Don't Mess with That Dragon - Chapter 22 - 20: Breaking Ice on the Lake

“I saw with my own eyes that they used the finest, rustproof refined steel to make utensils and cans, filling them with just a little food, then casually throwing them away after eating.”“I saw with my own eyes that they used giant beasts as tall as mountains to devour soil and rocks, digging out underground cities, just to park their steel carriages beneath the surface.”“I saw with my own eyes that they fed glowing ores into an everlasting stellar furnace, unleashing a radiance brighter than the sun.”“I saw with my own eyes all those indescribable things.”“Their iron birds covered the sky, their steel ships filled the ocean, their war machines tore the earth asunder, and their gods walked upon the world.”“You must think I’m mad.”“But it doesn’t matter.”“It has already seen you.”——————Oil is Its blood.Thick smoke is Its breath.Ore and steel are Its food.The countless cargo ships in the harbors are Its myriad offspring.The place of origin stamped in the corner is Its silent mockery.They claim they are mere mortals.Child, you’d best not argue.You must understand:Their technology is beyond comprehension.Their production capacity is unimaginable.A mere glimpse of their creations will drive you insane.Their morale surpasses even the most fanatical worshippers of dark gods.How will you stop them?With your sword, child? Or your flesh and blood?You should be grateful that they still consider themselves mortals.——————“I’ve finished building my factory, and now you’re telling me this world runs on idealism?!”“Wait, then what the hell did I just create?”

Bai Muchen had it all — not only was he the most renowned martial artist of the Nine Heaven continent, he even had the Five Meridians of Tianling and was engaged to Xuan Qingzhu, the beautiful daughter of his mentor. But everything falls apart when he’s set up by his fiancé and mentor during a cultivation session, and he is killed.

Reborn as a young man named Xiang Nan, the heir of a declining family, can Bai Muchen get his revenge?

Li Xingwan had transmigrated into a book, becoming a D-list celebrity scandal-ridden and already married.Her husband was a bad omen. Rumor had it, he was a poor and elderly man with hemiplegia. Not only that, she also had to play stepmother.In effect, Li Xingwan was just like a widow.Regarding these rumors, Li Xingwan herself remained silent.The clamoring on the internet grew more intense.“That person who appeared on screen just now, couldn't have been a woman taking care of her hemiplegic husband, could she?”“And what about that ugly freak of a stepson?”“Won't this family put on some sort of tragic drama in front of the camera?”“Li Xingwan, she's just shameless. For money, she'd even marry a hemiplegic.”But...As the camera panned,who was that cold and abstinent Buddha's Disciple? And who was that soft, adorable little bun?!Ahhh! I'm going crazy!!

It's simple. A vengeful wildfire of a woman. A tyrant who begs to be burned.When Aria crashes into Kael’s empire, hellbent on making him pay for taking her job away, she’s met not with defiance—but a dare. “You want revenge?” he taunts, voice dripping with dark invitation.“Then ruin me. Take your pound of flesh exactly where it hurts.” His proposition is a trap laced with sin: As expected he calls the shots in his bed, her contempt is his twisted aphrodisiac.“Hate me until your hands shake,” he growls. “But do it on top of me, where I can watch you savor every cut.”Their arrangement is a collision of dominance and delirium. Aria wields her fury like a blade, determined to break him. Kael? He thrives under her wrath, goading her darker, deeper, hungrier.But vengeance turns slippery when every command she hisses ignites his obedience, and every cold glare melts into bruising kisses. Soon, the bed becomes a battleground—her nails carving victory into his skin, his whispers a serpent’s promise: “Chain me with your rage, darling. I’ll still come back for more.”The rules are simple: No mercy. No surrender. But as their games spiral into something ravenous, who’s destroying whom? And when hatred burns this hot, what’s left when the ashes cool?