"Buying things requires money, stealing doesn't."
"When you see someone chasing you, run."
"You can take things from dogs, no one cares."
The skinny child counted these things on his fingers, when suddenly his stomach growled. He frowned, knowing he was hungry, and began walking through the small alley towards the end of the cobblestone lane.
A light rain fell from the sky, drizzling steadily, accompanied by a misty fog, giving the scene a touch of the smoky rain typical of regions south of the Yangtze River.
The skinny child, however, couldn't appreciate such things. He only knew he was hungry and needed to eat.
The meat bun shop at the end of the cobblestone alley was very good, although every time he went to steal, he would get a severe beating. But the child would recover in a couple of days, so exchanging a beating for meat buns was a fair trade.
He walked barefoot, wearing tattered clothes, squeezing between pedestrians as he headed towards the end of the alley.
On the way, he passed the old tree teahouse, where a chessboard was set up at the entrance.
The child stopped for some reason, putting his hands behind his back, looking at the chess game with interest. Suddenly, he shook his head and said,
"This won't work, you need to move the horse at the beginning."
"Get lost, you little brat, move your own horse!" The chess players waved their hands to shoo the child away, pretending to hit him.
The child naturally ran away, winding his way to the bun shop, looking greedily at the fragrant buns in the steamer.
He had no money, so he naturally had to use other means.
First, going up and taking them directly wouldn't work, because that wasn't stealing, that was robbery, and if caught, he'd be hanged in the marketplace.
He had to steal quietly, unnoticed if possible, and if discovered, it would just mean another beating.
If he could steal meat buns, that would be a win. If he got sugar buns, that would be a loss.
Because even dogs wouldn't eat sugar buns.
Literally, dogs wouldn't eat them.
He hid by the wall, not seen by the bun shop owner, otherwise he'd get a beating right away, as he was a repeat offender.
Waiting for the shop owner to get busy, he would crouch and quickly walk out, preferably using both hands and feet, a technique he learned from dogs.
The key was to be unexpected.
He moved extremely fast, causing a disturbance in the crowded market.
In a nearby luxurious restaurant above, at a table of three, a woman resting her head on her hand looked down with boredom, suddenly tilting her head, her eyes lighting up with curiosity as she gazed with interest.
The child, taking advantage of the bustling market, crawled to the bottom of the bun shop. With no time to choose, he grabbed the entire steamer and ran.
The bun shop owner saw it all and couldn't help but curse,
"Son of a bitch!"
You little bastard, if you're going to steal buns, just steal the buns, why the hell did you take my steamer too, you little shit!
The skinny child, carrying the heavy steamer, obviously couldn't run far and was quickly caught.
The bun shop owner grabbed his head and cursed again,
"You little beast, didn't get enough of a beating last time, huh? No father to teach you, no mother to raise you, you don't even know who you are, can't even say a word when asked, looking like an idiot, but so quick when it comes to stealing!"
The child had his own thoughts. Knowing he couldn't escape, he first stuffed a bun into his mouth.
Hmm, not bad, it had meat.
A win.
He couldn't help but grin.
Smack!
Then he got a hard slap.
What followed was the usual beating in the marketplace. The bun shop owner was used to it, and the passersby were used to watching it.
Mainly because no one really cared about this child. His clothes were picked up from who knows where, he slept under other people's eaves every day, hiding in the straw in winter, and the mischief he did was countless.
Pure selfishness.
The bun shop owner whipped him with a rattan cane for half an hour, perhaps knowing the child had a special constitution, he beat him with particular enthusiasm.
The skinny body was hit by the cane, bruises appearing constantly, even bleeding.
But the child didn't make a sound, even recalling the taste of the meat bun from earlier.
It was delicious.
He couldn't help but smile.
This made the bun shop owner laugh angrily, his hand movements becoming more forceful, putting all his strength into it, sweat flowing out.
The woman in the luxurious restaurant became increasingly curious, her eyes flashing with intrigue as she looked at the child.
The beating ended when the bun shop owner was exhausted.
The child's body was covered in blood, his frame trembling involuntarily.
"Ptui!" The shop owner spat on the ground and cursed again,
"If you dare come again, I'll beat you to death, you little beast. No one cares about you anyway, if you die, you just die!"
The child said nothing.
The passersby dispersed.
It was now dusk.
He dragged his blood-covered body back to the old alley where he usually stayed, sitting blankly in the long-collapsed ruins.
The sun was setting.
This was his home.
A stray dog passed by on the roadside, seeming to carry something in its mouth, glaring at him fiercely.
"What are you looking at?" The child frowned and asked.
He saw what was in the dog's mouth, it looked like a bun, so the dog was protecting its food.
As it happened, he was also protecting his food.
So he fought with the stray dog for a moment, finally winning by a narrow margin, and got half a bun. He took a bite and immediately frowned.
Sugar.
A loss.
This dog had a rebellious bone!
He felt unusually dejected.
Usually, he didn't think about anything. Thinking too much made his head spin, as if something was missing, always feeling like he had forgotten many things.
A nearly dry stream flowed slowly past the collapsed ruins.
An old crow stood on a nearly dead old tree by the road, cawing, singing an unpleasant song.
In all this decay,
Only the child remained young.
"What's your name?" Suddenly, a clear voice rang out.
A woman tilted her head, blocking the sunset, smiling as she asked the child.
The child was stunned for a moment, as if countless things were spinning in his mind. He couldn't understand anything, but suddenly two words surfaced, so he naturally said,
"Chen Xia."
lities. One day, Qi Yuan was buying groceries when he unfortunately came face-to-face with a monster. Just when he thought he was going to die on the spot, he suddenly heard the monster's thoughts... "This aura, he's definitely not an ordinary master!" "So terrifying, so terrifying." "A fight with my back against the wall, I can't take it anymore." Qi Yuan: Ah, no one told me that my awakened ability isn't telepathy, but rather the stronger my enemies imagine me to be, the stronger I truly become. PS: Zhou Hai in the first chapter is not the protagonist.
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.”
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.
rowess are unmatched, commanding a million-strong army! Yet, the Emperor wants to depose him for the sake of a false prince? Hold on, are you throwing me into some female-oriented romance plot? How can I tolerate this? With a grand wave of his hand—the Nine Clan Extraction Technique! Slander the Emperor? Very well, all of you shall die! ... The False Prince: "Although I am not the biological son, Father and Mother love me more. The throne should be mine!" The Female Lead: "Qin Xiao, you are the Emperor, and I am a commoner. If you wish to marry me, you must abdicate. Otherwise, you will never have me!" The Empress: "After we divorce, you must give me half the empire!" The Transmigrator Consort: "You worthless Emperor, why should I kneel to you? All men are equal—I advise you to be kind!" The Great General: "The enemy general is my childhood sweetheart. For her sake, I willingly abandon the frontier defenses!" The Retired Emperor: "Although Yu'er was adopted, I prefer him. Qin Xiao, you should abdicate and let him become Emperor!" ... Very well! So this is how you want to play? Facing this twisted world of female-oriented tropes, Qin Xiao grins and raises his hand to unleash—the Nine Clan Extraction Technique! I am the Emperor. Why would I bother reasoning with you? Seal the gates! Leave none alive!
