Ti Shen - Volume 1 Chapter 36

When the MOBA character template crossed into the MMORPG [foreign land] world, Mo Cheng felt that there was something wrong with the painting style of this world.

“Thinking of the king of dragon descendants with four wings and three heads, he flew into and out of Qingming with four wings, but was torn apart by me.”

“The demon king who rolled up the eternal night and devoured the light, killed with a sharp blade, and created spirits with power, was also bombarded by me with the supreme holy light.”

The giant dragon roared, the mountains and rivers shook, and the earth mourned. The holy light shines, expels darkness, and purifies the world.

Shadows, darkness, and villains trembled in front of Mo Cheng.

“Now, face me!”

“Face, justice!”

- Description from novelbuddy

Shi Qian opened her eyes and looked at the man’s handsome face.

“You have to be responsible to me.”

The thin lips of a certain black-bellied evildoer slightly hooked, with a smile that was not a smile.

From then on, there was an extra goblin in the house of Lord Zhan, the great demon king of the imperial capital! The big devil turned into a faint king and spoiled the little goblin to the sky!

Some people: “It’s useless except for that face, it’s just a vase! I’ll be dumped by Master Zhan sooner or later!”

Not long after… the legendary god turned out to be that little goblin!

Why does the boss of the hacker army look a bit like that little goblin!

The founder of the popular game on the Internet is more like that little goblin.

The woman who defeated the number one expert in the ancient martial arts is also a bit like… a boss! Kneel down!

- Description from novelbuddy

Transmigration? A Chong Xi Marriage? Sickly husband? How worse can this get?

Mo Qian Xue now lives in a soddy, destitute, small house with broken furnitures. The grass had grown wild and unruly from lack of proper care. The rice pot in the kitchen, it’s left empty. Well, this mess seemed quite manageable, however, why is it they only have one quilt in the house?

Not only does she serve her husband food and refreshments during the day, does she need to make sure he’s well “fed” at night too?

“It’s getting late now… we should go to bed. Said the sickly husband. She simply closed the door, turned off the lights, and went straight to sleep.

“If you dare move, I’ll kick you out of the bed!” She threatened.

In the end, the man still managed to wrap himself around her no matter how she resisted. The sickly husband wasn’t as weak as he appeared to be!

Mo Qian Xue worked hard to become rich. She built workshops, opened factories, one aided by her sickly husband towards prosperity. Fortunately, she could live a peaceful life far from bickering relatives, but then, much to her dismay, she still had to deal with the villagers knocking on her door.

So they want her money? They want her position as a wife? Since when was she, Mo Xian Que easy to bully?! They want to make her lose face? Alright, let them come a little closer then… give them a…. slap!

At nineteen, Dexter was already one of the world’s most celebrated authors. His books topped charts. Critics praised his genius. Fans devoured every word. But behind the acclaim was a lonely boy—raised without parents, love, or real friends—just stories.He published his first novel at fourteen. By seventeen, he was a literary star. But the higher he rose, the hollower it felt.Then came the writer’s block. The headaches. The blackout. And the transmigration.Dexter awoke in the body of Daylan, a disgraced young man in a crumbling, medieval world laced with steampunk tech, divine law, and political unrest. Daylan had already failed two of the three sacred Trials—rites that determine one’s magical potential. He was drowning in debt, entangled in plots to overthrow a corrupt Divine Church, and branded a lost cause.With no way back, Dexter took the final Trial—the most brutal of them all—and began a path that would earn him the whispered title: Soldier, Poet, King.But as his powers grew, one question haunted him: Did he truly die? And if so, who—or what—chose to bring him back?