My Gu Can Cultivate on Their Own - Chapter 222 - Can’t Find?    

Her – a glutton without troubles or worries who crossed over and became a young fat chick with a deep vengefulness.

Thousands of years ago, the great abilities of the three teachings of Buddhism, Daoism, and Demonism decided on a place for becoming immortal. Three thousand years ago, a Taoist was close to becoming immortal. Three hundred years ago, the Daqian Dynasty was established, and chaos is expected in another three hundred years. In this era, the path to immortality opens; a celestial swordsman freezes fourteen states with one sword, a heavenly Daoist maiden seeks eternal life, a naturally born Holy Son claims to be invincible, and a Buddhist Holy Monk saves all sentient beings.Gu Wen lives as a beggar, enters a household as a servant, witnessing the disordered world, drifting aimlessly.In a world filled with divine beings, he alone is a mortal.However, a lowly origin is not a disgrace; striving through the grand path, even as a common man and mundane son, he can still be the foremost in the world.“Mortal Gu Wen, my Dao is euqaling the heavens!”

Originally, the question Tang Xian was thinking about was whether he should be a hero for a second among this group of destructive bosses, or continue to pretend to be a boss.

Later he found out that if you pretend to be fake, it becomes real.

- Description from novelbuddy

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.”