The Novelist Forced to Become Famous - Chapter 334: Muno’s Request

Reborn in a frail body disgraced by its family, Zhuang Xing—the once-legendary Pill God—awakens to a brutal world where martial prowess defines destiny. Surviving an attempt on his life by his own family’s henchmen, he realizes he’s been reborn in the Great Qi Country as the despised son of the Zhuang family.Three months before the prestigious Hidden Dragon Ranking, Zhuang Xing must rise above his limitations to claim his birthright and reclaim his former strength. With enemies surrounding him, will Zhuang Xing overcome his frail shell and silence those who doubt him?

How long will it take for a murdered thief to distill into something monstrous? In this story the darkness only grows stronger, and its reach only grows wider as it expands by devouring the life that surrounds it. This is a dark fantasy where evil is a where, not just a who that focuses on slow progression, undeath, and atmospheric storytelling.

He possesses unparalleled martial arts, all the great Young Masters are under his feet!He has heaven-defying medical skills, even the dead can be brought back to life!He also has a pair of Supreme Quality Divine Eyes, capable of fighting, hypnotizing, you name it!

The boundless universe is full of many wonders.

I, Chen Ping, only have one sword!

I can move mountains, overturn the seas upside down, suppress demons, slap the face of gods, pluck the stars, break rivers, destroy cities, and… open the heavenly abode!

***

The Midland world was full of wonders.

In the center of the world, there was a scholar who had once used a sword to slash out a waterfall of the Milky Way. This was the person he was the most proud of.

At the edge of East Sea’s cliffs, there was a nameless Daoist who was unwilling to ascend to the peak of a mountain. He only wished for a cool breeze to brush against his face.

In the Western Pure Land, there was an old monk who liked to treat people to chicken soup and tell stories.

In the southern border of the Wilderness, there was a blind painter who controlled golden-armored puppets that were as tall as mountains to move the hundred thousand mountains, creating an embroidered picture.

A impoverished youth who grew up in the north. One day, he saw tens of thousands of Sword Kinesis Immortals above him, like a swarm of locusts crossing the border.

He wanted to see for himself the scholar that the storyteller had mentioned, the surging tides of the East Sea, the vast swamps of sand in the west, and the majestic mountains of the Southern Wasteland.

Thus, one day, the youth picked up the wooden sword and began to descend south.

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