Su Xing Chuan Novels

I love my wife. After turning over a new leaf, I fell in love with him at first sight. He’s gentle, caring, polite. When I was pushed down the stairs, when I crawled out of an explosion, when I got run over by a car in front of our garage, he was always there in the hospital, watching over my oxygen tube. So, whether in life or death, I will always be with him.Managing a marriage is a learning process. I will not leave my wife. If he wants to go back to his parents’ home, I’ll cling to the car chassis and go with him. If he wants to be alone, I’ll turn invisible and coil up in the sewer.I’ll hide my tent**les, curb my habit of attacking people, tuck away my five extra eyes, and be a regular car mechanic, a good husband, and build a perfect marriage, giving him enough sense of security.This is the only thing I want to do in my peaceful remaining life. I think he knows he’s my wife since he has never denied it.

The protagonist transmigrates into a dark xianxia novel, becoming the doomed aloof master who, in the future, will be killed by his disciple—the male lead—as part of his "slay-the-mentor-to-ascend" arc. He dies horribly. Very, very horribly. To make matters worse, he’s bound to a system that insists he must play the role of the aloof master, either "redeeming" the disciple and saving the world or eliminating him to escape fate. The blackened male lead will arrive at the sect in 20 years. The protagonist ignores this entirely. Under the system’s watchful eye, he stares at his disciple roster for the time it takes an incense stick to burn… and then decides to hold a group meeting. Next, he opens the sect’s library. Then he orders all disciples to divide the labor of reading every text in the library within five years, submitting weekly progress reports and monthly literature reviews. Each disciple receives a stipend based on performance evaluations; failure to meet deadlines results in delayed graduation. With 20 years until the male lead’s arrival, the protagonist spends the time speculating on nearby real estate, building houses, and promoting the virtues of homeownership—ensuring the male lead arrives burdened by a mortgage. Then forces him to work for his master to pay it off. Three years in: the protagonist finishes reading the entire sect library. Five years in: he establishes the sect’s academic journal. Ten years in: he encourages other sects across the cultivation world to launch their own journals. Fifteen years in: he creates the first-ever cultivation journal, *Science*. Eighteen years in: academic conferences and journals proliferate. The protagonist seizes the moment to introduce a patent office. After the male lead joins, he engineers hyperinflation and launches a futures market. ... Two centuries later, the cultivation world trembles as they realize: any act of cultivation involving registered patents requires paying intellectual property taxes. Even demonic cultivators face cross-border prosecution. Whether madmen or geniuses, everyone is now drowning in academia, taxes, admissions, and stocks. No one has time to follow the original male lead’s evil schemes. Romance can’t compare to being a doctoral advisor. The protagonist will dominate—no, *save*—the cultivation world with knowledge. Now, the only thing he’s pondering is which new method to use to delay the male lead’s graduation by another 20 years—just as the boy glimpses freedom and considers rebellion. After all, the male lead is *really* good at grinding.

