Upon seeing this mysterious old man again, Wang Ye was filled with unease, even with his current abilities.
The two of them were inside and outside the hut respectively, silently staring at each other...
After a long while, Wang Ye embarrassingly laughed and took out a candle lamp from his backpack, carefully passing it through the window into the wooden hut.
However, the old man seemed as if he did not see it at all, and was still silently gazing at Wang Ye without any movement.
"You're not going to take it?"
A thoughtful look flashed across Wang Ye's eyes. He gritted his teeth and boldly took two more steps forward.
The old man still did not make any moves. Suddenly, the door of the wooden hut opened.
"Do you want me to go in?"
Wang Ye's expression was gloomy and uncertain. Even until now, he was still unable to ascertain the identity of this old man, even if he was a customer of the post office!
Moreover, who said all the customers of the post office were good people?
Wasn't there still an unlucky ghost lying under Grave No. 3 in the suburbs' cemetery?
Taking a deep breath, Wang Ye gradually calmed down, controlling his heartbeat as he slowly approached the door of the hut.
The old man had turned around at some point, still silently watching Wang Ye.
His face that was as dry as bark revealed an eerie smile.
With the flickering wind, the candle lamp on the table next to the old man finally burnt out completely.
The firelight...
Went out.
As the last wisp of candlelight extinguished, the suburbs' cemetery was completely swallowed by darkness.
Chilly breaths kept blowing over; mournful roars could be clearly heard from within the graveyard!
'Boom!'
'Boom!'
Deafening rumbles continuously sounded. All of the tombstones in the graveyard showed signs of shattering.
The ground beneath the tombstones churned and rolled.
The smile on the old man's face finally disappeared. He was standing outside the wooden hut at some point, looking towards the not too far away graveyard.
"Light..."
"The candle..."
Finally, the old man slowly opened his mouth, and a somewhat stiff voice rang out.
"Damn it!"
Wang Ye clenched his teeth. The chilly breaths continuously swept over his body, seemingly wanting to completely freeze him.
Within the graveyard, the countless terrifying pressures made it very difficult for Wang Ye to even lift his hand.
Resisting the horrifying pressure, Wang Ye slowly placed the candle lamp on the wooden table and took out a lighter.
However, each time he produced a flame, a cold gust of wind would blow it out.
The sounds from within the graveyard grew even louder.
The entire graveyard seemed to be continuously shaking, as if it could collapse at any moment.
The anxious Wang Ye continuously flicked the lighter.
At some point, the old man's figure had disappeared without a trace.
"Damn it!"
Wang Ye continuously struck the lighter while using his body to block the window.
Finally...
In an instant, the candle lamp was lit with firelight.
Familiar candlelight once again illuminated the inside of the wooden hut.
The noises from the graveyard gradually faded away. One after another unwilling roars lessened until they disappeared.
Wang Ye, whose body was nearly frozen stiff, heaved a long sigh of relief as he slumped down on the ground, his body shivering unceasingly.
Everything that had just happened seemed like an illusion.
What he didn't see was that within the graveyard, a tombstone soundlessly shattered.
The old man was standing silently in front of the collapsed tombstone at some point.
Amidst sinister laughter, the ground churned. A hand fiercely stretched out from below.
The arm was covered in lividity and was an ashen color.
"Return..."
The old man's voice was still stiff as it softly echoed within the graveyard.
That arm seemed to be under tremendous pressure as it twistedly shrank bit by bit back into the soil.
When it reached the fingers, it gradually came to a stop.
Several fingers stubbornly remained outside the soil.
The old man turned around...and gradually disappeared into the darkness. Within the graveyard, a faint sigh continuously reverberated...
...
Inside the wooden hut, it took Wang Ye a long time before his body gradually recovered its mobility.
He forced himself up despite his physical discomfort.
Looking at the candle lamp on the wooden table, he was slightly dazed.
This candlelight...seemed to have a suppressing effect?
In other words, this candle lamp was used to suppress this suburban graveyard?
Thinking about the layer of wax he had secretly scraped off with a dagger, a cold sweat rolled down Wang Ye's forehead.
He didn't know if this would have any effect on the graveyard.
However...when he thought about that mysterious post office, his heart relaxed once more.
Letting out a long breath, Wang Ye put on his backpack again, preparing to leave.
The next second, looking towards the doorway, Wang Ye's pupils slightly contracted.
At some point, the old man had silently appeared at the entrance, his gaze fixed on Wang Ye.
"Cough cough, you're...you're back?"
"If there's nothing else..."
"I'll be on my way..."
Wang Ye softly coughed and revealed an embarrassed smile on his face as he slowly sidled towards the entrance.
The old man's face was expressionless, like a statue.
Finally, when Wang Ye arrived at the entrance, the old man lightly shifted his body to make way.
Wang Ye hurriedly rushed out, rapidly retreating while keeping his eyes fixed warily on the old man.
If the old man discovered the thinner candle and was unsatisfied enough to give him a slap, he could probably die honorably...
Fortunately...
The old man did not make any moves from start to finish.
Only when Wang Ye gradually disappeared into the darkness did the old man slowly retract his gaze. His movements somewhat stiff, he returned to the wooden hut and sat down on a chair.
Silently gazing at the candle lamp, the old man was lost in thought for a long time...
"Interesting..."
The old man suddenly revealed a smile. He stiffly said.
Afterwards, the old man's figure gradually faded away, as if he had never appeared at all.
And at the entrance of the wooden hut, the red "1" seemed to have become even more vibrant, faintly appearing to ooze blood.
...
Far away behind the suburban graveyard, Wang Ye deeply exhaled in relief.
He had finally left.
Although the tasks at the two places in the suburban graveyard were not especially dangerous, the impact they gave Wang Ye was unparalleled.
That mysterious old man, the powerful oppressive aura, could always make Wang Ye feel a sense of despair.
Moreover, this old man was full of mystery. Wang Ye really wasn't sure if the old man would snap and slap him to death just because he was in a bad mood one day.
Fortunately...
He had perfectly completed this task.
What delighted Wang Ye was that this candle seemed to be exceptionally powerful, able to suppress the entire suburban graveyard.
If he made good use of those little wax shavings he scraped off, perhaps they could have a miraculous effect.
Thinking thus, Wang Ye's mood gradually improved.
Arriving at the door of his home, Wang Ye's gaze turned cold as a boning knife soundlessly appeared in his hand.
The door...
At some unknown point...had opened!
"Am I running a supermarket here!"
Wang Ye cursed inwardly. Recently, his home seemed to be especially lively!
Thinking so, Wang Ye's gaze turned slightly cold. Clutching the boning knife, he silently headed inside.

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.”

g Yu was preparing for retirement when her organization decided to eliminate her. She transmigrated to a zombie apocalypse world. However, a tiny unexpected situation occurred: She somehow transformed into an adorable little girl?!

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?!

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!