The Rebirth of an ill-Fated Consort - Chapter 111.2

Trying to drown her sorrow with alcohol after her boyfriend hooked up with her sister, Ning Qing ran into the rich and powerful Lu Shaoming in a bar. “I need a wife,” Lu said, and the two got their marriage license.

Soon, she who became a pop star won many pretty boys’ hearts. Singlehandedly, he got rid of all her potential flings and acted innocent. Ning Qing bristled, “Lu Shaoming, what happened to staying out of each other’s private life which we talked about?” Turning the light out, he came over her and whispered, “Now our priority is to make a baby.”

Luo Qing Chen is a wandering spirit that died thirty thousand years ago, roaming the Chaos Space

In order to not turn into dust, she is bound by an ice cold system to travel through time and space to complete missions.

Girls that pretend to be weak?  Slap them without explaining.

A silly cannon fodder?  Helping them amass treasures.

Meeting a real male god?  All of them will pamper.

System: Dear masters, what do I do if my host even dares bully the heavens?  Waiting for an answer, it’s urgent!

A certain male god: Change systems.

System: ヽ〔?Д?〕丿

Kim Mu-ryeong is the youngest member of a famous exorcist family. He grew up receiving love from his entire family and was considered a genius. The kind that appears once every hundred years. “Mu-ryeong, let me make a request.” After enrolling in high school, Mu-ryeong began to do simple exorcism work. The apartment’s elevator is acting weird. Someone is having constant nightmares. Even things like getting rid of a stalker or acting as a boyfriend. It was more of a problem-solver job than exorcism, But Mu-ryeong, being someone who helped anybody, There was nothing he couldn’t accept. But even for Mu-ryeong, there was one person he avoided… “Ki Hwan-young?” Tall and handsome with a mysterious, intimidating aura, And known for being impolite and having no friends. One day, Ki Hwan-young came to see Mu-ryeong. “My shoulders feel heavy lately.”

In the Kunlun Snow Palace, a sage once said, those who pass away wander, while the living cannot let go.Once the soul departs, it will wither like the autumn grass.Those who are reborn from the dead, existing apart from the mortal realm, shall be shunned by all celestial sects and smitten as undead demons.On this day, a youth awakens from within a coffin, his blood dry and his bones chilled, to find himself a century old upon opening his eyes.A single tear from a sage awaited, a constant companion, may unravel the dreams of the past.Seeking not immortality but a mundane death, not to lament with the ages over lost love and resentment, but only wishing to grow old with tenderness in this lifetime, beneath the white clouds that hold no envy for the heavenly realms.