In Hua Nation, there's a wildly controversial male band of five members: A, B, C, D, and E. Aside from E, the protagonist of this story who lacks any presence, the others are all standard JJ-novel male leads.A is a reincarnator, switched at birth, who was used as a substitute by a CEO in his past life—a dog-blooded BL trope. His relationships are an intricate web of drama, constantly entangled in chaotic love triangles and "chasing wives to the crematorium" scenarios. B is a top scorer in the national college entrance exams, actually a transmigrated ancient powerhouse. Skilled in traditional arts like painting, his works are hailed as national treasures—a wish-fulfillment BL trope. C is a superpowered individual who fast-travels through dream worlds every night to experience the movies he’ll act in—a fantasy BL trope, celebrated as a method-acting genius. D is an infinite survival game player who disappears for ten minutes during events to clear dungeons, earning a reputation for "poor kidney function" and supernatural encounters. Known in the industry for his extreme sports prowess—another fantasy BL trope. Only our protagonist E is the sole member without superpowers or melodramatic plotlines in this flamboyant group, yet he’s often dragged into the chaotic lives of A, B, C, and D. For example: - When a group of CEOs tries to "chase wives to the crematorium," E might casually walk by playing on his phone and say, "Please line up for your turn today." - While B calculates four-digit multiplications mentally, E might tap on his calculator and remark, "Oh, so that’s the answer." - When C accidentally reveals his dream-traveling and nervously glances at him, E might tilt his head, neither confirming nor denying he noticed. And when C complains about a challenging scene, E—still on his phone—might say, "But if it’s you, C, I’m sure you’ll find a way." - Upon entering a bathroom and encountering D, who materializes covered in blood and stares in shock, E might calmly ask, "There’s 20 minutes till the performance. Can you wash your face in time?" E believes he leads a peaceful life. The other four members think he’s terrifyingly omniscient. On the band’s two-year anniversary, they’re interviewed. Reporter: "Among the five of you—A, the epicenter of scandal; B, the prodigy whose paintings are national treasures (or else he’d inherit his family’s fortune); C, the once-in-a-century method-acting genius; D, the enigmatic figure shrouded in supernatural rumors; and E, who’s often mocked for being glued to his phone, treating idol life like a 9-to-5 job, and being as plain as a background character—who do you think is the most deeply concealed?" A: "E." B: "E." C: "E." D: "E." Reporter: "...E, what do you think?" E, who’d been ignored, looks up from his phone. "Huh? My turn? Well... I think everyone’s just ordinary people who get along nicely." A, B, C, D (watching E’s gentle smile for the N+1th time): "E is terrifying!!!" Notes: 1. No real-life counterparts exist for characters in this story (main leads, side characters, or villains). All are fictional—readers, do not project. 2. The author is not a fangirl/fanboy nor a celebrity follower. Those who stir drama or force fan labels onto others: check yourselves. Respect others as you respect yourselves. —————— Today, too, background-character E remains unflappable in the JJ Universe. When his assistant friend—who spent years as a CEO’s substitute lover—leaves after the white moonlight returns and mentions stomach discomfort, E deadpans: "You might be pregnant. Get checked. If you need money for the ‘runaway with baby’ trope, let me know." Friend: "Why do you casually assume men can get pregnant?? Have you read the script??" When a disliked rich second-generation heir bullies a minor celebrity, E walks by: "Don’t go too far, or you’ll push them to..." Heir: "Suicide?" E: "Reincarnation." Heir & Celebrity: "??? Have you read the script??" On a variety show with B, the ancient-transmigrated scholar, E asks him to authenticate a painting. B: "Why ask me?" (The fake “heir to a scholarly family” hasn’t even been exposed yet.) E: "Hmm. Seems more reliable to ask the original artist than ‘experts.’" B: "??? You—?" E: "Hm?" A: An Yelin | B: Bo Jiang C: Chi Jixia | D: Ding Bohan | E: Yi Wan

#Endlessly provoking my demon ex-boyfriend, too lazy to survive# #Wait, why is he putting down the knife to kiss me?# Transmigrator Lucian happily faked his death after completing his mission—posing as the human Saint and deceiving the feelings of this world’s protagonist (and others)—before moving on to the next world. Before his death, he revealed his half-succubus bloodline, exposing his dark history. Overnight, his image shifted from a pure, flawless white lotus to a scheming, venomous black moonlight, thoroughly maximizing everyone’s hatred. Flirting and then running away—so thrilling. After all, he wasn’t coming back ^+^ ...Until one day, he woke up disconnected from his system, back in the very world he’d left. Around his ankle was a chain sealing his magic, his succubus bloodline half-awakened, marked by demonic sigils, white hair, and crimson eyes. Worse, he was trapped in a windowless tower inside a castle. And the castle’s master? The very protagonist who was determined to take revenge, destroy him, and kill him. —For some reason, after his fake death, his body hadn’t decayed. Instead, it had been preserved alive but unconscious by that man in the castle. Lucian: ...Is there still hope for me? Just as he breaks the magic seal to escape, the protagonist—alerted to his movements—grabs him by his long hair and seizes him by the throat. “Little liar, when did you come back?” the protagonist asks. His eyes burn with murderous intent—until he sees Luxian, who had been shamelessly unrepentant mere moments ago, suddenly curling up in pain before him. Protagonist: ? “My succubus bloodline... is awakening again,” Lucian gasps weakly. “I think... I’m growing horns and a tail.” Protagonist: ... “You brought this on yourself by breaking the seal,” the protagonist sneers. Just as Lucian resigns himself to being the most humiliatingly killed transmigrator in history— “Let me touch your tail,” the protagonist says hoarsely, “and I’ll let you go this time.” Lucian: ? Something’s wrong with you. “Can... it be the horns instead?” * After nearly being strangled to death by his blackened protagonist for the third time, Lucian finally goes all out. Since death is inevitable anyway, he decides to embrace his role as a spoiled, dramatic brat. When the protagonist calls him over to massage his legs, Lucian sprawls on the sofa and complains his hands hurt. When the protagonist orders him to play the piano, Lucian curls up in the pool and claims a headache. When the protagonist demands he crack walnuts, Lucian burrows into a blanket and whines his stomach aches. Fed up, the protagonist grabs his arm and drags him into the bedroom. “You twisted my ankle,” the white-haired succubus teases, eyes crinkling with mischief. “It really hurts.” Red-rimmed eyes, a soft voice laced with tiny hooks. Yet to his utter shock, instead of killing him, the protagonist silently kneels and massages his swollen ankle. “Still hurt?” he murmurs. Lucian: ? * When Lucian faked his death, the protagonist hated him. Day after day, as he preserved Lucian’s lifeless body with his own heart’s blood, the protagonist swore—if that traitor ever woke up, he’d make him bleed, make him weep. But when Lucian finally opens his eyes,uninhibited and smiling like a blooming flower, dozing against the throne like a lazy cat, the protagonist’s outstretched fingers freeze. Only one thought remains: —He must never let him find out. He loves him. ◆Cold, insane demon lord (tsundere jealousy bucket man-child) × beauty-wields-as-a-weapon black lotus

