The Fake Madam Disappeared - Chapter 32Vol. 1 - -

Coincidentally, indoorsy-guy Zhang Yang went to the cultivation world, being the lowest level of zombie. By using a manual book named: “ Tai Yin Refining Figures”, Zhang Yang find his own way to success and leaves a “If a zombie knows how to use a manual, nobody can stop it “ legend in the world.

- Description from Novelupdates

Mu Yang was born again in 2008, in his prime, with a beautiful girlfriend on the left and a reading system on the right.

At LV1, for every 1000 words read, +1 yuan, +1 skill experience;

……

Mu Yang is helpless: I really don’t blame me, I just want to read quietly.

Single girl, focusing on physical industry, nostalgic writing, relaxing, making up for regrets, starting with this book.

- Description from novelbuddy

Tan Shuchang had always considered himself born into a scholarly family and had also been a young star atop the honor roll, a true parasite of the upper class. He should have been holding significant local authority, receiving endless gifts, spending boundless money, enjoying innumerable years, and marrying countless concubines. How had he ended up becoming a demonic cultivator? After pondering for a long time and still not understanding, he slowly emerged from the pool of blood, deciding to think it over gradually…

The year was 2026, and the world wasn't what it used to be. Ever since the Abyss Gates cracked open three years ago, spilling monsters and dungeons across the planet, life had turned into a chaotic mess. Cities were half-ruined, half-rebuilt, and people clung to whatever normalcy they could find. Hunters—those brave or crazy enough to fight the monsters—became the new heroes. Everyone else? Well, they just tried to survive.Fin wasn't a Hunter. He wasn't a hero either.He was just… Fin. A lanky 19-year-old with messy brown hair, a chipped front tooth from a dumb skateboard accident, and a power that everyone called useless. Absorption. Sounds cool, right? Like he could suck up energy or steal someone's strength. Nope. All it did was let him “feel” things he touched a little more than normal. He could tell you the exact texture of a brick wall or how warm a coffee mug was—big whoop. No fireballs, no super strength, no flashy moves. Just a glorified touchy-feely trick.“Fin, you gonna eat that sandwich or just stare at it like it's gonna confess its life story?” Meg's voice snapped him out of his thoughts.He blinked and looked across the rickety table at his best friend. Meg was short, loud, and had a wild mop of dyed purple hair that she swore made her look “intimidating.” It didn't.