Okay, I need to talk about Fu Yuanzheng and Yao Chengcheng because WOW. The way this dynamic starts is absolutely perfect. Everyone else in that selection chamber is losing their minds screaming 'monster' and 'ghost,' and Yao Chengcheng—this girl who just transmigrated and has zero context—does the complete opposite. She opens her eyes. She LOOKS at him. And you know what? She doesn't even flinch at the burned half of his face. She just... stares. At the GOOD half. And swallows. That gulp in the silent hall? Chef's kiss. It's so human, so flawed, so NOT what anyone expected. And Fu Yuanzheng's reaction is equally brilliant. He's been through a year of assassination attempts, people trying to poison him, send spies, whatever. He expects another trick. He says 'Fine' three times like he's already given up on living. He sends her to the EMPTY kitchen like it's a death sentence. But then he watches from above, and sees her talking to herself for fifteen minutes, and even THEN he's like 'is she really a spy from the Eastern Palace?' This man is so broken and paranoid that he can't process genuine weirdness as anything other than a threat. But here's what gets me—Eunuch Fu. The pale-faced eunuch. He's the one who actually shows up for this guy. Crying, snot and tears, begging him to eat. The contrast between everyone else who fears Fu Yuanzheng and this one old servant who just... cares. It makes the world feel real. These aren't just plot devices, they're people with history. Also can we talk about how Yao Chengcheng immediately bonds with her system? When Bobojii tells her she's 'Wen Yaoyao' and she's like 'I'm Yao Chengcheng, let's make do'—that's not a passive protagonist. That's a woman who just got yeeted into a novel and decided to take the wheel. She's already planning her escape routes, her power moves. She's not waiting to be saved. She's saving herself. What do you think about Fu Yuanzheng though? Is he going to soften, or is he too damaged? I need to know.
Let me just say this: the pacing in these chapters is absolutely unhinged and I am not ready for it. Chapter 7 starts with Lin Ji literally summoning a spiritual sword, getting trapped in a golden barrier, and then — BAM — heavenly lightning strikes. We're at maximum tension. Life or death. Revenge. The Mermaid Pearl. The fate of a future sect. And then what does the author do? He has Lin Ji kick a charred corpse aside, crush a pearl, and then... sit under a tree and sigh. The whiplash is incredible. One moment you're watching a cultivator duel with heavenly intervention, the next you're watching a man decide he's done with everything and just wants to travel. The author doesn't ease you into the calm — he just yanks the rug out from under you and says 'surprise, the revenge is over, now what?' And then the pacing does this weird thing where it SLOWS DOWN even more. Lin Ji rides back to his hometown, sells properties, gathers money, and then we get this entire section of him just... living. Tasting food. Drinking tea. Listening to stories. Riding on a boat. It's almost boring on purpose. The author is making us feel what Lin Ji is feeling — the luxury of having nothing to do, the strangeness of peace after a lifetime of struggle. But then — AND THEN — he throws in the Yunshang Immortal Sect recruitment. The same sect that chose him in his previous life. The same sect that was the starting point of his downfall. And Lin Ji goes in the OPPOSITE direction. He actively avoids it. The pacing builds to this moment where we think, 'oh no, he's going back, he's going to get pulled in again,' and then he just... doesn't. He turns west. He leaves. The chapter ends with him at a casino, bored, watching people gamble, and thinking about how the demonic seeds from his previous life didn't target the people there. That ending line? That's a cliffhanger disguised as an observation. The author is whispering 'something is coming' while making it look like nothing is happening. Masterful.
