There's definitely something wrong with this murder mystery game - Chapter 240 - 225: Weapons

Lingyun, a fierce and savage cultivation genius takes over a dead teenager’s body. Coincidentally, they are both named Lingyun. Set in a alternate version of the 21st century, teenager Lingyun has been killed by someone with a grudge.

- Description from Novelupdates

When we met for the first time in our first year of high school, he saw my contempt, but silently continued to clean;

Sangyan turned into a widow known to bring misfortune to her husband. Despised by her in-laws and disdained by her own family, she volunteered to retire to a remote estate to live out her days. At this moment, she caught the eye of a tyrannical emperor with a strange illness - being near a woman caused him unbearable itching and relentless vomiting.Hence, the 26-year-old emperor had never favored any of his consorts, let alone sired any heirs. The imperial harem constantly pressured him for offspring. The common people also yearned for a royal heir. When they learned that the tyrant held affection for Sangyan, the widow with the ill-fated destiny, the entire nation opposed their union.Eventually, the entire country pleaded with Sangyan to bear children for the sickly and tyrannical emperor...Beauty widow with a deadly fate VS Emperor with allergy to women

An Yin, a delicate beauty caught in a risky charade, pretends to date playboy Bo Cheng to escape her troubles—until she meets his brother, ​Bo Shaojin: the ruthless, untouchable CEO whose icy dominance rules both boardrooms and high society.Their first encounter crackles with sizzling tension. Shaojin’s piercing gaze lingers on An Yin, his brother’s “girlfriend,” as she trembles under his scrutiny. But when their paths collide again—her, half-dressed and panic-stricken in his bathroom; him, a storm of restraint and hunger—the line between duty and desire shatters.As An Yin’s fake relationship unravels, Shaojin’s ironclad control dissolves. Drunk on obsession, he corners her in a midnight confession, his hardened facade crumbling as he vows, “I won’t touch you…” But his hands whisper promises his words deny.