NPC Town-building Game - Chapter 56.1 - The Last Supper

On their third wedding anniversary, Qin Xi excitedly told Lu Bochen about her pregnancy, only to receive a 1 billion yuan check, an order to abort the child, and divorce papers in return.To protect her child, she fled.Five years later, she returned with her adorable twins and had become a revered miracle doctor in the medical field, with countless admirers.He regretted it. Qin Xi coldly watched as Lu Bochen, the CEO, apologized publicly on a live stream, “Weren't you the one who wanted a divorce and didn't want the child?”He humbly begged, “Xi Xi, I want to remarry and have the child.”“In your dreams.”“Xi Xi, the kids need a father.”The adorable twins stood with their hands on their hips in unison, “We don't need a daddy who bullies mommy.”Lu Bochen, who had even his bedding and luggage thrown out of the room, didn't dare lose his temper, “Take a good look and see who's really bullying whom!”

Jiang Shuyi is done.
Dahuo A cried uncontrollably, and threatened to hate his Omega advisor Wen Yao to death.
In order to relieve his worries, Jiang Shuyi got so drunk that he opened his eyes and went back to 18 years ago!
After Jiang Shuyi transmigrated into the second-generation ancestor who was a professor in high school, 18-year-old Wen Yao fell into Jiang Shuyi’s arms.
At this moment, Wen Yao just differentiated into Omega
Rose-flavored pheromones filled the entire space.
Jiang Shuyi panicked: It’s impossible for me to tag her…
Afterwards, Jiang Shuyi knelt down in front of Wen Yao in shame.
“Teacher, Wen Yao, I will take responsibility for you!”
“No need.”
Wen Yao turned around in a distant manner, and disappeared from her field of vision neatly.
Jiang Shuyi: This woman is really indifferent.
But later, Jiang Shuyi discovered:
When Wen Yao is in heat, he always likes to hug her and not let go.
Wen Yao would secretly hide her clothes and sleep with her at night.
Wen Yao only has her phone number in her phone.
Jiang Shuyi: Huh? I have reasonable doubts…
—————————————–
Jiang Shuyi, the second ancestor of Chengbei High School, has not been quite right recently.
He stopped fighting, climbed over walls, and skipped classes, and his grades jumped to the second place in his grade.
And tons of Omegas confessing to her.
When the school beauty Jiang Shuyi once chased confessed to her, everyone thought it was safe.
As a result, that night, someone saw Wen Yao, the first in the third grade, in the laboratory, pushing her down on the table.
“Jiang Shuyi, do you want to accept that Omega?” Wen Yao asked coldly.
But the mechanical pencil in her hand was on Alpha’s carotid artery.
Jiang Shuyi immediately sat up and kissed the tears streaming down Wen Yao’s face. Frightened, she moved her neck away.
“Teacher, professor! I only have you!”
“What did you call me?”
“Baby!” Jiang Shuyi hurriedly changed his words nervously, “Baby! I only have you!”

Little Sun Cub Sand Sculpture Alpha X Tsundere High Mountain Flower Xueba Omega
Jiang Shuyi X Wen Yao
Lemon Balm Alpha X Rose Omega
1. There are private settings
2. Protagonist A is a young art genius, and protagonist O is a medical professor
3. No second set of organs
4. Protagonist A has social arrogance
5. The original age difference is 12, now the same age
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“108 Styles of Wife Protector and Mad Devil” “Late Night of Bells”

Content tags: special liking, rebirth, sweet text, campus
Search keywords: Protagonist: Jiang Shuyi, Wen Yao┃Supporting role: Tianwen┃Others:

- Description from novelbuddy

Here, only those with spiritual roots can cultivate while those with mortal roots are destined to stay mortal.

Mo Wuji only has mortal roots, but will he only remain as a mortal?

war, blood, and betrayal carved him into something else. A legend. A killer. A mercenary whose name struck fear into both criminals and so-called heroes alike.But now, the world had changed. Lines blurred between right and wrong, between justice and vengeance. Should he step into the light, wear the mask of a hero, and fight for a cause greater than himself? Or should he embrace the darkness that had always been his home, a place where morality was just another illusion?“Don’t box me in with your shallow ideas of good and evil,” he muttered, his voice calm but edged with danger. “I do what I want, when I want.”The air was thick with tension as he moved like a shadow through the dimly lit room. The writer had no time to react—one moment, he was scribbling nonsense about legends and myths; the next, a cold barrel pressed against the back of his head.The figure smirked beneath his mask, eyes gleaming with something between amusement and menace.“You wanna write fiction?” he whispered. “Then let me show you how real legends are made.”A single gunshot shattered the silence.As the writer’s body slumped over the desk, the man holstered his weapon, stepping into the faint glow of a flickering neon light.“It’s that simple,” he said, his voice unwavering. “I’m Deathstroke.”