MTL - After Hitting 200 Million - Chapter 75 little white face

Ye Feng was transported to a cultivation world, but unfortunately had no hope of cultivating immortality and could only live as an ordinary mortal. He only wished to live a peaceful life.Yet he didn’t know—The dog he adopted, because it ate his food, became a legendary demon king.The kitchen knife he casually forged became a peerless divine weapon, causing numerous experts to fight desperately for it.The young disciple he took in became an immortal lord that led an era, due to cultivating the techniques Ye Feng taught him.Even the skeletons he looked down on the most were ominous demon kings that suppressed countless worlds.Many years later, looking at the void shattered with a punch, Ye Feng murmured to himself: It turns out the peerless kings were myself all along…

How long I’d been here, I couldn’t quite recall. From this sorry situation, I as always raised my eyes to the sky; a sky in which the great, massive sun was clad in levity. Sunlight poured gently upon all. What a blessing it would have been for the world if only the skies could remain clear. For tomorrow too, and for all days to come, I was to continue to pray for calm. To endure for those who cried, with desperation I remained in prayer.

And then, one freezing, forlorn, soulless, stagnant, drizzly day we died. Or so I thought…

“F**K! I'm dead!”That was the first word I muttered after regaining my memories from Earth.Reincarnating into a world of cultivation should’ve been a blessing. Adventure, immortality, power—what’s not to love?But then I remembered what my family did.My sister just broke off an engagement with a crippled young master—definitely a future protagonist.My mother ripped a Dao Bone from my cousin and gave it to me—guaranteed future revenge arc.And me? I’m already a third-rate villain: bullying weaklings and flaunting my Bai Clan name.Worst part? Despite the Dao Bone, I’m still trash at cultivation.My only hope?The System... which I’ve had for years.“I just never realized... It was in English!”

For twenty years since his soul had transmigrated, Bailuo thought this was an ordinary world, until one day, a black leather book appeared in his mind.“Is there magic in this world?”Facing Bailuo’s question, his uncle remained unwavering as he said, “No.”“But there are miracles.”“What are miracles?”“A sword that can release flames, a pot that can pour out gold, a beautiful girl grown from a fruit.”The uncle said, “Controlling the mist, bringing the storm, commanding the thunder.”“Magic!”Bailuo raised his hand and pointed, “This is definitely magic!”“No.”His uncle said, “These are truly miracles.”Years later, when Bailuo looked upon the nation he had built with his own hands, that magnificent and majestic sight, he agreed with what his uncle had said all those years ago, “This is a miracle…”