The Extreme Alchemist of the Mighty Cauldron - Chapter 1786 - 1883: A Familiar Name

“Qu Meng’er was born with a silver spoon in her mouth, but her father had tampered with her brakes and ended her life in a car accident.

Summary 1) Tang Yuan suffered from a strange illness, so because of this, Tang Yuan pounced upon Xie Yu. A month later, Tang Yuan discovered that Xie Yu was a big shot in the world of tianshi (Taoist Masters), his existence the greatest fear of numerous ghosts. But that big shot was now obligated to marry him, because he was carrying the big shot’s steamed bun.

One year later:
Xie Yu: “Isn’t it time for our pup to be born?”
Two years later:
Xie Yu: “Don’t worry about it. Maybe you’re carrying a nezha (protection deity who was carried for 3.5 years in mother’s womb)?”
Three years later:
Xie Yu: “You really are probably carrying a nezha!”
Ten Years later:
Xie Yu: “Shall we not just give birth to this child? Since he’s obviously not ready, let’s beat him up!”
Pup: “I will remember this animosity for the rest of my life!”

After being carried for ten years and one month, the steamed bun was finally born. The steamed bun was white and tender at birth, extremely loveable. But on just his first day after being born, the steamed bun kicked his father, Xie Yu, in the face with his tender foot.

Summary 2) After Tang Yuan became pregnant with a steamed bun, life was a little difficult, with catching ghosts and also giving prenatal education to their child, yes, prenatal education. But he did teach, he taught for ten whole years. Then Tang Yuan said: Who wants a bratty steamed bun? Who wants me to give them one?

Shou, Tang Yuan, a heavens-defying genius VS Gong, Xie Yu, with off the charts gentleness

Not a scientific/natural pregnancy, no pregnant belly, the steamed bun is born in the final arc (though the steamed bun often appears), fluffy supernatural story, try not to be too scared.

- Description from Novelupdates

A young man sat on a chair and looked out at the ocean. With one wisp of Spirit Qi, he could point anywhere on this vast and expansive world, pointing at any place that didn’t look right.

Someone once became the last one to wield a knife that could decapitate huge dragons and bathed in dragons’ blood. Someone once loved treating others to chicken soup, so he kept nine phoenixes in his backyard.

Someone once sat lazily on the top of mountains as his words flooded river banks, and his qi could hold a million soldiers back. Someone once moved mountains and shifted hills with just one brush, his paintings so captivating it could enchant immortals and deities.

That year, the warmth of spring made the flowers bloom. They were merely an ordinary butcher, a bookworm, a chicken farmer and a poor artist. This is the story of how a Low Level Martial World Continent was transformed into the Ultimate Fantasy Universe.

- Description from Qidian

“They Call Guys Like Me a Simp.”(Meanwhile, I’m out here living what their favorite MC only dreams about.)You ever notice how stories glorify the ones who feel nothing?The MC who never laughs.Never feels.Who plays women like chess pieces and calls it intelligence.He manipulates a girl? “He’s strategic.”He never opens up? “He’s mysterious.”He never flinches, never laughs, never lives —And you call that strength?Funny.Because to me?That’s just a prison in disguise.You see an “alpha.”I see a boy too scared to feel anything real.While they spend ten chapters monologuing about logic and sacrifice,I’m already making the Saintess scream,drenched in sin,halo cracked,legs trembling from truths her prayers never taught her.And I didn’t get there with cold eyes or control.I got there with laughter and chill. With warmth. With a grin and a hand on her thigh.I didn’t need to dominate her mind —I freed her heart.But that scares people, doesn’t it?Because readers trust the ones who suffer.Who stay quiet.Who kill without blinking and love without showing it.But me?I flirt.I laugh.I take hits and smile back, bloody and defiant, as if too weak to get angry.I don’t need to pretend emotions are weakness.I weaponize mine.Pleasure. Connection. Laughter.That’s my arsenal.And while your favorite MC is still calculating his next five moves,Trying to outwit death and romance like both are math problems,I’m already balls deep in the jade fairy — her sacred yin furnace clenching like it’s worshipping my shaft, her Dao Echo shattered into breathless moans, and her so-called cultivation path leaking down her thighs while she begs me to break her meridians again.You call that luck?Nah.That’s mastery of the three worlds.Because in a world that respects coldness,I came in hot.Where others manipulate, I connect.Where they posture, I play.Where they sacrifice, I seduce.So go ahead.Call me a simp.But while your genius MC is busy monologuing about destiny,I’m the one making goddesses question theirs —with a smirk, a touch, and no regrets.I’m not the hero.Not the villain.I’m just a simp… the kind who leaves your cold, emotionless MC’s woman dripping, ruined, and too stretched to go back to him.