My Wife is My Life! - Chapter 289

What is a story without a reader?Nothing.Stories are for the readers to define.What about a story with four readers?It is a lot for the story, but for the author the story is far from being satisfactory.So when the author closes the story beloved to only four readers.How do they deal with it?How do they deal with the end?What happens when the author swallows the key to the story’s life.Especially when it simply became beyond human terms.

Lu Ze transmigrated to the interstellar era two thousand years later.
The previous owner of this body had lovey-dovey parents and a cute little sister. Although his cultivation talent was ordinary, his life was fulfilling. It could be said to be a dream start. Lu Ze was very happy.
However, as soon as he slept, he came to a strange dimension.
He almost got taken out trying to fight an one meter tall huge white rabbit. After making the arduous kill, Lu Ze found that things didn’t seem to be so simple.
After killing prey in this dimension, he could get little orbs that could be used for cultivation.
This was going to make him an eternal jungler.
But he seemed to be able to hope for domination of the cosmos and invincibility?

Thirty Years East, Thirty Years West. Don’t you bully the young and poor!Split open the sky!Go against Heaven!Sick and tired of that kind of cultivation quote and troupe? The never-ending long grind that seemed to have one world after another once you supposedly reached the false apexes?Well, it’s time to broaden your horizons! You shall now be blessed with the perspective of someone who’s at the top of the top: Ye Ming.Someone who had foolishly decided to experience mortal life before realizing how crap it was. It was time to return to his real life.“I wasn’t born with a diamond spoon, but born with the endgame life.” Ye Ming laughed sinisterly. He was the sole Young Master of a family who dominated everything already.Trash cultivation? Trash spiritual roots? Trash background?Sorry, but that ain’t Ye Ming!However, he does have one great and relatable trait: procrastination.

In a fantasy world where martial artists can split mountains and creeks with a wave of their hand and break rivers with a kick, there exists a little restaurant like this.

The restaurant isn’t large, but it is a place where countless apex existences will rush into.

There, you can taste egg-fried rice made from phoenix eggs and dragon blood rice.

There, you can drink strong wine brewed from vermillion fruit and water from the fountain of life.

There, you can taste the barbecued meat of a ninth grade supreme beast sprinkled with black pepper.

What? You want to abduct the chef? That’s not going to happen, because there’s a divine beast of unfathomable level, the Hellhound, lying at the entrance.

Oh, that chef also has a robotic assistant that killed a ninth grade supreme being with a single hand and a group of crazy women whose stomachs were conquered.

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