There's a symbol in this text that I keep coming back to, and it's the fabric. Over two thousand kilometers, Xu Zhitao's mother sent her... fabric. Not food. Not money. Not a letter. Fabric. And Xu Zhitao's first thought isn't anger. It's: "roughly twenty years later, when many factories couldn't pay wages, they would also use the fabric produced in the factories to offset salaries. It was exactly the same. The thought alone made me want to laugh." This is such a layered moment. On the surface, it's funny—her mom sent a mountain of useless cloth across the country. But underneath, it's about transactional love. Guo Hongying doesn't know how to give affection, so she gives things instead. Fabric. Goods. Material substitutes for emotional presence. And Xu Zhitao, who has spent five years as a ghost watching her mother from afar, recognizes the pattern immediately. She's been observing this woman's love language her entire spectral existence. The fabric becomes a metaphor for everything that's wrong and right about this family. It's excessive but harmless. It's practical but impersonal. It's what you send when you want to fulfill an obligation without actually showing up. But then Xu Zhitao reframes it: "She's finally being generous for once, so it's basically all free." She takes the cold transaction and turns it into a windfall. That's not just optimism—that's the mindset of someone who has learned to find value in neglect because the alternative is starvation. And the wild berries the cousins bring? Those are the opposite symbol. They cost nothing. They're not useful for anything practical. They're just... love. Remembered. Sought out. Brought by hand. The mountain itself is another symbol. Every time Xu Zhitao talks about going up the mountain—climbing trees, catching fish, picking mushrooms—she's talking about freedom. The mountain is where she was herself before the world broke her. It's where the cousins are still children. It's where ghosts can't follow because the living don't see what's already dead. "Having been a ghost for so many years... I could remember everything she read in books after just one glance. By that measure, I could be considered an intellectual. That was probably the only benefit of being a ghost." This line is devastating in its casualness. Being a ghost gave her knowledge but took away her life. She can read a book once and never forget it, but she can't sit in a classroom with other children. She's brilliant and alone, and the text treats this like a matter-of-fact observation rather than a tragedy. That's the narrative voice at its most powerful—understated grief that hits harder because it's not dressed up in melodrama.
Okay so let's talk about Li Luo's relationship with the Qin family because this is where it gets genuinely complicated and I love it. On one hand, you've got Old Master Qin who clearly sees through her. He tells her to eat, he scolds his granddaughter for being rude, and he leaves the gate unlatched with the light on. That's not nothing. That's someone who recognizes she's surviving in a hostile environment and gives her small dignities. And Li Luo notices—she gives him a knowing smile. She even feels her heart warm when she comes home to find the lanterns done and the light on. But then here's the thing that made me sit up: "But no! She mustn't soften. No matter how kind they were, she didn't belong here." That line hit me like a truck. She's actively fighting her own emotions. She knows gratitude when she feels it, and she's deliberately suppressing it because letting herself care is a vulnerability she can't afford. This is a woman who has been burned before—she nearly called them Mom and Dad at some point, and clearly that ended badly. So now she's running a tight emotional ship: make money, get slim, divorce, leave. No attachments. Then you have Qin Xinyi, who is just straight-up awful. The scene where she confronts Li Luo after the lantern-making marathon? Chef's kiss. Li Luo doesn't just defend herself—she dismantles her. "And if you don't eat or sleep, what are you, dead?" That's not just a comeback, that's a philosophical statement wrapped in an insult. And then the whole litany of what she actually did—cutting bamboo at dawn, working all night, buying supplies, preparing food—while Qin Xinyi just gets to be rude. The old man comes out and scolds her granddaughter again. It's clear who the real parents in this house are. And Liu Erwang and Cheng Jianshe? The scene where they call her "Big Sis" and she deliberately pushes her chin back to show off her neck fat, saying her looks are "just a minor, insignificant advantage"—that's comedic gold. She's performing insecurity as a power move. Of course she knows she's clever. She's just letting them think they're helping her when really she's building an empire. The most fascinating relationship though is the unspoken one with the soap factory supervisor. She pays him his full seventy percent share after selling only two boxes. When he's shocked and offers to renegotiate, she holds firm: "My method is worth money." That's not just business sense—that's someone who knows her worth in a world that keeps trying to tell her she doesn't have any. I just keep thinking about that moment where she stands under the eaves, combing her damp hair, watching the new baby hairs grow in, and then Qin Jun's door clicks open. She retreats like a ghost. She's building this whole new life while the original inhabitants of this body's life are just... orbiting her. Watching. Not understanding at all.
I'm absolutely loving your story so far?I've read a few chapters and I must say, the writer has done an amazing job. The plot is engaging and the characters are well developed. While there's always room for improvement, I think you've made a fantastic start. Keep up the great work?
One of the best fantasy novel I ever read though shouldn't have written this review but I think it's worth trying it's pretty okay for an upcoming novelist if I may say cause checking through is profile this is his first.
wish u the best, this novel is the definition of goated
I will review my novel?? this is an interesting novel that worth reading
I can’t believe how quickly I’ve gotten hooked on this novel! The writing is exceptional, and each chapter leaves me eagerly anticipating the next
author is there any ntr (netorare) and will mc care about the women he sleeps with or just have one night stand.
nice work fresh beamer more work brother
Your way of explaining all the caliber and scenarios are amazing. The character seems to be overpowered, if you could fix that then it's great