I’m Actually a Cultivation Bigshot - Chapter 916 - Second Serving of Wild Meat

Li Wei accidentally obtained a simulator that allowed him to manage a family of cultivators. He discovered that the descendants in the game would offer him strange and unique sacrifices.“Thanks to the ancestor for the gift, our family has become the most powerful family!”“Hurry up and offer a sacrifice to the ancestor. Please accept this spiritual weapon!”“Ancestor, we have already conquered the immortal world!”Then, one day, the descendants of the Li family, who had been in the game, appeared on Earth in grand flying boats. Under the astonished eyes of the entire world, these descendants paid homage to Li Wei in great numbers.“Welcome our ancestor home!”

After living as a famous Korean vlogger-slash-mukbanger, Neoma died a (shameful) death and regressed to her tragic first life— the life where she has to live as a hidden princess with a tyrannical father and a yandere twin brother.

She died at the hands of her psycho brother in her first life. But luckily, she charmed her “big brother” this time. Her father remains a sc*mbag, though.

But a blessing in disguise happened when her twin brother got “sick.” Because of that, she has to pretend as the “Crown Prince,” forcing her father to treat her well.

She thought she was finally on the road to becoming a lady of leisure.

But, despite her laziness, she still ends up completing royal duties that put her closer to the throne than her sick twin brother. The next thing she knew, they already prophesied her to be the first empress of their very patriarchal empire.

Now Neoma finds herself in the middle of the succession war she never wanted to be involved in!

[Longevity + Discipleship + No Female Lead + Lighthearted Humor with No Tragic Moments]When his master picks food, he spins the table there;When his master chants spells, he chats without a care;When his master takes rest, he sings a lively song;When his master lies late, he bangs the pot along;His master lives on long, but his life is rather short;His master lays him down on the hillside, as a sort;His master lifts a cup, but he won’t take a drink;His master shares a tale, but he won’t stop to think;His master holds a feast, but he leaves the table wide;His master calls his soul, but he’s nowhere to abide.Spring returns to the hills, with blooms so bright and fair,Yet master and disciple are parted, one in heaven, one elsewhere.