Ti Shen - Volume 1 Chapter 28

Thirty Years East, Thirty Years West. Don’t you bully the young and poor!Split open the sky!Go against Heaven!Sick and tired of that kind of cultivation quote and troupe? The never-ending long grind that seemed to have one world after another once you supposedly reached the false apexes?Well, it’s time to broaden your horizons! You shall now be blessed with the perspective of someone who’s at the top of the top: Ye Ming.Someone who had foolishly decided to experience mortal life before realizing how crap it was. It was time to return to his real life.“I wasn’t born with a diamond spoon, but born with the endgame life.” Ye Ming laughed sinisterly. He was the sole Young Master of a family who dominated everything already.Trash cultivation? Trash spiritual roots? Trash background?Sorry, but that ain’t Ye Ming!However, he does have one great and relatable trait: procrastination.

A story about a traveler who crossed into a parallel universe, relying on his Proficiency ability to continuously grind experience and become stronger.

Empires rise and fall on the Yulan Continent. Saints, immortal beings of unimaginable power, battle using spells and swords, leaving swathes of destruction in their wake. Magical beasts rule the mountains, where the brave – or the foolish – go to test their strength. Even the mighty can fall, feasted on by those stronger. The strong live like royalty; the weak strive to survive another day.

This is the world which Linley is born into. Raised in the small town of Wushan, Linley is a scion of the Baruch clan, the clan of the once-legendary Dragonblood Warriors. Their fame once shook the world, but the clan is now so decrepit that even the heirlooms of the clan have been sold off. Tasked with reclaiming the lost glory of his clan, Linley will go through countless trials and tribulations, making powerful friends but also deadly enemies.

Come witness a new legend in the making. The legend of Linley Baruch!

Three rejections. Three shattered dreams. That was Layla’s reality, all because she was different—a half-shifter in a world obsessed with purity. Ostracized, shunned, and finally sold off like a pawn to the most feared ruler alive—the Lycan King. He was ruthless, a king with a graveyard of brides, each one a ghostly reminder of a fate worse than death.Layla loathed him. Hated the way his gaze cold and fathomless, held no warmth for her. Hated how his touch, both thrilling and terrifying, sent an uninvited chill down her spine.---“I hate you!” I screamed, hands clenched so tight my knuckles ached.He sighed, a smirk curling at the edge of his lips, his tone mocking as he closed his book with a deliberate snap. “Stressed, are we?” he asked, strolling toward me, each step reminding me exactly who held the power here.“Lucky for you,” he drawled, rolling up his sleeves as he stopped just inches away, “I know exactly 70 ways to ease those nerves.” His fingers brushed my cheek, a touch that seemed to burn into my skin. “The first… a hug.” His voice dropped to a rough whisper as he leaned in, breath hot against my ear. “And the rest... well, that's 69? what do you say about that?”I swallowed hard, my heart thudding wildly as he tilted his head, waiting for me to react, that insufferable smirk still in place.“What’s the matter, darling?” he murmured, a taunt lingering in his gaze.---A Dangerous ObsessionCan she resist the pull, or will she dance into the flames of her own destruction?A dark dive into obsession, raw need, and the razor’s edge between desire and devastation.---LYCAN KING CASSIANI will tear her apart piece by piece, feeding the wildfire that grips her with each shuddered breath. Like air to flame, I’ll claim every inch, drawing heat from her skin until it sinks into her bones.Her pulse will race under my hands, her breaths shallow, pleading. Her eyes may scream, but her lips will still murmur my name. That first taste of fear will only feed something deeper—a need that burns through her veins, molten and fierce.And just when she’s too far gone to turn back, I’ll twist the knife, giving her the pain she’s learned to crave.She’ll be the moth to my flame, helpless against the very thing that will consume her.