To Deprive a Deprived Person - Chapter 293: Natural Enemy (2)

There was a time when every living thing was decimated and the galaxy was forced to restart with a single thought from the evils.“Is the final boss my wife?” Xu Chang’an exclaimed as he looked at his wife who was making dinner and shook his head. “The system must have malfunctioned again.”Under the tree in his garden, Xu Chang’an wrapped his arm around his wife’s waist and said, “There is something I have to settle outside. I’ll be back soon.”“Okay. Stay safe.” After seeing the husband off, his wife raised her head to look at the leaves and said,“I think my husband is going to cheat on me soon. Should I… just restart this world?”

Ye Yang, the son of the Ye Family in Eight Desolate City, was once regarded as a genius. He could awaken his Dantian at the age of three and reach the third level of Qi Condensation at the age of five. But after a few years, He was seen as a person without talent because his cultivation was still stagnant at the age of 16. One day, He was framed and kept in a coma after he was rescued.

Ye Yang was originally an instructor in a special troop. He was 21 years old and sacrificed his life to protect an unknown broken sword which was found on Everest. When he woke up, he became Ye Yang from the Eight Desolate City, unexpectedly obtained the recognition of the broken sword and learned the mysterious cultivation method “God Slaughtering Technique”. He then embarked on a path of cultivating through slaughter.

When he was reborn, he swore, “I won’t let those who offended me off.” He wanted to reach the peak step by step, and also carried the mission to uncover the secret behind the Nine Heavens Mysterious Sword.

- Description from Novelupdates

Song Yaoyao had already died in her previous life. Her life ended on the day of her 19th birthday. Cause of death: heart failure.

(Immortal Cultivation+Meeting a Perfect Match+Shura Field+Invincible Flow+Upgrade Flow+Playing the Pig and Eating the Tiger)—What is cultivation? When I think back to the past, cultivation was, as a baby, kicking my legs over and over again—kicking on the bed, kicking on the ground, kicking every single day. Cultivation was, as I grew older, swinging my sword again and again—slashing here, cutting there. Cultivation became, as I matured, the repeated harmony of yin and yang—busy tonight, and busy again tomorrow night. … My name is Xu Ming. I have never cared about the stipends given to me by those sect masters, noble ladies, or princesses.I said to her, “Can you give me a room closer to yours? I need to report my work to you at any moment.” Even if I accomplish nothing every day, I just want to watch how she cultivates. I…