Bringing Culture to a Different World - Chapter 273

Xuan Qing discovered a cultivation game on his phone that couldn't be uninstalled. When he clicked on it out of curiosity, he was astonished to find that the treasures and cultivation of characters in the game could be brought back to the real world.

PS: The male lead is the only extraordinary person on Earth, without brainless show-off and face-slapping plots.

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All she was doing was playing QQ Farm, how did she end up waking up somewhere foreign?

Lin Qing He transmigrated into a novel and became one of its cannon fodders. The novel’s background is non-viable 1960s, a time of want to eat but nothing to eat and want to wear but nothing to wear. Although there is a lack of supplies and life was monotonous, this wasn’t what she was concerned about because she got a small personal interspatial space, which was stuffed with supplies, so temporarily there were no worries about her basic needs.What she’s worried about is that if she remembers correctly, her three so-called sons will become big villains in the future, and their upright and cold dad will end up with an undeniable end.Lin Qing He looked at the three future villain sons, the eldest who was only five years old, the second child was only three years old, and the third child was only one year old, and decided to give them half of a big white bun first…

An Yin, a delicate beauty caught in a risky charade, pretends to date playboy Bo Cheng to escape her troubles—until she meets his brother, ​Bo Shaojin: the ruthless, untouchable CEO whose icy dominance rules both boardrooms and high society.Their first encounter crackles with sizzling tension. Shaojin’s piercing gaze lingers on An Yin, his brother’s “girlfriend,” as she trembles under his scrutiny. But when their paths collide again—her, half-dressed and panic-stricken in his bathroom; him, a storm of restraint and hunger—the line between duty and desire shatters.As An Yin’s fake relationship unravels, Shaojin’s ironclad control dissolves. Drunk on obsession, he corners her in a midnight confession, his hardened facade crumbling as he vows, “I won’t touch you…” But his hands whisper promises his words deny.