"What's the matter, is Aina busy?"
"Yes, Mother is occupied at the moment."
"What is she doing?" Wolund was somewhat surprised. In all his previous visits, he had never encountered such a situation.
Mida pondered for a moment before replying, "She's doing what she loves."
Wolund blinked, a large question mark seemingly appearing above his head. "Aina... has hobbies?"
He truly couldn't imagine that existence ever showing an expression of joy.
In all his years, from childhood to now, Aina's expression had never seemed to change.
"Anyway, you can't go up now... though if you want to die, you could always try," Mida said with utter seriousness, not seeming to joke in the slightest. "Just so you know, I wouldn’t dare collect your corpse in front of Mother."
"Alright, I get it. I’ll wait here." Wolund shrugged helplessly and sat cross-legged on the snow without hesitation.
"But... what exactly is Aina doing? Some forbidden magic experiment?"
"If you want to die, you can keep asking."
Mida was munching on an Anana family sausage, which was thick as a forearm. She held it with both hands like a hamster, her words slightly muffled as she chewed.
But she ate quickly—shlurp, shlurp—and in the blink of an eye, a large chunk had vanished.
Seems I guessed right, Wolund thought to himself.
If it couldn’t be disclosed... it must be something truly forbidden. Perhaps she was dealing with eldritch gods beyond this world. After all, given Aina’s power, Wolund couldn’t think of anything that would still be taboo for her.
...
The debauchery lasted three days.
Though Xia Lun didn’t want to use that word to describe himself—he was, after all, a former hero and still had some dignity to uphold—he couldn’t think of a more fitting term.
"You’re amazing... Xia Lun... I’m thoroughly satisfied." Aina bared everything before him without reservation. "As expected... of my hero."
"Is there... someone outside?" Xia Lun gently stroked Aina’s bat-like wings, the membranous flesh pulsing with sensitive nerves, drawing a soft, enticing moan from her.
Since yesterday, he had sensed a presence cautiously brushing against the barrier Aina had erected around the cabin.
If he could detect it, Aina surely knew as well, so Xia Lun didn’t dwell on it. His task was to keep Aina entertained.
"Ah, you mean Mida?" Aina yawned lightly. "She’s a child I adopted, living here with me... I already told her not to disturb us these days. If she’s looking for me, it must be something trivial, since her consciousness hasn’t breached the barrier."
Aina snapped her fingers, her wings folding away as an elegant black gown materialized over her body.
A finely crafted robe draped over Xia Lun as well, its inner lining etched with fire-attribute magic arrays that radiated a comfortable warmth.
Amid the howling snowstorm, a knock sounded at the door.
"Come in," Aina responded.
A girl with long, water-blue hair pushed the door open, then carefully closed it behind her.
She appeared no older than twelve or thirteen, her doll-like face delicate with a hint of baby fat, though her expression was as stiff as porcelain.
Her dress shimmered in pearlescent blues and whites, adorned with frost crystals and snowflakes woven into its folds.
"Mother," the girl called softly.
"This child is the last of the Chaos Dragon Clan—Mida," Aina explained to Xia Lun.
"Hello, Mida." Xia Lun extended his hand.
Mida glanced at Aina, as if seeking permission.
"Call him Father."
"Father."
Instead of shaking his hand, Mida clasped Xia Lun’s arm and guided his palm to rest atop her head.
Her hair was cool to the touch, pleasantly soothing.
"Should I give her a gift or something?" Xia Lun blurted out.
Then he immediately felt awkward.
Right now, he was practically penniless—even the clothes he wore were Aina’s. A half-frozen beggar on the street would have more possessions than him.
"No need to be so formal with her." Aina chuckled but still conjured a sapphire-blue ice crystal and handed it to Mida. "This is your father’s gift."
Mida’s eyes instantly sparkled as she clutched the crystal and began nibbling on it like a biscuit, mumbling, "Thank you, Father..."
Knock, knock, knock—
Moments later, another knock came at the door.
"Come in," Aina answered again.
Wolund stepped inside.
"Mida, why did you lock me out? And for some reason, the snowstorm outside suddenly got worse..." Wolund grumbled.
Mida, happily gnawing on her ice crystal, glanced up at him. "I don’t know..."
Wolund ignored her, his attention entirely fixed on the other man in the room.
He... was alive?
He was actually alive!
A tidal wave of shock crashed through Wolund’s mind, leaving him frozen, unsure of what to say.
As Wolund studied Xia Lun, Xia Lun studied him in return.
Short, flaxen hair; a handsome face; appearing around thirty, though likely older.
