MTL - Grasping Evil - Chapter 17 Bear the wind and snow, the son is deep

Lan Hengsheng was once the pride of the Lan Clan, a child prodigy with limitless potential—until his fifth birthday changed everything.Declared spirit coreless, he was abandoned by those who once praised him, dismissed as a mortal in a world ruled by cultivators. His so-called friends turned their backs on him, and the clan that once held him in high regard saw him as nothing more than a disappointment.But Hengsheng holds a secret—one that defies the natural laws of this world.Ding![Make a wish] He wished for everything! With the ability to create a system, he doesn’t need talent. He doesn’t need fate’s blessing. He can program his own path to immortality.Why struggle for enlightenment when he can create a Cultivation Optimization System?Why waste decades training when he can install a Time Acceleration System?Why risk his life searching for treasures when he can develop an Auto-Farming System?While other cultivators beg the heavens for guidance, Hengsheng writes his own cultivation manual.Armed with his cheat-like power, he will challenge geniuses, reshape sects, and rewrite the very foundation of cultivation itself.The strongest cultivator is a system maker!

This novel is also known as Almighty Video Game Designer

Chen Mo a game designer got sent to a parallel world with advance technology but undeveloped game concepts.

Watch as he redefines the world’s gaming industry with the games he remade from his old world.

- Description from Novelupdates

The clock struck midnight when Ruelle heard the echo of footsteps. She tensed, the fine hairs on the back of her neck standing on end in the cool night air.“You shouldn't be here,” Ruelle whispered, her voice a breathless murmur. The silhouette finally came to stand under the moonlight, his dark red eyes watching her and his inky black hair ruffling.“Shouldn't I?” His voice was a dark caress, and she stood there captivated by the danger he exuded like perfume.“I haven’t seen you for the last two days,” his tone low. His hand reached out, fingers brushing against the silk of her nightgown, tracing the trembling outline of her collarbone. “Tell me, were you avoiding me, or perhaps... entertaining other offers?”Ruelle’s heart raced, her breaths shallow. She declared, “I don't belong to anyone.”“A bold claim,“ he murmured, his breath a tantalising chill against her skin as he leaned in. ”Yet here you are, pulse racing, your body tensed as if in anticipation of my touch.”His fingers gripped her chin, tilting her face towards his. The moonlight caught his eyes, revealing a glint of predatory intent. “Or must I remind you whose touch you truly crave?”

Perhaps the paintings in a museum are subjected to more nonsense than you would hear anywhere else in the world.The language that comes out of an artist’s life is the painting itself. It contains the most ordinary lives that know failure, desire, recoiling in fear, and compromise.Learning is about understanding that language. We miss much of what the paintings speak because there is no way to ask the long-dead painters about the philosophy of their lives.In an alleyway in the residential area of Jongno, there’s a peculiar art gallery. This place enables us to transcend such limitations. By sheer coincidence, I ended up visiting that place and began living an entirely different life.