Ashborn Primordial - Chapter 460: Shifting Winds

Xu Cun, who was reborn in 1977, started from Xiangjiang and built a global entertainment empire step by step.

Author exchange group (Wolf Blood Group: 285060942)

- Description from novelbuddy

Summary Version 1:

The mysterious boy Ling Chen is saved by a little girl as he lay on the street dying. Years later, he strikes a deal to save this savior-turned sister and enters the virtual world. In a future Earth where advanced warfare has forced nations to settle issues virtually or else suffer the consequences, Ling Chen bursts into the scene and goes from unknown to legend. Yet all is not as it seems, for Ling Chen has a dark past, and there is a greater mystery at hand behind this virtual world.

Summary Version 2:

To save his terminally ill little sister, Ling Chen enters the newly released virtual game world and joins a small gaming studio comprising entirely of women. From now on walking upon his path towards the pinnacle. An ancient, evil item almost forgotten by history, the “Lunar Scourge” helps forge his unsurpassable legend, and causes him to unknowingly step upon a path that is destined to be punished by the heavens, the way of the shura.

Blue Star has entered the extraordinary era, everything is evolving, and monsters are rampant.

Humans awaken their star souls in evolution to fight against raging monsters.

Zhou Xuan, who was doing odd jobs in the Demon Town Tower, accidentally awakened to an unscientific sign-in system.

Sign in on the ancient desolate beast and gain the power of the wild. Sign in on the weed spirit, and the star soul evolves into the nine-leaf sword grass.

The thousand-year black turtle, the ten thousand-year sea king, the immortal true phoenix, and the sky-swallowing dragon have all become the targets of his registration.

There are countless monsters in the Demon Suppressing Tower, Zhou Xuan signed in silently, and if he was not careful, he would be invincible.

- Description from novelbuddy

“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.