"So you're that Chen Feng?"
"I heard you scammed two beautiful young girls!"
"One of them is even an exchange student from Korea, right?"
"Way to embarrass us internationally."
"Didn’t the Martial Arts Guild promise to give us an explanation?"
"Yeah! Yeah! Why hasn’t this guy been arrested yet?"
...
The bus instantly erupted into chaos.
Chen Feng was speechless.
He never expected to find himself in this situation.
"Looks like I can’t stay on this bus any longer."
"What a waste—I just paid two bucks and only rode three stops."
As soon as the bus pulled over, Chen Feng hurriedly got off, eager to escape the commotion.
But of all the luck—
The middle-aged man who’d been berating him happened to be getting off at the same stop.
Spotting Chen Feng, the man continued his tirade:
"Young man, I suggest you tread carefully."
"Walk the night path too often, and you’ll run into trouble."
As a father—and a fiercely protective one at that—he despised scumbags who preyed on young women.
Especially pretty-boy con artists like Chen Feng, who’d probably ruin countless girls’ lives.
Chen Feng was beyond annoyed. He’d planned to switch buses at this stop,
but the man clung to him like a stubborn stain, even following him off the bus.
To shake him off, Chen Feng decided to splurge on a taxi instead.
Time was running out—he had to reach Jiangcheng City’s Martial Arts Guild by 9 a.m.
Ignoring the man, Chen Feng turned and strode briskly in the opposite direction,
hoping to lose him before hailing a ride.
But fate had other plans. The man’s workplace happened to be in the same direction,
so he kept trailing Chen Feng like a shadow.
Exasperated, Chen Feng ducked into a nearby park.
As luck would have it, the man was a security guard there.
Before starting his shift, he couldn’t resist one last jab:
"Running away now? Finally feeling ashamed?"
Chen Feng had had enough. Whirling around, he snapped:
"Old man! Are you done yet?"
"I’ve held my tongue long enough."
"You don’t even know the truth—why are you so sure I’m a scammer?"
The guard, convinced of his moral superiority,
rolled up his sleeves at the audacity of this "girl-deceiving trash" talking back.
"Daring to mouth off to me?"
"Kid, I’ll teach you some manners today."
With that, he swung a slap at Chen Feng.
As a professional security guard with high standards, the man wasn’t usually quick to violence.
But he’d seen those viral videos—Chen Feng was a complete non-combatant, with zero qi-blood value.
Calling him "ordinary" would be generous.
Even regular folks usually had some qi-blood.
Only those with congenital illnesses or severe disabilities registered as zero.
This guard, however, was no ordinary man.
His qi-blood level exceeded 200—a full-fledged martial artist.
Decades of Tai Chi training honed his skills to near-perfection.
To him, this qi-less weakling was barely worth his time.
But even a clay idol has its temper.
After enduring insults the entire ride and now facing physical attack,
Chen Feng stopped holding back.
With a single motion, he unleashed the 18th technique of the Dragon-Subduing Palm:
Tail of the Divine Dragon!
Having mastered the art to its pinnacle—the 9th Realm of Martial Dao, Harmony of Heaven and Man—
a casual flick of his palm summoned eighteen golden dragons into being.
A deafening dragon roar echoed through the air. Before the security guard could even process what was happening, he was sent flying over ten meters with a single palm strike, ending up dangling from the branches of a small tree.
Staring at the uncle now hanging from the distant tree, Chen Feng was momentarily stunned.
Snapping back to reality, he rushed over in a panic.
He carefully helped the barely conscious man down from the branches.
"Uncle, don’t scare me like this!"
"Uncle, I’m sorry!"
"Please don’t die on me!"
Chen Feng was terrified.
If he accidentally killed someone, he’d become a murderer.
The guard coughed up a mouthful of blood, barely managing to catch his breath.
"You… weren’t you supposed to have zero Qi and Blood?"
Seeing the man still breathing, Chen Feng quietly sighed in relief.
