Ming Xiaowei once again doubted the matter.
Si, however, fell silent, as if desperately trying to conceal some damning evidence.
But unfortunately, Ming Xiaowei’s hearing was too sharp, and she wasn’t stupid.
“So who is she? Why do I keep running into her in every world?” Ming Xiaowei questioned Si in a serious tone for the first time.
Si let out a light sigh.
“If you insist on asking like this,” she said, her eyes flickering with something complicated, “Ah, I know, but I just won’t tell you.”
Xiaowei: ???
Damn it.
“So will I see her in the next world?” Ming Xiaowei thought carefully—she had encountered her in nearly every world so far.
That meant the next one was likely no exception.
“Maybe. Though there might be exceptions.” This time, Si wasn’t lying to Ming Xiaowei.
While most books on the shelf contained fragments of her soul, it wasn’t impossible for some to have perished if they were too small.
“So who is she really?” Ming Xiaowei pressed.
Si: ……
“Give it up. I’m not telling you.”
At this point, Ming Xiaowei’s imagination ran wild, and she suddenly had an epiphany.
“I know!”
Si’s heart skipped a beat.
“You must be the daughter I had with Ning Moqing in a past life, right?” Ming Xiaowei exclaimed, excited and delighted.
Si: ?
She smacked her forehead.
She had almost forgotten—she appeared before Ming Xiaowei as a little girl, so of course Ming Xiaowei wouldn’t suspect her.
“No,” Si replied through gritted teeth.
“Oh.” Ming Xiaowei’s response was icy.
This was just like someone sending you a message before bed—“I need to tell you something.”
And then they don’t say another word all night.
Absolutely infuriating.
She was itching with curiosity.
“Anyway, you told me before about my past lives—the one where I had the best luck, I had a wife, right? Is it her?”
Ming Xiaowei felt like she was getting close to the truth.
After nearly ten minutes of silence, just as Ming Xiaowei was about to reach the villa, she finally heard Si mutter an “Mm.”
So she was right.
Except in that life, she…
Oh right, she had been a man.
Now, letting her wife take the lead might seem embarrassing if word got out.
Ah, whatever. After lying low through so many worlds, she might as well keep doing it.
Xiaowei had already accepted her role and identity.
Not having to work herself to death was a pretty sweet deal.
“Xiaowei, what are you spacing out for?” Ji Cheng’s voice reached her ears.
Ming Xiaowei looked down at the water overflowing from the kettle in her hand, yelped in pain, and quickly set it aside.
See? Distractions led to mistakes.
“You okay?” Ji Cheng wheeled closer, her lips pursing slightly as she eyed Ming Xiaowei’s reddened fingertips.
“It’s fine. The water wasn’t too hot.” Ming Xiaowei dried her hands with a towel.
“Do you like the room?” Ming Xiaowei asked Ji Cheng.
The master bedroom on the second floor didn’t have a balcony, but it did have a large floor-to-ceiling window overlooking the garden and lake outside the villa.
The shimmering water was exactly the kind of view Ji Cheng loved.
“I…” She paused, then her eyes curved ever so slightly. “...love it.”
Ming Xiaowei studied Ji Cheng’s expression of approval—if Ji Cheng hadn’t spoken, she would’ve thought it was just an eyelid twitch.
So, after these days in the hospital, the sweetly smiling Ji Cheng was gone.
Replaced by… Stone-Faced Cheng.
Ming Xiaowei mentally grumbled, but she couldn’t resist asking.
“What did you mean by sending me 52 yuan?”
Ji Cheng sipped her water, her demeanor as poised and elegant as ever.
Could someone like her really blush and lose control?
Xiaowei’s mind couldn’t help but wander into wild fantasies.
“It means exactly what you think it means.” Ji Cheng lifted her gaze slightly, revealing her slender, graceful neck. Though her expression remained unreadable, Ming Xiaowei felt an irresistible pull.
She even gulped audibly.
Ji Cheng smoothly wheeled closer and reached out to close the bedroom door.
“Xiaowei…” she murmured, her eyes faintly tinged with red.
And Ming Xiaowei was already flustered.
Why close the door?
No no no, this is too much.
Wifey is being way too bold.
