Xia Lun soaked in the pool, his arms resting on the edge, his back turned. The misty steam enveloped the space, obscuring his expression from Elesha, who stood behind him. All she could see were the defined muscles of his back.
"Thank you for your kindness, Miss Elesha… but I believe you should maintain some distance," Xia Lun's calm voice broke the silence. "I already have a wife."
"I… I don’t mind," Elesha murmured, her voice trembling. "Just once is enough… and no one will ever know what happens here…"
She swallowed hard, convinced that no man would refuse such an offer.
Xia Lun sighed, rubbing his forehead in exasperation.
He was truly being underestimated.
Was this a joke? Even the Demon King had been utterly subdued by him. Did this naive little girl really think she could sway him?
Besides, if he stayed in the bathhouse any longer, Liyana would undoubtedly barge in to see what was going on.
"You should leave, Miss Elesha," Xia Lun waved her off. "I won’t betray my wife."
"Is it because I’m too young? Because I lack charm?" Elesha’s voice quivered. "I… I truly need you…"
"Need me for what?"
"To… to bear your child and continue the bloodline of the Norman Family…" Her reply was barely audible.
"Did Lady Lanxia send you?" Xia Lun immediately saw through the scheme. "Forgive my bluntness, Miss Elesha, but engaging in such an act with someone you don’t love is utterly foolish."
"But… I’ve heard that you’re a kind man, Xia Lun. I don’t dislike you at all." Elesha lowered her gaze, staring at her pale toes.
"I’ll be leaving soon. Do you really think a single encounter would guarantee a child? That’s hardly realistic."
Xia Lun had no intention of acting recklessly and tried to persuade her to leave. If this situation escalated, it would tarnish both their reputations.
"For the sake of the Norman bloodline, I’m willing to take that gamble."
"Is bloodline truly so important?" Xia Lun’s voice softened, as if he already held the upper hand.
"What do you mean, Xia Lun?" Elesha looked startled. "Of course it’s important. The Norman lineage has endured for generations. If it ends with me, how could I face our ancestors in the afterlife?"
"After death, there’s nothing—no consciousness, no meeting your ancestors." Xia Lun spoke with certainty.
He knew this better than anyone.
"Even so… I can’t let it end… The Norman bloodline is noble…"
"Bloodlines aren’t inherently noble or lowly. We’re all just people," Xia Lun continued nonchalantly, drying himself while still submerged, out of Elesha’s sight. "What makes the Norman lineage special? Do you possess something others lack? Or is your magical talent superior?"
Elesha bit her lip, visibly embarrassed by his words.
Xia Lun had already noticed—her magical energy was faint, far from qualifying her as a mage.
After all, the Norman Family wasn’t known for producing great sorcerers.
"There’s no need to cling to bloodline traditions… You should think about living for yourself, Miss Elesha."
Elesha stood frozen, her mind reeling.
No one had ever spoken to her like this before. Her grandmother’s commands had always dictated her life.
"Take the legendary Hero, for example. Do you know if his bloodline still exists?" Xia Lun coughed lightly, pressing further.
"Probably… not," Elesha whispered.
After all, anyone who claimed to be the Hero’s descendant was exposed as a fraud and publicly shamed. Eventually, no one dared to call themselves Xia Lun’s heirs.
"See? Bloodlines mean nothing. Don’t chain yourself to empty ideals. Everyone deserves freedom. Even if your family declines, so what? As long as you’re alive, you should pursue what you desire, Miss Elesha."
Xia Lun stepped out of the pool, a towel wrapped around his waist.
"I… should do what I want…" Elesha murmured, lost in thought.
Xia Lun approached her and gently patted her shoulder. "So, what’s your dream, Miss Elesha?"
After all his earnest advice, she must have understood.
He knew this was Lady Lanxia’s scheme—Elesha wasn’t acting of her own will. Xia Lun could sense her nervousness and innocence; she was still an inexperienced girl.
"Xia Lun… When I was little, I always dreamed that a Hero would come to save me… take me away from the manor, on adventures, to see the world…"
Elesha looked up, her breath quickening, eyes burning with intensity—as if her emotions could materialize into hearts. "I think I’ve found my Hero now… Xia Lun…"
Xia Lun: "…"
This wasn’t how he expected things to unfold.
