Zombie Apocalypse: Creation - Chapter 274 - : War Refugees

A Pill Emperor of his generation was set up by a traitor.

Since then, the world lost a Qingyun Zi and gained an invincible silkpants.

Once again, walking the Great Dao of Alchemy.

How can I defy the heavens . . . with the medicine in my hands!

- Description from Novelupdates

Three rejections. Three shattered dreams. That was Layla’s reality, all because she was different—a half-shifter in a world obsessed with purity. Ostracized, shunned, and finally sold off like a pawn to the most feared ruler alive—the Lycan King. He was ruthless, a king with a graveyard of brides, each one a ghostly reminder of a fate worse than death.Layla loathed him. Hated the way his gaze cold and fathomless, held no warmth for her. Hated how his touch, both thrilling and terrifying, sent an uninvited chill down her spine.---“I hate you!” I screamed, hands clenched so tight my knuckles ached.He sighed, a smirk curling at the edge of his lips, his tone mocking as he closed his book with a deliberate snap. “Stressed, are we?” he asked, strolling toward me, each step reminding me exactly who held the power here.“Lucky for you,” he drawled, rolling up his sleeves as he stopped just inches away, “I know exactly 70 ways to ease those nerves.” His fingers brushed my cheek, a touch that seemed to burn into my skin. “The first… a hug.” His voice dropped to a rough whisper as he leaned in, breath hot against my ear. “And the rest... well, that's 69? what do you say about that?”I swallowed hard, my heart thudding wildly as he tilted his head, waiting for me to react, that insufferable smirk still in place.“What’s the matter, darling?” he murmured, a taunt lingering in his gaze.---A Dangerous ObsessionCan she resist the pull, or will she dance into the flames of her own destruction?A dark dive into obsession, raw need, and the razor’s edge between desire and devastation.---LYCAN KING CASSIANI will tear her apart piece by piece, feeding the wildfire that grips her with each shuddered breath. Like air to flame, I’ll claim every inch, drawing heat from her skin until it sinks into her bones.Her pulse will race under my hands, her breaths shallow, pleading. Her eyes may scream, but her lips will still murmur my name. That first taste of fear will only feed something deeper—a need that burns through her veins, molten and fierce.And just when she’s too far gone to turn back, I’ll twist the knife, giving her the pain she’s learned to crave.She’ll be the moth to my flame, helpless against the very thing that will consume her.

The six prefectures of Zhongbo were offered to foreign enemies on a silver platter, and Shen Zechuan was taken into custody in the capital, reduced to a drowning dog—loathed and condemned by all.Xiao Chiye followed the scent of the furor and made his way over. But instead of setting others on him, he kicked Shen Zechuan with his very own leg, rendering the latter an invalid. Who would expect this invalid to turn around and bite him in a counterattack until he was all drenched in blood?That was the start of an epic feud between both men who tore at each other every time they come face-to-face with one another.“Fate wants to bind me here for life, but this is not the path I choose. The yellow dust submerged my brothers deep under. I have no wish to bow in submission to an illusory fate. The imperial edict can’t save my troops, and the imperial court can’t fill the stomachs of my mounts. I’m no longer willing to lay down my life for this purpose. I want to surmount that mountain. I am going to fight for myself.”Note: A ‘drowning dog’ is someone who is down and out, having lost favor or power.

(Immortal Cultivation+Meeting a Perfect Match+Shura Field+Invincible Flow+Upgrade Flow+Playing the Pig and Eating the Tiger)—What is cultivation? When I think back to the past, cultivation was, as a baby, kicking my legs over and over again—kicking on the bed, kicking on the ground, kicking every single day. Cultivation was, as I grew older, swinging my sword again and again—slashing here, cutting there. Cultivation became, as I matured, the repeated harmony of yin and yang—busy tonight, and busy again tomorrow night. … My name is Xu Ming. I have never cared about the stipends given to me by those sect masters, noble ladies, or princesses.I said to her, “Can you give me a room closer to yours? I need to report my work to you at any moment.” Even if I accomplish nothing every day, I just want to watch how she cultivates. I…