The Female Psychology PhD Who Time Traveled to the Royal Harem - Chapter 41: Sweet Nothings

Jun Xiaomo, notoriously known as “Lady Demoness”, finds herself chained and bound in a dungeon. Her hard-earned cultivation has been completely crippled, and she has no means of escape. Qin Shanshan, a lady she used to called her “close friend”, mocks Jun Xiaomo, revealing that Jun Xiaomo had been used by the people around her. Even her lover, Qin Lingyu was one of the masterminds scheming against her. Jun Xiaomo watches her life flash before her eyes and realizes that she had indeed blindly placed her trust in people. Her naivety had led to her current predicament.

Jun Xiaomo wanted to end it all. However, she is determined to deliver a swan song. Over the hundreds of days tormented in that very dungeon, Jun Xiaomo had painstakingly painted a complicated formation array with her own blood. With a determined look, Jun Xiaomo burns her life force to activate the array. Her sole intent? To bring with her as many schemers to the gates of hell as she could. The bright red light from thearray intensified, and the end was nigh.

…or was it? Jun Xiaomo opens her eyes and finds herself alive again; time had rewound right back to when she was sixteen years of age, albeit only at the eighth level of Qi Cultivation. Armed with the knowledge and memories of her previous lifetime, Jun Xiaomo is determined to learn from her mistakes and bring retribution to those who so deserve…

The dojo is located in Yunzhong Mountain, and there are halls and fields.

Sitting under the ginkgo tree in leisure time, looking at the dust and clouds in the distance,

Hoe the ground and listen to the sound of springs, forge swords by the fire,

Food and clothing are up to oneself and God,

I don’t know the end of the cold year;

When the robbery comes, you have to go to the lower reaches of the mountain to watch the bitterness and sweetness of the world.

It’s hard to keep injustice in your eyes, and you don’t like to show it in front of others.

The gourd of wine at the waist is deep, and the light of the sword behind the back is cold,

Not for fame, not for money,

Be a free spirit.

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