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... he bloodied ranks of the immortals.

Wang Xuan said, "If there's ever a biography of me in the future, would it be recorded like this: 'In the twilight of the myths, Wang Xuan and the Demon Lord Yan Yan joined forces to slay countless mutated immortals.'"

As he was spouting nonsense, he was taught a lesson. When he was close and touching the metal walls, an eerie electromagnetic sound resonated. Then, a faceless woman with disheveled hair materialized before them. She was flat, li ...

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Cen Qing transmigrated into a book, transmigrating into the villain who single-handedly created the zombie virus in the post-apocalyptic novel.

It’s not scary to dress up as a villain, what’s scary is that there is a villain who is more powerful than her.

Looking at Jiang Ci who was still dormant in the culture medium in front of him, Cen Qing recalled his own ending in the original book, his little heart trembled.

Did she kill him before he turned black and grew up, or pulled out his oxygen catheter now?

But Jiang Ci’s first sentence after waking up was, “Mom.”

Cen Qing was so frightened that the hand that pulled out the oxygen tube swished back, and since then began the daily routine of raising a baby/raising a man in the last days.

“Qingqing, blood is drawn on the hand, it needs to be healed to be healed.”

Cen Qing glanced at the wound where a drop of blood appeared, and ignored him.

“Qingqing, the zombies are Ah Ci’s good friends, can you stop beating their heads?”

Cen Qing glanced at the zombie with its bloody mouth open, and slammed the stick again.

“Qingqing, he pushed me on purpose. I don’t care at all that you stay in the same space as him.”

Cen Qing glanced at his stunned assistant and sighed.

Who did Jiang Ci learn the tea-in-tea phrase from?

But the day-to-day life of raising a baby suddenly changed his style of painting one day. The reason was that Cen Qing recruited another male assistant, the kind who looked soft and cute.

The man pushed her against the wall, his dark eyes filled with strong possessiveness, his voice was hoarse,

“Qingqing, you are not good, and a disobedient child should be locked up with chains.”

Cen Qing, who was trapped in the man’s hot embrace and could not move, burst into tears.

Is it too late for her to pull out the oxygen tube now? Waiting online, very urgent.

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At the age of 12, Shen Yue accidentally fell into a pond while feeding fish. That’s when she realized that her parents were not her real parents, and her five brothers were not her real brothers either. She was just a fake heiress to the Shen family!

Knowing she was destined to lose everything, Shen Yue decided to just lie down and give up. If she was going to lose it all anyway, she might as well just lie down and relax.

“Big brother, is working at the company fun? Let me check it out,” she thought, wanting to enjoy the perks of being a Shen daughter while she still could. Those luxuries would be out of reach soon enough.

“Second brother, is acting fun? Let me give it a try,” she schemed. What? They pay you just to lie still like a corpse? This is a job she had to get!

“Third brother, is that gun realistic? Let me see,” she said, examining the firearm. Not bad, though the recoil is too strong. She’d need to find a smaller one to play with next time.

“Fourth brother, will the teachers be mad if I sneak into your research institute? Let me take a peek,” she plotted, eyeing her handsome professor. A little hugging wouldn’t hurt!

“Fifth brother, that medicine you’re working on smells nice. Mind if I try a little taste…” she asked casually before sampling it. Tastes good! But now my head feels itchy—I better not be growing a brain!

On the day the real heiress returned, Shen Yue’s five brothers shielded her behind them. “Dear sister, can we keep her with us? She’s a bit slow, it’d be dangerous for her out there alone.”

The true heiress scoffed coldly, masking her sly intentions beneath a guise of innocence.

But in the end, she realized this Shen Yue really was quite dim-witted. Oh well, might as well let her stay.

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Cha Yuen, a remarkable cultivator in his previous existence, witnessed the ruthless machinations of the three formidable factions within the Qing-Yun Realm. These malevolent organizations, in their ceaseless pursuit of cultivation resources, had recklessly extinguished the lives of millions, turning once-thriving towns into barren wastelands within the span of a single night. Their nefarious deeds were shrouded in deception, as they would audaciously attribute the towns' downfall to pestilence and natural disasters.

With an iron grip on all cultivation resources and a monopoly over precious practice materials, these factions ruthlessly barred outsiders from embarking on their own cultivation journeys, reserving this privilege solely for their inner circles.

In response to their tyranny, Cha Yuen defiantly declared war against the oppressive triad. He stood alone on the battlefield, confronting insurmountable odds, and ultimately paid the ultimate price for his valiant efforts, perishing in vain. Yet, destiny had other plans for him. Cha Yuen's spirit was reborn within the fragile mortal vessel of a 16-year-old boy. Armed with the profound powers he had honed in his previous life, he resolved to carve a path of bloodshed and retribution, relentlessly battling his way back into the heart of the Qing-Yun Realm.

And so, a new chapter in his saga unfolds, as Cha Yuen embarks on an epic quest for justice and retribution.

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Somebody once told a joke.A man ran in place all his life. He worked a job he didn't love for people he couldn't stand. But at the end of the day, the number in his bank account went up.That man got a second chance at life. He woke up in another world, full of adventures and romances and monsters and gods. And floating above his head he saw the number “1”. So what did he say?“Gosh I better make the number go up.”Not today. Not for this old soul. Reborn as a beast of battle meant to live a short life and die screaming, Garek refuses. He puts the madness of skills and levels behind him and sets out to found a little farmstead. He grows crops. Maybe someday he'll get a pig, and have bacon.It's a shame the world won't let him be. It's a shame that the warmongers and level-grinders hate nothing more than a soul at peace.He put down his sword for a plowshare, but when trouble comes calling, he'll pick it up again.