"Uncle, that’s all just internet gossip."
"You fell for the rumors."
"I didn’t expect you to be so weak—I didn’t mean to hit you that hard. It was self-defense."
The guard took a few labored breaths before slowly standing up.
At that moment, the rumors were utterly debunked.
After steadying himself, the uncle muttered weakly,
"I knew it! No one with zero Qi and Blood could’ve registered a martial arts school."
Chen Feng thought to himself,
"With enough money, anything’s possible."
The uncle was an easygoing man.
Now he realized Chen Feng wasn’t the useless loser the internet made him out to be.
That single palm strike had shattered his decades of Tai Chi training without any resistance.
And those eighteen golden dragon phantoms? That was clearly the manifestation of a martial arts technique refined to an extraordinarily high level—a true martial intent.
"My apologies, young man. This old man misjudged you."
"I owe you an apology."
"But I’m curious—how high has your Qi and Blood reached at such a young age?"
Chen Feng couldn’t help but think this uncle had a masochistic streak.
One slap, and suddenly he was all polite.
"I’m just a Martial Apprentice right now."
The uncle chuckled.
"Fine, keep your secrets."
"This old man’s at the early-stage Martial Artist level, with 251 Qi and Blood. My Tai Chi has reached the fifth realm—Precision and Subtlety."
"Yet you defeated me in one strike. You must be at least a late-stage Martial Artist, maybe even an Elite Martial Artist."
Chen Feng was taken aback.
He hadn’t expected this unassuming uncle to already be a Martial Artist.
And he certainly hadn’t anticipated that his Heaven-Man Unity realm Eighteen Subduing Dragon Palms could effortlessly overpower a Martial Artist.
Thinking it over, Chen Feng wiped cold sweat from his brow.
"If this uncle weren’t a Martial Artist, that hit wouldn’t have just sent him into a tree."
"It would’ve sent him to the grave."
Now he had a rough grasp of his own strength.
He’d need to hold back in the future.
If he accidentally killed someone with a casual strike, he’d be in deep trouble.
During the taxi ride to the Martial Arts Association, Chen Feng kept reflecting.
He also planned how much strength to display once he arrived.
At the very least, he shouldn’t reveal his Heaven-Man Unity realm.
According to this world’s common knowledge, those who could master any martial art to the Heaven-Man Unity realm—regardless of the technique’s tier—were exceptionally rare.
Anyone who reached that level was either a legendary master or a martial saint.
Given his current Qi and Blood level and age, showing such unreasonable power would raise too many questions.
Better to keep a low profile.
At exactly 9:00 AM, Chen Feng arrived at the plaza in front of the Martial Arts Association headquarters.
Stepping out of the car, he immediately frowned.
"Why are there so many people here?"
"And why is there a stage set up? Is the Martial Arts Association holding some event 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?!
ut it can buy an entire year of absolutely perfect training results! Su Yu stared at his empty wallet and decisively opened up various online loan platforms. “Borrow a thousand bucks! Recharge my vitality!” Boom! His vitality broke a hundred points, shattering the limits of the human body! “Borrow ten thousand bucks! Recharge my combat skills!” Boom! A basic punching technique so common it was everywhere instantly maxed out, revealing the ultimate assassination technique of Five Elements Unity—Inner Force! When a rich kid hired assassins for a midnight ambush, aiming to break both of his legs, they instead ran headfirst into a monster—a human-shaped tyrannosaur, brimming with dragon-like vitality. With just two fingers, Su Yu snapped a steel staff reinforced with alloy. Staring at the killer’s stash of stolen cash—a staggering quarter-million dollars—he showed a corporate-sincere smile: “Thanks for the pre-exam gift pack, Mr. Zhao! I’m gonna go re-invest this!” Three days later, at the National Martial Arts College Entrance Exam, while everyone else struggled just to reach the passing line, Su Yu threw a single punch—and more than a thousand vitality points literally detonated the entire arena!
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!"
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.”
