"
"But what you're doing now... How is this any different from the heretics?!"
Heretics—
A faction distinct from both orthodox and demonic martial artists.
Their methods were cruel, their actions horrifying.
They were the enemies of all living beings.
Yet, the Old Dragon King had heard such words too many times across his reincarnations.
No emotion stirred within him.
"Ning Qian, you were merely a pawn in my quest for immortality."
He sighed bitterly.
"If the Night King hadn't killed Xiao Lin, you wouldn't have become my vessel."
"Blame... the Night King for this."
"Begin, Su Yi."
"As you command."
The moment the words fell—
Buzz!!
The stone statue's eyes began to glow.
As the light bathed Ning Qian's face—
Thud!!!
A horrifying scene unfolded before their eyes.
The stone statue in front of them suddenly stretched out its hands!
In an instant, it pressed them firmly against the crowns of Ning Qian and the Old Dragon King’s heads!!
Ning Qian’s heart felt as if it had been seized, and something deep within her body seemed to be forcibly dragged outward!
A thought flashed through Ning Qian’s mind—
Her soul!
Her soul… was being ripped out?!
Terror twisted her expression.
Meanwhile, the Old Dragon King’s original body had already gone completely lifeless.
His soul, which had absorbed the fortunes of countless chosen ones, was now clutched in the eerie stone statue’s grasp.
[Need… a sacrifice…]
Creeeak—
The statue’s mouth stretched open, releasing a bone-chilling laugh.
Now a spectral entity, the Old Dragon King reluctantly tore off a portion of his fortune-laden soul and fed it into the statue’s gaping maw.
[Deal… struck.]
As if savoring an exquisite delicacy, the statue’s eyes gleamed with satisfaction.
The ritual continued.
Ning Qian, realizing her master intended to possess her body, was overwhelmed with despair.
The person who flashed through her mind wasn’t a friend, nor was it her senior brother, Xiao Lin.
But rather…
Sister Ling’er…
I never got to confess my feelings to you…
Ning Qian surrendered to her fate.
The monstrous truth about her master left her utterly broken.
Buzz—
In moments,
Ning Qian’s soul was wrenched free, her body left vacant, her eyes dull and lifeless.
Meanwhile, the Old Dragon King’s spirit, still gripped by the statue, inched closer to Ning Qian’s empty vessel.
Excitement burned in the Old Dragon King’s spectral form.
Almost there! Just a little more!
Soon, he would claim this young genius’s body as his own!
As for Ning Qian’s soul?
Hah.
By the ritual’s end, it too would be offered up as the statue’s final feast.
But then—!! In that very instant—
“Found you.”
A voice, icy and dripping with killing intent, echoed through the ritual chamber.
The Old Dragon King’s pupils shrank—Who was that?!
The next moment—
BOOM!!!
CRASH!!!
[GAAAH—!!!]
With a deafening roar, the stone statue let out a wretched scream.
Under the Old Dragon King’s disbelieving, wide-eyed stare—
The statue… was shattered into fragments… by a single, frenzied slash…
“What?!!”
The Old Dragon King’s spirit shrieked in terror.
The ritual—halted.
The statue… destroyed?!
Cheng's father told him he was getting remarried—to a wealthy woman. Cao Cheng realized his time had finally come: he was about to become a second-generation rich kid. Sure, it might be a watered-down version, but hey, at least he'd have status now, right? The wealthy woman also had four daughters!! Which meant, starting today, Cao Cheng gained four stunning older sisters?? But that wasn't even the whole story... "My name is Cao Cheng—'Cheng' as in 'honest, smooth-talking gentleman'!"
pression Bureau] Transported to a fantasy world overrun by demons and monsters, Gu Qingfeng becomes a jailer in the Demon Suppression Prison of the Great Yan Dynasty's Demon Suppression Bureau. From this point on, bizarre cases frequently occur in the Demon Suppression Prison, once known as hell on earth and infamous for its gloomy, terrifying atmosphere! Why do the demons and monsters in the prison wail miserably every night? Why has the corpse demon, capable of transforming into various beauties, donned black stockings and switched careers to become a foot massage therapist? Why has the eye demon, expert in soul-snatching and illusions, turned into a VR headset? Why is the fox spirit performing otaku dances? Are all these occurrences a twisted expression of demonic nature, or a descent into moral depravity? After peeling away layer upon layer of mystery, all clues ultimately point to a jailer named Gu Qingfeng. Gu Qingfeng: "Hehehe... My dear demons and monsters, whose card shall we flip today?"
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?!
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.”
