THE URBAN EMPEROR DAO

A beam of light suddenly drove into a body that could be considered a corpse. His skin was wrinkled, his eyes hollow. The flesh had almost dried up, clinging tightly to his bones.

Suddenly the eyes of the corpse flew open, the anger on his face was very obvious. Gnashing his nearly broken teeth, the corpse-like man said angrily, "Those bastards tricked me into capturing the fate and time wheel. I, Emperor Dao of the immortal realm, won't forgive those bastards until they die in my hands."

Emperor Dao of the immortal realm was existence above all cultivation levels, he stood at the pinnacle of the cultivation world, and unexpectedly, what he lacked was a Dao companion and a child, he dedicated all his life to cultivation.

He was tricked into believing that by capturing the fate time wheel, he would be able to reverse time and get all his longings. He didn't expect to be killed by the time and fate wheel that his soul was sent to Earth.

"This body constitution isn't bad; I will have to cultivate quickly and return to the immortal world to massacre those bastards," the Dao Emperor said furiously, sighing. He sat up and started cultivating.

The spirit qi around the environment formed a whirlpool as he absorbed it in a tyrannical manner.

The dry skin glowed like that of a newborn baby, and the white withered hairs transformed into jet-black locks. All his wrinkles vanished, leaving him looking like a man in his early twenties.

Suddenly, a lot of memories that didn't belong to him flooded his memories. The original owner of the body was Old Ye, a grandfather to eleven children, and he was a vegetable seller in the market. The more memories Emperor Dao assimilated, the more he became pleased and upset.

While he was pleased with his new body, frantic footfalls and an anxious voice alerted him: "Grandpa! They want to bring down our house."

Old Ye's eyes snapped open and his face turned cold. The door to his room opened, and then a boy of twelve years old stood at the door, looking stunned and confused.

"Where is my grandpa?" the twelve-year-old boy asked with a face filled with confusion.

Old Ye looked at him and then recalled in the original owner's memories that the little boy's name was John, the youngest of his grandsons.

Standing up on his feet, Old Ye had to manage the dirty, tight shirt and washed trousers. With his hands clasped behind his back, he responded with nonchalance, "I am your grandfather, who dares to cause trouble?"

John, driven by instinct, replied, "They are outside.'"

When he came to his senses, Old Ye had already left the room. John looked around the room and couldn't find his grandfather.

"Who is that young man just now?" John muttered in contemplation, but he quickly left the room, when he arrived at the large courtyard, he saw Old Ye standing before the group of contractors who were clamouring for Old Ye to come out of the house.

Old Ye's face looked at the seventeen contractors before him; if it were to be in the immortal realm, he would have slapped them dead a long time ago; a bunch of ants like them were not worthy to even make an appearance before him.

"Quickly get lost! This is my house, and none of you have the right to pull it down," Old Ye said impatiently. He wasn't in the mood to entertain clowning ants like those contractors.

One of the contractors with a pot belly and helmet covering his bald head stepped forward and said, "Are you Old Ye? Old Ye sold this house to us. Tell him to come out; we don't have time to talk to a stranger."

Old Ye frowned his face and rummaged through the original body owner's memories but didn't find anywhere he sold the house. His refusal to even sell the house was the reason the Ye family was hated by the influential and aristocratic families of A-City; they were the public enemies of the capitalists in the city. The real body owner even lost his life because of the property.

"When did I sell the house to you? Are you sent by the Daniels?" Old Ye asked coldly while looking at the obese contractor furiously.

The contractors were stunned when the extremely handsome man who could easily win the most handsome man in the country identified himself as Old Ye, who was known for looking ugly and worn out. Old Ye was practically a beggar with his look.

The more they looked at the handsome young man, the more they couldn't associate him with Old Ye.

The contractors burst into laughter. John witnessed the scene and was also speechless. One of the contractors looked at John and then asked, "Is he your grandfather?"

"If I say I am Old Ye, then I am Old Ye. Why so much nonsense?" Old Ye interjected coldly. "I am in a good mood today; I won't kill you, so leave." His thoughts were filled with concern for his grandchildren, whose memories he had inherited from the body's original owner.

The contractors looked at the new Old Ye weirdly; they knew Old Ye as someone very good; he wouldn't even fight back when he was slapped; Old Ye's vegetables were tossed on the ground; and he didn't even ask for repayment; he smiled and left the market without even confronting the offender, the Old Ye they know will never say such a word.

Old Ye was upset that none of them were moving.

"Since you can't leave on your own, I will help you," Old Ye said coldly, then raised his hand.

His left hand formed a seal, and the space around the contractors changed. With just a move of his hand, the seventeen contractors were teleported directly to a desert in the Middle East.