I Will Kill The Author - Chapter 340 The God And The Wolf [3]

As we all know, there is a force that must not be messed with in the Southern Region, thatched cottage.

Among them, the eldest disciple is the Qingyun Sword Master of the Southern Region, with a mastery of swordsmanship.

The second disciple, the Eternal Empress, leads an era.

The third disciple is a great Confucianist in the world, and the star of Wenqu came down to earth.

The fourth disciple, the reincarnation of the demon god, suppressed Jiuyou.

…

Lu Changsheng: Me? I am nothing special, just their master.

- Description from novelbuddy

When she woke up, she had already jumped through the dynasty of history. Qiao Wei fell silent, how could she be so unlucky? Sleeping can also cross through history? Even jumping two levels, becoming the mother of the two small buns.

He is a young man without a spirit root. It is believed that this denies him the chance at cultivation. However, a mysterious lady imparts a Supreme Demon Classic to him and from then on, he starts his path of cultivation.
He undergoes a total transformation to emerge as the most fearsome and powerful fiendish demon in his era, that even immortals and fiends are fearful of him, and saints are at his beck and call.
Mastering the Supreme Demon Classic is the turning point in his life. He is able to unleash his immense and divine power from within, illuminating the entire universe!

- Description from Novelupdates

What happens when, in the midst of struggling to keep up with life, you suddenly discover that you were a princess in a past life? Now, you're just a waitress with a drunken mother and a pile of bills to pay. But deep down, you know one thing: you’ll find the stupid jerk responsible for ending your royal life, no matter what it takes.Alexia POV:Then there are the spoiled, narcissistic rich jerks who think their daddy's car gives them a free pass to treat women like objects. Not today, Satan. These guys are like walking perfume ads with egos bigger than their bank accounts. I swear, they should just marry themselves—they're clearly their own type.When one of those jerks lands at my table, I can smell the entitlement from a mile away. I don't even wait for the inevitable sleazy pickup line or the “accidental” brush of their hand against mine. Nope. I pawn them off on one of the other waiters faster than you can say “unpaid rent.”