The Bookkeeper - Chapter 132: Journeys

A lifetime ago, Chu Xun was shackled and thrown in jail on false charges. For three whole years, he suffered extraodinary torment from his cellmates every day. Even though he had escaped death many times, he still died from his cellmates’ fists the day before he was to be released.

After death, Chu Xun transmigrated to a different world of cultivation, where cultivation was the one true path. Carrying the weight of his hatred, Chu Xun began to cultivate in hopes of becoming an Immortal Emperor, who could manipulate heaven and earth and travel through time. After painstaking cultivation of three thousand years, he succeeded. Then he sacrificed all his cultivation without hesitation and returned to the day before he was to be released.

This life, he wanted to find out the truth and the one behind his murder in last life. He would continue to cultivate and strengthen himself so that the tragedy would not repeat itself. He wanted to master his own destiny.

In this life, what people would Chu Xun encounter and what experience of love and hate would he have with them? What difficulties would he encounter and how would he overcome? The answer is the book.

【Urban edition of a passionate and exhilarating story!】I have set foot on the summit of the mountain, and have also fallen into the abyss!An extraordinary genius, returning to the city!

Chen Xiangbei, a F1 driver, is reborn back to 2008, originally wanting to become a low-key high school student, but accidentally leads an entire era.【There are only cowardly people, not cowardly cars. If anyone is dissatisfied, shift to second gear, rev up to 7200, and go for it!】【Remember, when cornering on mountain roads, you must use the drainage ditch.】【No matter how fast the AE86 is, it can't catch up with the Benz that Natsuki sits in, but my Corolla can.】【Schumacher is indeed strong, but he's old. The future will be my era!】“If you're so amazing, why don't you go race in F1?”“I don't have money!”

My name is Yan, and since I was a child, I’ve been able to see some strange things.For example—In elementary school, our new neighbor Aunt Tan had a pair of all-around genius twins, who were like the “precious little geniuses” with halos above their heads. They could recite the English-Chinese dictionary backwards at three, master both Chinese and Western musical instruments by five, and hack into a country’s database by seven…Growing up next to such prodigies, my life was inhumane, tragic, and constantly subjected to comparisons.To escape the comparisons with these “other people’s children,” I specifically applied to a private boarding school for middle school.On my first day, my deskmate was a small, thin girl with bangs, wearing an old uniform, and her voice was as faint as a mosquito’s.Three months later, she woke up from a nap with a “rebirth” halo above her head.She moved effortlessly among the cold academic genius, the wolf-like school bully, the fierce boss, and the gentle childhood friend, leaving me, a lonely onlooker, utterly amazed.By university, I thought I had finally escaped this abnormal world.But as soon as I stepped into my dorm room, my footsteps froze.My roommates each had halos like “ancient times to modern,” “post-apocalyptic superhuman,” “will die if not spending money,” and “ghost king revival.”I clutched my little blanket and applied to the counselor for a room change, but to no avail.Over time, I gradually got used to it. “Handover systems,” “management systems,” “book transmigration,” “infinite worlds,” “three-and-a-half-year-olds,” “interstellar live streams,” “red envelope groups”…The types of halos kept increasing, and I was able to calmly ignore all of it, focusing on my own life.Every morning, I skillfully helped my “ancient to modern” roommate, who was being blacklisted online, dodge campus paparazzi and secure seats for class.At noon, I assisted my tycoon roommate in distributing today’s haul of luxury skincare and designer bags, tasting the city’s top private chef’s custom lunchbox, and exclaiming with emotion, “Darling, can I really accept these?”In the evening, I enjoyed the flowers and plants cultivated by my superhuman roommate on the balcony, tasting a mutated cherry tomato and commenting, “I feel refreshed and purified.”Late at night, when my ghost king roommate quietly climbed back through the window, I peeked out to ask, “You’re back a bit late today, didn’t bring anything back, did you?”My name is Yan, and I am not the protagonist of this world.