God of Trash - Chapter 62. Emissary to the Rats

“Listen, the ancient gods are whispering, He said…they will return eventually!”

According to legend, the rulers of this world should have been those ancient gods, and every death of them was a grand rebirth…

Those who believe in the gods wake up the sleeping gods, light torches in the dark, and burn the world.

My father disappeared because he was investigating the resurrection of a certain god, and his life and death are still unknown.

I panicked, but not totally panicked.

Because the resurrected god is me.

- Description from novelbuddy

When he woke up, there was actually a beautiful CEO wife of Queen Fan.

Song Xuanhe transmigrated into a book called “The President’s Seven Boyfriends”. He became the President’s cannon fodder ex-boyfriend, Song Xuanhe.

The Song Xuanhe in the book: 180 cm tall, so attractive he would trump over even the hottest celebrities, three generations of family in business–a very appropriate rich third generation.

It wasn’t a loss to transmigrate into this kind of person. It was just that this was a rebirth story.

The Song Xuanhe in the book abused the male lead 800 times and had even indirectly caused the male lead’s death. Faced with the reborn blackened male lead, his fate was obvious–not only did he reach rock bottom, he even died without an intact corpse.

Right now, he had become the cannon fodder ex-boyfriend that was foreordained to die without an intact corpse.

——

System: Don’t you think that the male lead has been a bit strange recently? It’s like he’s plotting something in the dark.

Song Xuanhe: Plotting how to kill me?

System: No, plotting how to eat you.

——

Song Xuanhe, who was lying on the bed with an aching waist, pained back and legs suffering from cramps, cursed the System 800 times–what happened to the male lead being a shou?!

Emphasis: Xiao Yuanmu is the gong! Xiao Yuanmu is the gong! Xiao Yuanmu is the gong! Moreover, the tycoon has always been a gong! Spoilers only up to here!

- Description from Novelupdates

Though it may be a dream weathered, crumpled, fading,I held on without surrender.Through each repeated day, running toward tomorrow’s light,I became a knight, resolute and bright.