Game Making: Start By Healing the Player - Chapter 29

Grandpa Yu often repeated beside the ear of Yu Zhen, saying that he(YZ) has a soul in his body. If he doesn’t properly train in asceticism, and raise then send away the powerful soul, in this lifetime he would have to live as a bachelor. In his next lifetime he would be reborn as a lifestock animal.

Yu Zhen played on his mobile and nodded. On the surface he replied, “Uh-huh”. In his heart he laughed, “hahaha”. Keeping his grandfather in the dark was amusing so the lie was repeated for over ten years without Yu Zhen getting tired of it.

After some years, Grandpa Yu passed away and a cold-faced handsome guy came to his door in a luxury car – with a household register in his hands.

…..

Yu Zhen: The soul in my body reincarnated into someone else’s body to demand repayment, what should I do!

- Description from Novelupdates

If Xiang Yu emerged victorious in the Chu-Han contention war, how would history unfold?Through entrepreneurship, social club management, and the exploits of a lowly household servant, this story explores how one can excel in the worlds of commerce, politics, war, and love. This servant is no ordinary person, and even a lowly carp can leap through the Dragon’s Gate.The tale of “Finest Servant” takes place in an alternate timeline following Xiang Yu’s triumph. After years of his reign, China established a dynasty known as the Grand Dynasty of Da Hua…A modern-day sales manager is transported to the era of the Grand Dynasty of Da Hua due to an unexpected incident, becoming a prestigious servant in the Xiao family mansion. Separated from his loved ones by time and space, Lin Wanrong decides to forget his sorrows and embark on a glorious journey through a different era.Accustomed to playing the fool and hiding his true abilities, Lin Wanrong uses his unscrupulous and cunning personality, along with his modern scientific knowledge, to shine in ancient society.At the height of power and wealth, surrounded by beauty, how will this humble household servant navigate the treacherous waters of politics, business, and love?

After a disaster, a despised son-in-law quietly undergoes a shocking transformation. With both medical and martial arts skills, a battle for redemption is on the brink of erupting...

“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.