Ji Cheng suddenly took her hand, slowly unfurling Ming Xiaowei’s plump, fair fingers. Ming Xiaowei felt an inexplicable tension.
“I know you like me,” Ji Cheng stated abruptly.
Xiaowei: Huh?
Wait, wasn’t she asking about the 52-yuan red packet?
How did this turn into a confession?
“When I kissed you before, you didn’t resist. Does that mean… other things too?” By now, Ming Xiaowei was pressed against the wall, like a mouse cornered by a cat. She even subconsciously crouched slightly to match Ji Cheng’s height.
No, can’t look.
Too awkward. Just meeting Ji Cheng’s unusually deep, serene gaze made her ears burn.
“Look at me,” Ji Cheng commanded, gripping her hands with an unyielding tone.
“No.” Ming Xiaowei stood her ground.
Ji Cheng seemed to smile. “Fine. I won’t force you. Though I don’t understand why you like me.”
Ming Xiaowei: ???
That’s backwards.
It’s Ji Cheng who started liking her first—why was she still so damn tsundere?
Would this woman die if she stopped being tsundere?
Ming Xiaowei was seriously starting to wonder.
Maybe she really would.
“Don’t talk nonsense. You’re the one who likes me,” Ming Xiaowei retorted, turning her face away—only to realize how off she sounded.
Why was she so shy?
Or was this world’s Ji Cheng just hitting all the right notes?
Damn it!
Ming Xiaowei cursed inwardly.
Ji Cheng, however, went still, her brows slightly furrowed as if deep in thought.
After a long pause, Ming Xiaowei watched her pull out her phone.
She transferred all her money to WeChat, kept only enough for this semester’s living expenses and next year’s tuition, and sent the rest to Ming Xiaowei.
“What’s this for?” Ming Xiaowei eyed her skeptically.
“Are you embarrassed?” Ji Cheng asked.
“No, what nonsense!” Ming Xiaowei reflexively denied.
“Eyes darting, answering too fast—you’re obviously lying.” Ji Cheng hadn’t read all those books for nothing. She might not know much else, but Xiaowei’s thoughts were always written all over her face.
Ming Xiaowei: ……
“You’re bullying me.” Her voice was a mix of grievance and frustration, sticky-sweet like something straight out of a romance novel.
Ji Cheng found it oddly endearing—this version of Xiaowei was strikingly similar to the female lead in those stories.
This site is about to undergo a major upgrade, adding more books and timely chapter updates.
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.”
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.
u Chenyuan transmigrated into a female-oriented novel about a real and fake heiress, becoming the CEO elder brother of both. Unfortunately, the entire Lu family—including himself, the CEO—were mere cannon fodder in the story. Determined to save himself, Lu Chenyuan took action. The spoiled, attention-seeking fake heiress? Thrown into the harsh realities of the working class to learn humility. The love-struck real heiress? Pushed toward academic excellence, so lofty goals would blind her to trivial romances. As for the betrayed, vengeful arranged marriage wife… the plot hadn’t even begun yet. There was still time—if he couldn’t handle her, he could at least avoid her. "CEO Lu, are you avoiding me?" Mo Qingli fixed her gaze on Lu Chenyuan. For the first time, the shrewd and calculating Lu Chenyuan felt a flicker of unease.
pression Bureau] Transported to a fantasy world overrun by demons and monsters, Gu Qingfeng becomes a jailer in the Demon Suppression Prison of the Great Yan Dynasty's Demon Suppression Bureau. From this point on, bizarre cases frequently occur in the Demon Suppression Prison, once known as hell on earth and infamous for its gloomy, terrifying atmosphere! Why do the demons and monsters in the prison wail miserably every night? Why has the corpse demon, capable of transforming into various beauties, donned black stockings and switched careers to become a foot massage therapist? Why has the eye demon, expert in soul-snatching and illusions, turned into a VR headset? Why is the fox spirit performing otaku dances? Are all these occurrences a twisted expression of demonic nature, or a descent into moral depravity? After peeling away layer upon layer of mystery, all clues ultimately point to a jailer named Gu Qingfeng. Gu Qingfeng: "Hehehe... My dear demons and monsters, whose card shall we flip today?"
