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... ming appearance of the other party.

Everyone said that becoming a bride is the most beautiful moment in the life of every girl. At this time, Bai Xue interpreted this sentence vividly. The young girl who was about to enter the wedding hall was wearing a sacred wedding gown layered with light gauze. A transparent white veil was caged on Ufa with a platinum crown in it. She stood in the doorway, staring at the darkness, beautiful.

The invisible beauty seems to be fluttering into the ...

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“Coming live to you, from Cerou Street, this is MBP News, and we have an unfolding situation to report. Late last night, at approximately 3:00 AM, an explosive-like sound reverberated through this area, disrupting the sleep of residents and instilling fear in their hearts,” the news anchor, a striking figure, delivered the report with poise, standing before the camera amidst a bustling scene.

In the background, the blaring horns of ambulances and police vehicles disturbed the serenity of the beautiful morning light. Two individuals wearing protective suits, presumably forensic experts, held a stretcher carrying a charred body.

The news anchor, who had been reporting earlier, placed a hand on her ear, fitted with an earpiece, and looked visibly surprised. Her voice filled with urgency as she continued, “We have just received an update from our headquarters regarding the sole fatality in this unexpected incident. The victim of this tragic event is none other than Norman, the famous gigolo of Night palace.”

“My colleague, who was set to cover an event today at Nightplace, obtained this information firsthand from Countess Maria, who held a special place for Norman in her heart. Our focus this morning is on this breaking news,” the female news reporter continued amidst the chaotic scene, while Norman's charred body lay alone in the ambulance.

Meanwhile, in a different world, a young boy lay fast asleep with his head on the table. The sun, seemingly displeased with the boy's carefree slumber, cast its rays directly onto his face. Annoyed by the intrusion, the boy shifted his head in another direction, unwilling to be roused from his deep sleep.

*ZZZr Zzrz Zzrzzr* However, an additional source disturbed his sleep, filling the room with a buzzing sound. The boy furrowed his brows in annoyance, his eyes still closed. He searched his surroundings and discovered a glass-like slab. With closed eyes, he slid his finger across it and placed it near his ear.

“Hello...” he mumbled in his drowsy voice, which carried a hint of depth.

“Hey, Pissed-up Prat, where are you?” a voice laced with disdain emanated from the slab.

The boy, referred to as the “Pissed-up Prat” by the irritating female voice, recognized it as a voice he heard frequently but couldn't recall its owner. With his eyes still closed, he inquired, “Who is this?”

“What do you mean, 'who is this'? Wake up, come home, or eat shit for breakfast if you prefer!” the voice behind the transparent slab retorted before falling silent.

The boy, still not fully awakened, gazed at the half-opened glass slab with a mixture of confusion and surprise. As his eyes darted around the room, he became increasingly shocked.

As he recollected the fragmented memories from the night before he lost consciousness, his gaze fell upon the entrance of the shop. Once old and damp, it now bore a different appearance. While not transformed into a luxurious space, it had undergone improvements compared to its previously dilapidated state.

The shop took on a rectangular shape, with one longer side adorned with wooden shelves intricately patterned. Rows of empty glass jars lined these shelves. On the opposite side, there was another wooden shelf, also displaying empty jars. Towards the beginning of the counter, where the boy had been sleeping, there stood a peculiar machine.

Confusion etched across his face, he murmured to himself, “Whose shop is this?”

In response to his question, a mechanical voice resonated in his mind.

[The Omnistore belongs to you, host.]

……………………………………………………………

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Somewhere along the road, he ran into Jiang Xiaozhai, a young woman who’s got the brains, the beauty, and maybe one or two secrets of her own. As it turned out, the two made a perfect team—Mulder-and-Scully style. Motivated by many unanswered questions, they had been running up and down the country, getting into all kinds of trouble, and learning more of the modern cultivation world, which is by no means the same as in the ages long past…

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As a rising Formula One race car driver, Ye Ci had always been criticized.

“Aloof and indifferent, unable to be reasoned with.”

“Suspected to have a mental illness, is this person really suitable for the track?”

“He doesn’t really love the sport, racing is just his way of venting his violent emotions.”

Huo Tinglan’s demeanor was always elegant and protective in front of the media, and he said that his husband was just quiet and introverted. After five years of marriage, they respected each other and were quite harmonious.

It was not until Ye Ci died unexpectedly during a race that Huo Tinglan gradually realized . . . . . .

He wasn’t quiet and introverted, but instead lifeless. Before finding his refuge, Ye Ci had gone through too many dark and painful moments.

After enduring years of suffering and longing, Huo Tinglan was unexpectedly reborn. Ye Ci was only eighteen years old this year, and everything was within reach.

Huo Tinglan was cheeky and went directly to his door to ask for a kiss.

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