Eighteen's Bed - Chapter 11.3: Nineteen: The Unlucky Age (3)

Wang Yi gets a key, opening a door in 2022 will lead to 1982, and opening a door in 1982 will return to 2022.

Two very different great eras appeared before him:

Abundant dietary protection, developed industrial products, miraculous medicines, and explosive information, this is 2022.

Simple folk customs, rich wild resources, scattered antiques, and treasures of the age, this is 1982.

Traveling between these two eras, Wang Yi didn’t think much of it, he just wanted to live a good life.

- Description from novelbuddy

The unruly madame is playing as if she was a Russian matryoshka! Do you think that under the the vest is her real identity? Apologies, but there is still a vest under that vest. And then a couple more vests under that!

Madame! Just how many identities do you have !?

- Description from Novelupdates

When Li Fan transmigrated into a new world, his life seemed unremarkable. He was moderately well-off, with a wife and children, but nothing extraordinary. Everything changed upon his death, when he awakened the ability Return to Truth: the power to virtualize an entire lifetime’s worth of experiences, run it as a simulation, and return to the age of twenty armed with that knowledge.With this ability in hand, Li Fan finally saw a chance to pursue the dream he had always harbored: eternal life. In other words, the path of immortal cultivation.But the world of cultivation was nothing like the paradise he imagined. After countless generations of cultivators plundering heaven and earth, the heavens had struck back. Mortals now carried the Immortal-Mortal Miasma within their blood, a disease that, when encountered by cultivators, led to cultivation decline and death. No technique could be practiced by more than a single person. Calamities descended from the Heavenly Dao without warning.In such a hostile world, where even the heavens themselves resist immortal cultivation, can Li Fan truly seize eternal life? Or will he meet his final end, his Dao dispersing back to heaven?

[Matured Content]Isadora Skaldwood was born a fae of impure blood “mannfae” deemed an inferior creation of the olden gods. However, at birth she was kissed by the goddess of light and blessed with the ability of a skin weaver, capable of healing any wound or affliction.Betrayed by her family, she's sold for gain and shipped across the world to a brothel, into the hands of a selfish businessman who exploited her abilities for years. Travelers come to this brothel not to lay with the rumored mannfae but to seek her abilities—the star price of the famous brothel in the countryside.But then everything changed when “He” appeared…Kraven Val Thrond “The Reaper” of the Raven Court, a terrifying warrior feared by those who dared to speak his name. Dangerously handsome with looks identical to a god, silver eyes like the crescent moon—but a mind dipped in madness.Isadora despised him, not just for stealing her away, but for thrusting her into his world of blood and chaos—taking her freedom just like everyone else does. He’s insane! But that’s only the cherry on top, his obsession is wicked.(Excerpt)“You want to kill me and at the same time, you do not” Isadora’s features were stern and the cold look in her eyes almost forced a laugh out of him.She got more frustrated by his silence, choosing to insult him and be done with it. “Does a madman not know what to do with a mannfae?”“I can think of a thousand ways to kill you,” Kraven replied in a velvety voice. “Like first throwing you off-board”Isadora's angry expression morphed into one of horror.“But that would be terrifying, wouldn’t it? Drowning in the dark sea, unable to breathe” he voiced as if he could vividly picture it—and him on board watching. “Tell me, Isadora”A cold chill crawled down her spine.“If I let you go, where would you run to, hm? I told you already this realm isn't kind to outcasts like us”“I'm not like you!”He chuckled lightly. “We're alike. What use could you be to this forsaken realm?”“What use could you have of me?” she asked shakily.“Oh love, I can think of many things but I’m not sure you’re ready… yet”