Surrounded By My Yandere Ex-Girlfriend On The Romance Reality Show! - Chapter 465 - A Hidden Paradise

A poor boy whose parents died accidentally found a mysterious space and set foot on the avenue of cultivating immortals. From then on, he planted spiritual herbs, refined elixir, opened shops, trained troops, and established a fairyland…

This article is about cultivating immortals and farming, not for mortals, not for stallions.

In a world of swords and magic, where Dragon Knights and Grand Archmages wield powers capable of destroying the heavens and shaking the seas, the legends of their prowess echo throughout the ages.In this world, Sylvus, having crossed over from another realm, opens the Eastern Elixir Shop with a unique system that grants him mastery over ancient elixirs.Within this humble shop, elixirs from the eternal archives of Xianxia are available—each more powerful and mysterious than the last.A Nine-Star Saint Archmage toils away in the shop, working to repay his debt.A Nine-Star Platinum Knight pleads with the shopkeeper, desperately hoping to buy just one elixir.Even God Mages and Divine Knights engage in fierce battles just to secure the coveted Nine-Transformation Golden Elixir before others.

A new era of power has dawned upon the world. Mortals now wield the elements themselves through their awakened Genetic Spirits, shaping nations and destinies.But not everyone is so fortunate. Sin Clemoth Falmerdic was born with nothing—no affinity, no power, and no future. After witnessing the destruction of his city and the death of all those he held dear, he vows revenge on the veiled enemies who unknowingly left him as the sole survivor.But when Sin attains the Infinite Spirit Energy System, his journey shifts.His thirst for vengeance fuels an insatiable desire for power which eventually consumes him, driving him to rise above all who stand in his way.“There’s no peak for me. Every level brings me closer to godhood.”

I am Racist.…I mean, my name is Racis T.I was a stand-up comedian. The flop kind. The type who only got laughs when someone else was roasting him.One night, I was doing a gig at a shady, run-down bar—the kind where tattooed bikers drink motor oil for breakfast. I went in with my usual dark humor, but my jokes were getting the same reaction as my dating profile: complete silence.That didn’t sit right with my inner artist, who was already starving to death. So I did what any committed comedian would—I went darker.Turns out, one of my jokes (or all of them?) triggered a guy so hard that he pulled a trigger. Headshot. Instant death.But hey, look at this: A guy got triggered, so he pulled the trigger. That’s wordplay. But who cares? I’m dead anyway.All I wanted was a successful show, people laughing, and maybe a few girls swooning over my wit. I never cared about money. The millions I’d have made would have gone to charity—specifically, 0.001% of it. See? I’m generous like that.Anyway, death is death. My story should’ve ended there.But… if there is an afterlife, I had a simple wish: become a successful comedian, find a loving wife, and have just enough money to afford three meals a day… and maybe a humble little private yacht. Or a jet. But that’s it. Because, like I said, I don’t care about money.Unfortunately, wishes don’t work that way.Because, well—there was an afterlife.And it was absolutely not what I wished for.