There's Something Wrong With This Account - Chapter 53 - : 053, (Ah Wei is Dead)

Xiang Shaoyun is the young master of an influential and powerful sect and is blessed with an extreme latent talent in martial cultivation. From talent comes confidence, and from confidence comes a declaration to give all the so-called geniuses a head start of ten years before catching up to them.

“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.

“Let me tell you something honey, Revenge is the best dish served cold.’’****To her, betrayal was the most excruciating pain in the world—the kind that pierced her soul.The people she had loved with her entire heart had not only failed her, but ruthlessly deceived her.“How could you?” she had once cried, her voice shaking as she stared at the man she had chased like a madwoman. But he had already cheated on her—expecting a child with the very woman she despised with every fiber of her being.Her so-called “family ” was no better. The relatives she thought she could trust? They only wanted the inheritance meant for her and her little brother.The people who once smiled sweetly and flattered her? They were nowhere to be found when her glamorous and envious life crumbled to nothing.“I thought you all cared about me...” she whispered bitterly, watching as one by one, they all turned their backs on her when she needed them the most.In that devastating moment, everything became painfully clear. The bubble she had lived in popped and she finally saw their true faces.But....it was too late.Everything she had was gone, slipping through her fingers like sand in the wind.Except for him.Her former fiancé, the one man she had tried to ruin with every scheme she had planned, remained by her side until the end. He stood by her, even as she took her final breath.She had accepted her tragic fate—until something phenomenal happened. She woke up once again.Back to the past.Where nothing had happened yet.

In the Jiuxiao Continent, martial arts is respected. The weak are like ants living in the ruins of dark alleys, while the strong are like dragons roaring and gathering at the top of the clouds. The laws of this place use blood as ink and bones as inkstones. A three-foot-long sword can split the sun and the moon, and a murderous thought can stir up a bloody wind. There was once a drunk madman who trampled eighteen royal cities to pieces. Wherever the sword pointed, thousands of miles of mountains and rivers were dyed red. There was also a saint who lowered his eyes to calm the nine thunder tribulations, and with a flick of his sleeves, a golden lotus suddenly appeared in the abyss.