Hyperion Evergrowing - Chapter 183: War-Torn

A global game, starting with inheriting the legacy of super god-level civilization, a universe in the palm of your hand!

If you feel the seedlings of this book, there are thousands of people who have ordered this old book (the era of global gods) and send it over by clicking on the author’s name.

- Description from novelbuddy

Traveling through time, he became Zhang Gui, a foreign relative of the Tianqi Dynasty. Because he didn’t want to be tortured to death by Li Zicheng in the future, he had to embark on the road of harming the powerful and bureaucratic officials of the Ming Dynasty.

The Yanguan scolded him for coercing the king and making disorderly manners.

The prince scolded him for being greedy.

The official hates him for being mean and cruel.

But helplessly, most of the Nine Frontiers are his lackeys, and even Jiu Qiansui is his godson, and the emperor can’t do anything about him.

Therefore, the Ming Dynasty was at the mercy of him.

- Description from novelbuddy

30 year old Lu Ziwen was born in poverty and after struggling for a lifetime, he is finally able to perform in the Golden Hall symbolizing the highest honor. However, an hour before taking the stage, he was killed by his lover.

With eyes opened once more, he was unexpectedly born again in the body of the fallen star Qi Mu!

Who controls the world with notes?

Who is the king of the classics?

Qi Mu: I’ve conquered you; I am the king of classical music!

Min Chen: … As long as you are happy.

This is a story of a reborn violinist, vengeance, struggling for the top, and dominating the world of classical music!

- Description from Novelupdates

For twenty years since his soul had transmigrated, Bailuo thought this was an ordinary world, until one day, a black leather book appeared in his mind.“Is there magic in this world?”Facing Bailuo’s question, his uncle remained unwavering as he said, “No.”“But there are miracles.”“What are miracles?”“A sword that can release flames, a pot that can pour out gold, a beautiful girl grown from a fruit.”The uncle said, “Controlling the mist, bringing the storm, commanding the thunder.”“Magic!”Bailuo raised his hand and pointed, “This is definitely magic!”“No.”His uncle said, “These are truly miracles.”Years later, when Bailuo looked upon the nation he had built with his own hands, that magnificent and majestic sight, he agreed with what his uncle had said all those years ago, “This is a miracle…”