Descendants of Gibbous - Chapter 11: Backup

Qin Fen had once been abandoned and broken until, one day, he picked up a liquid metal ball that turned his life upside down.
This is the interplanetary era where Classical and Modern Wushu are competing. Classical Wushu enables followers to grow as powerful as dragons and elephants, whereas Modern Wushu enables followers to freeze monsters or even extinguish erupting volcanoes.
Qin Fen steps onto the stage of both Classical and Modern Wushu while belonging to neither. With the exquisite combination of both Classical Wushu and modern technology, he will pave a way to become a legend.
He is one of a kind, a favored son of heaven.

A maid who is beaten on behalf of a noble boy.

Some memories of her childhood were cruel, but Yuriel held no resentment towards the boy. Rather, she liked it–The hand that carefully applied medicine to her wounds was always warm.

“M-Master, stop, Raph, sa, save…ah, mm…!”
“That’s why.. I told you.. to wait.. till I returned.”

But the Raphlet that appeared in her dreams showed nothing but passion and lust.

Prophetic dreams.
The ability that was like a stigma drove Yuriel towards an unknown future.

All I want is to be next to you.

Death started her on the road of book transmigration. Transmigrating into different supporting females, snatching opportunities and men from the different worlds’ female leads’ hands. Hey, Female Lead, you can have the male lead, the supporting male is the one I want. Walking on this endless road, Xia Qiu did not expect that during these countless book transmigrations, the one she saved has always been the same person. He’s from outer space, trapped in the stream of time, with only a robot for company. Meeting her, falling for her…… However the sweetness isn’t easy. With a Boss as her man, Xia Qiu has a lot of worries. The Boss wants to bring me along as he destroys the earth, what should I do? #waiting online, quite urgent#

- Description from Novelupdates

In a world of shallow-minded, materialistic mortals, what would one from humble beginnings – whose face had been stomped on, spat on, oppressed for the longest while by the arrogant, pampered upper echelons of society – do, when a mysterious application pops up on a brand new phone that was meant to be the birthday gift of an ungrateful girlfriend? What if the application takes the form of a chatroom where its occupants, bearing the names of mythical, fictional beings, start giving out ‘Red Packets’, all the while spouting nonsense?