In his mind, she’d recall some innocent childhood aspiration—"Ah, I wanted to be a painter!"—then pick up a brush and live her dream.
But reality had other plans.
"Xia Lun… Please… take me. I’ll give you everything… I’ll do anything you ask…" Her gaze was fervent, reminiscent of the desire he’d seen in Aina’s eyes.
Xia Lun hadn’t anticipated Elesha’s personality.
Years of repression had turned her emotions into a volcano, erupting the moment she found an outlet.
This was trouble.
Xia Lun could never reciprocate her feelings. To him, Elesha was still a child… and this situation was a world-ending crisis in the making.
"Miss Elesha… I can’t accept your feelings," he sighed. "I love my wife deeply. There’s no future for us."
"I… I see! It’s because of your wife, isn’t it? You seem… afraid of her." Elesha’s eyes widened in realization.
Xia Lun: "…"
How did she figure that out?
Ridiculous. He wasn’t afraid of Aina. She’d fulfill any request he made… probably.
"So… if I become stronger, more exceptional than Aina… you’d choose me instead?" Her eyes sparkled with hope.
"Well… you could try, I suppose." Xia Lun awkwardly averted his gaze.
"Alright, I will! Lord Xia Lun! I'll keep getting stronger!" Elesha clenched her fist, as if filled with boundless determination. "Wait for me, Lord Xia Lun. One day, I'll take you away from Miss Aina's side!"
rowess are unmatched, commanding a million-strong army! Yet, the Emperor wants to depose him for the sake of a false prince? Hold on, are you throwing me into some female-oriented romance plot? How can I tolerate this? With a grand wave of his hand—the Nine Clan Extraction Technique! Slander the Emperor? Very well, all of you shall die! ... The False Prince: "Although I am not the biological son, Father and Mother love me more. The throne should be mine!" The Female Lead: "Qin Xiao, you are the Emperor, and I am a commoner. If you wish to marry me, you must abdicate. Otherwise, you will never have me!" The Empress: "After we divorce, you must give me half the empire!" The Transmigrator Consort: "You worthless Emperor, why should I kneel to you? All men are equal—I advise you to be kind!" The Great General: "The enemy general is my childhood sweetheart. For her sake, I willingly abandon the frontier defenses!" The Retired Emperor: "Although Yu'er was adopted, I prefer him. Qin Xiao, you should abdicate and let him become Emperor!" ... Very well! So this is how you want to play? Facing this twisted world of female-oriented tropes, Qin Xiao grins and raises his hand to unleash—the Nine Clan Extraction Technique! I am the Emperor. Why would I bother reasoning with you? Seal the gates! Leave none alive!
g Yu was preparing for retirement when her organization decided to eliminate her. She transmigrated to a zombie apocalypse world. However, a tiny unexpected situation occurred: She somehow transformed into an adorable little girl?!
ive and Ruthless] Before his transmigration, Ye Xuan was playing a game called "Severing Emotions to Attain the Dao." The game's core wasn't about leveling up by fighting monsters, but about conquering various "bad women" with wicked personalities and cold, fickle natures. There was only one method to conquer them: stay unwaveringly by their side, then die at a critical moment, driving them to madness after losing the protagonist. The higher their level of regret, the higher the player's score. To dominate the server, Ye Xuan conquered all the bad women. In the early stages, he showered them with boundless tenderness, only to choose to sacrifice himself for them later, making them weep bitterly and drown in regret. Among them were: Xia Lengyue, the unfaithful immortal wife who chased after powerful men and discarded her husband like trash. Ye Qingcheng, the Demonic Venerable of the Joyous Union Sect, who appeared pure and innocent but was, in reality, promiscuous. Wu Lingxiao, the Empress of the Great Xia Dynasty, who lusted after men and loved maintaining a harem. Bai Qiangu of the Endless Demonic Sect: a bloodthirsty mass murderer. However, when the protagonist transmigrated into the game world, he made a horrifying discovery. Eight hundred years had already passed. The bad women he had conquered had now each become deities and revered ancestors. Faced with the endless stream of toxic women coming for him, Ye Xuan could only rely on his god-tier acting skills to carve a path of survival through this world of treacherous women.
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.”
