Level 4 Human in a Ruined World - Chapter 170

Everyone said that Yi Qing was the number one Sword Cultivator in the world, with a swordsmanship and cultivation that no one could surpass. Whether it was when he was cultivating in the Lower Realm, or when he was in the Ten Heavens of the Upper Realm, he has always been undefeated.

Yi Qing laughed and said: “That is because you do not know of my Master. If we speak of cultivation, I am not as good as she by a long mile. Thinking about it, at the start, out of the ten Heavenly Emperors of the Upper Realm, my Master beat up nine, and the one left was myself.”

“Master? You actually have a Master! Who? How come we never heard of it?”

“My Master is…. Eh? Master? Master! And my Master? Has anyone seen my Master?”

A person next to them quietly raised her paw. “I am here!”

- Description from Novelupdates

Space, System, Treasure, Spirit Tools … other protagonists all have golden fingers, Shi Qing: this young grandpa [Xiao Ye] is a golden finger.

It’s just that …he is now a golden finger and even more importantly bound to a host?

And so this host, has a backstory resulting a bloody darkened heart and soul, truly a psychopath!

A psychopath I can endure, but I also have to work together with the psychopath through different worlds, can I endure?

Ancient times, modern times, apocalypse, futuristic….

Traveling throughout the worlds, Shi Qing thinks the host isn’t as bad as he imagined? Strange.

- Description from Novelupdates

I once believed I was the heroine of a modern fairytale, blessed with beauty, wealth, intelligence, and a powerful legacy. Men adored me, women envied me, and I was engaged to the most desirable man, Cole Fay. My life seemed perfect, a dream where I held the starring role. But on my eighteenth birthday, that illusion crumbled. The truth hit me hard: I wasn’t the protagonist, nor even the villain or a side character. I was just cannon fodder, a disposable part of someone else’s story. But when fate recognized the cruel joke of my life, I was granted a second chance. This time, I’ll write my own story, living for myself. And this time . . . I will never love you again.