The Good for Nothing Seventh Young Lady - Chapter 14

One day, countless natural wormholes tore open across the Blue Star Continent, revealing gateways to countless worlds. With this discovery, humanity was thrust into an era of interdimensional conquest, waging war across realms to seize power and resources.Su Xiuyu, a seemingly ordinary high school student from Yangcheng No. 1 Middle School, lived a mundane life—until his third year, when everything changed. Awakening the mysterious **Reincarnation System**, he regained memories of a past life and the truth of his existence. He wasn’t just another student—he was a traveler, a reincarnator destined to walk the path between worlds.His journey began in the brutal Warring States Period of the Naruto world, where blood and war shaped legends. But that was only the beginning. With each reincarnation, he would step into new universes, face gods and monsters, and carve his name across the multiverse.From the shadows of history to the frontlines of cosmic battlefields, Su Xiuyu would rise, one world at a time.

The young president, Yu Shu, is vigorous and unsmiling. The outside world commented that she is a high-altitude flower that can be seen from afar but not to be played. Prejudice.
At first, she hated Zhao Qingying, just because this woman delayed her brother’s study, and later, it was because… she was too profligate.
Xiaolang’s hooves should be cured!
Later, really fragrant——
One day, my younger brother saw his idol sitting in his living room, and said pleasantly, “Brother Ying, why are you here?!”
Yu Shu said meaningfully: “Well, it’s indeed a big wedding.”

Zhao Qingying’s flourishing beauty is the center of the topic, the darling of the media and the favorite of the paparazzi, and there will never be a shortage of gossip targets around her. One day, she was interviewed.
Host: “The boss of the hotel is dating you, is it true?”
Zhao Qingying: “My brother.”
Host: “The financial tycoon is rumored to be your benefactor, is the news reliable?”
Zhao Qingying: “My father.”
The host asked weakly: “Then Yu Shu, who has been in frequent contact with you recently, who are you?”
Zhao Qingying looked at the camera, her eyebrows and eyes curved: “My wife.”

The cold president who is obsessed with making money from games X the big star who only cares about teasing girls

[Don’t ask, it’s sweet to ask! 】
Content tags: powerful rich family entertainment circle sweet text
Search keywords: Protagonist: Yu Shu (shu), Zhao Qingying ┃ Supporting role: ┃ Others:
One sentence introduction: can’t laugh.jpg

- Description from novelbuddy

While they mine for gold, I dig graves.While they use healing ointment, I munch on graveyard grass.While they take Mana Potions, I light incense and candles.While they meditate to recover, I rest in a coffin,While they attack with magic, I retaliate by tossing paper money....Let's see how a skeleton turns the tables in an online game, stirring up chaos to become the ultimate boss!

war, blood, and betrayal carved him into something else. A legend. A killer. A mercenary whose name struck fear into both criminals and so-called heroes alike.But now, the world had changed. Lines blurred between right and wrong, between justice and vengeance. Should he step into the light, wear the mask of a hero, and fight for a cause greater than himself? Or should he embrace the darkness that had always been his home, a place where morality was just another illusion?“Don’t box me in with your shallow ideas of good and evil,” he muttered, his voice calm but edged with danger. “I do what I want, when I want.”The air was thick with tension as he moved like a shadow through the dimly lit room. The writer had no time to react—one moment, he was scribbling nonsense about legends and myths; the next, a cold barrel pressed against the back of his head.The figure smirked beneath his mask, eyes gleaming with something between amusement and menace.“You wanna write fiction?” he whispered. “Then let me show you how real legends are made.”A single gunshot shattered the silence.As the writer’s body slumped over the desk, the man holstered his weapon, stepping into the faint glow of a flickering neon light.“It’s that simple,” he said, his voice unwavering. “I’m Deathstroke.”