THE GENERAL'S DISGRACED HEIR - Chapter 12 - : TRASH, HUH?

In the world of demons and demons, a hundred ghosts travel at night.Qin Feng, who accidentally crossed over, came to this troubled world with no lofty ambitions.He only wanted to protect himself and enjoy the rest of his life safely.But the sky does not fulfill people’s wishes, excellent men are so outstanding everywhere.The ancestor made a marriage contract, and the talented young lady of the Liu family became a wife.

It was the twenty-third year of Tianxi*. Rumours traversed the streets that the all-knowing Imperial Advisor suffered a great calamity and could not help but enter seclusion to focus on cultivation. However, the commoners secretly clapped their hands and rejoiced. In the winter of the same year, a young monk appeared in the Hui Zhou Fu’s Ningyang District.

The monk’s monastic title was Xuan Min, his memories all missing, yet was versed in the arts of Feng Shui Kan Yu**. On the very first day arriving in Ningyang, he did not hesitate to take care of a dangerous manor, picking up Xue Xian, who was hidden there, along the way.

Since then, Xue Xian – who had been all-powerful in the first half of his life – gained a new life pursuit: to get this baldy*** who had only a good outer appearance to take his last breath and “smile from his grave”.

Xue Xian: If you are unhappy, then I will be happy. If you die, I’ll laugh my ass off.

Xuan Min: …

- Description from Novelupdates

In a realm where even the faintest shadows whisper untold tales, I came to realize that the forgotten often hold the most powerful narratives.As an avid admirer of the world's most beloved series, I never imagined that one night's rest would pull me into its very fabric.“Why on earth am I stuck in this world? And why, of all people, am I him?”I had become Arthur Nightingale—Class A’s most unremarkable student. A magic swordsman barely worthy of mention, ranked 8th among the first-years. A mere footnote in the grand story.Still, with this body’s abilities and my own insider knowledge, I figured I could carve out a peaceful life. Or so I believed.“This was the only way,” the voice repeated, resolute. “The only way to stop her.”Little did I know how truly unique Arthur Nightingale was—or the path this journey would force me to take...

A replica of Marquis Kieran Vale, the son of the Marchioness of Vale, who she deemed a failure. That was all she was. No, she was now referred to as “he.” At least until she met Claude Del Ihar.