My NTR Harem - Chapter 61: Game

When he woke up, Ling Feng found that he had transmigrated, not only transmigrated, but also transmigrated into the book of the heroine written by himself, and became the peak power of Yuan Ying, a cultivator that everyone envied.

But the moment he knew the identity of the original owner, Ling Feng panicked. It turned out that he was the ashes-level villain who only lived less than thirty chapters!

She was tortured and killed by the female protagonist for 49 days. After she died, she was displeased and threw her soul into the kennel to suppress her for countless years…

This bloody plot…Is it really written by me? ?

I have to rewrite it, okay? !

【Ding! The plot editor has been loaded, and the host can modify the current plot through accumulated experience points! 】

- Description from novelbuddy

Liv Hamelsvoort, who bears the label of the ‘Fake Saintess’ and is the laughingstock of high society for her unrequited love for Duke Lartman. No one could understand her, but she likewise couldn’t understand them.“I’m in the middle of enduring the love of the gods.”There was a world that ordinary humans couldn’t dare to comprehend.“Who harmed my child?”“Does my child not exist in this world?”“I don’t need a world where the child I love doesn’t exist.”The moment the enormous things she had been bearing were revealed, Liv’s life finally began to change.“I will love you in any timeline, Your Grace.”Liv was content as long as she could continue loving. But if she wanted to protect that love, she had to change; the world was whispering that to her.

Here, only those with spiritual roots can cultivate while those with mortal roots are destined to stay mortal.

Mo Wuji only has mortal roots, but will he only remain as a mortal?

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.