"Aina... is he...?" Wolund turned to Aina in disbelief.
"Xia Lun, let me introduce you... This is Wolund," Aina said, ignoring the man and speaking to Xia Lun instead. "Over the years... he’s visited occasionally to keep me company."
Xia Lun’s gaze sharpened instantly.
What was this man’s relationship with Aina? He dared address her so casually?
Though Xia Lun didn’t believe Aina would betray him... a thousand years had passed, and his own time with her had been less than a century...
A bitter taste rose in his heart.
After everything Aina had sacrificed for him, even if something unexpected had happened, he had no right to blame her.
But...
Thinking it was one thing. Accepting it was another.
Wolund suddenly felt his body stiffen, as if an invisible blade hovered before his heart—inescapable.
His legs nearly buckled, but he steadied himself just in time to avoid collapsing.
"Xia Lun, what are you doing? Rein in your aura—you’ll scare the child." Aina’s eyes glinted with playful amusement, as if she’d guessed his thoughts, and she gently stroked the back of his hand.
"Child?" Xia Lun blinked.
"Yes," Aina counted on her fingers. "Wolund here is our eleventh-generation descendant."
transmigrates into the world as the sect master of the Heavenly Yan Sect, which is on the verge of being wiped out. He binds a system that grants him cultivation power based on the number of disciples he has: for each disciple, he automatically gains a year's worth of cultivation every single day! Take one disciple: every day he gains 1 year of cultivation power. While others struggle through a year of bitter training, he gets the same just by sleeping through a single night. Take ten disciples: every day he gains 10 years of cultivation power. Foundation Establishment, Core Formation, Nascent Soul—he breezes through all bottlenecks without lifting a finger. Take one hundred disciples: every day he gains 100 years of cultivation power. Even a Soul Transformation Venerable before him can’t survive a single blow. Take ten thousand disciples: every day he gains 10,000 years of cultivation power! With a wave of his hand, he topples empires. With a single step, he crushes the sacred grounds of the universe. ... While others fight tooth and nail for secret techniques, Lin Yan casually hands out Nascent Soul-level cultivation manuals as beginner textbooks. While others strain to find talented recruits, Lin Yan opens his doors to anyone—so long as they’re human. In just three short years, the Heavenly Yan Sect went from a backwater sect made up of three crumbling huts to a sacred land that every cultivator under heaven would kill to enter. ... One day, otherworldly demon gods invade, with a million demon soldiers pressing down upon the realm. Lin Yan, yawning, rises from his lounge chair and glances at the system panel: [Current Disciples: 1.28 million] [Daily Cultivation Increase: 1.28 million years] He waves his hand casually, and the countless demon soldiers are reduced to ashes in an instant. “So noisy… interrupting my fishing.”
ing gift was a patch of barren land, and disciples were all picked up along the way. He spent fifty years diligently building three "ramshackle little sects," thinking he could finally live a carefree life relying on his disciples. But right at the fifty-year mark, he was suddenly swept away by a spatial rift and exiled to the Chaos Desolation, the Disorderly Ruins. There was no spiritual energy there, only slaughter. Relying on the cultivation feedback from his disciples, Gu Changyuan hacked his way through a sea of blood for eleven hundred years. When the system finally fished him back out, he discovered the ramshackle little sects he'd built back then had developed a rather... unusual style. Hold on... I vanished for a thousand years, so how did my ramshackle little sects become holy lands?!
close your eyes and open them again, only to find yourself transmigrated into the role of a villainous male supporting character. Readers familiar with urban wish-fulfillment novels know that it is only through the relentless antics of the villainous male supporting character that the plot between the male and female leads can progress. As the villainous male supporting character, Long Aotian not only has to bully the female lead, harass the second female lead, and flirt with the third female lead, but he also has to go all out to antagonize the male lead. In the end, when his body is discovered, he is still clutching half a moldy fried dough stick in his hand. Fully aware of the plot, Long Aotian is determined to change his fate, starting with the female lead! In the beginning, the female lead lacks confidence: "Big brother, I hope I didn't scare you?" In the middle, the female lead treads carefully: "Brother Long, please don't hit me, okay?" Later on, the female lead becomes coquettishly clingy: "Aotian, it's time to pay the 'public grain' tonight." Long Aotian's legs go weak, and he feels like crying: "I taught you to be thick-skinned, not shameless!"
lanned to earn money steadily and take life at a slower pace. But he never expected... his father's remarriage, and the stepmother bringing along a dependent, would completely disrupt his life's plans...