Zhou Xun once thought his life would only ever be this way. His elder brother was the prince's white moonlight, the tyrant's cinnabar mole. And he? A flawed imitation living in his brother's shadow; a cheap, cast-off gift given to the prince as a replacement, his chance at the imperial exams ruined; a cannon fodder character in a dog-blooded harem novel, whose tragic death served only to facilitate others' love. Enough was enough. At a palace banquet, Zhou Xun, resolved to take revenge, attempted to assassinate the tyrant—hoping to bring about the extermination of his entire clan—and was thrown into the imperial prison. In his cell, he closed his eyes and waited for death. But what he didn't expect was... The awakened tyrant not only had his soul replaced by a transmigrator from a stallion novel but also, through a series of coincidental exchanges, mistakenly identified Zhou Xun as... A "fellow transmigrator"??? Emperor: "Why did you try to kill me?" Zhou Xun: "If not explosion in silence, then death in silence." Emperor: (utterly confused) "Do you know the consequences of assassinating an emperor?" Zhou Xun: "At worst, the extermination of my clan. I never shy from assuming the worst of others." Emperor: "Who taught you these words?" Zhou Xun: "Fate. Unfair fate." Emperor: "You... care to share your thought process?" Zhou Xun: "The sorrows and joys of humanity are disconnected." Reflecting on his silenced, unfairly snuffed-out life, Zhou Xun thought: this world had shown him nothing but malice, and no one understood his sorrows or joys. Moved by his own words, he concluded his speech and closed his eyes, awaiting death... He waited, and waited, and waited... Only to hear the emperor whisper? "Odd changes, even remains unchanged...?" Zhou Xun: ??? "Stop pretending. We're fellow transmigrators... right?" Zhou Xun: ??? #WhatToDoWhenAMistakenTransmigratorThinksYoureAFellowHelpNeededASAP# * Emperor Rong Xuan of the Jing Dynasty was infamous for his cruelty, having countless executed for displeasing him. Yet from that day onward... "Your Majesty, this is the finest Xinjiang ice moss, delivered eight hundred li post-haste—" "Send it to the Master!" "Your Majesty, Jiangnan has sent three taels of Zhou Cai's favorite pre-Qingming tea..." "Send it to the Master!" "Your Majesty, this is the heirloom jade pendant your mother left for her daughter-in-law..." "Must I repeat myself? Send it, send it, send it—all the finest treasures to the Master!" "What about the peerless dancer?" "Of course, send her too—Bah! Wait! Bring her back! That one stays!" "Your Majesty, this is Scholar Xun's 'ex,' the Fifth Prince, and your white moonlight, Zhou Cai..." "Exile them ALL!!!" The court: A bewitching consort! It must be a bewitching consort! Yet the so-called "bewitching consort" spent his days agonizing over how to teach the transmigrated emperor to convincingly mimic a tyrant without blowing his cover. "What does a tyrant do?" "Extravagant construction projects." Rumors spread: the tyrant leveled roads, built lavish carriages for the consort's outings—all for a single smile. Then... The capital's order flourished, merchants traveled freely, and the people prospered. "What else does a tyrant do?" "Crushing taxes and levies." Rumors spread: the tyrant slaughtered corrupt officials, drenching the land in blood—all to please the consort. Then... The bureaucracy was cleansed, peace reigned, and the people cheered. "What else?" "Wasteful projects." Rumors spread: the tyrant dredged canals, raised a navy—all to ship lychees for the consort. Then... The Grand Canal was completed, the Jing navy became unmatched, envoys from all nations bowed, and the empire united in loyalty. After years of coaching the emperor on tyrant behavior—while keeping his transmigrator identity secret—Zhou Xun decided to resign and return home. With his vengeance fulfilled and his dream of topping the imperial exams achieved, he had no reason to stay by the emperor's side. "Zhou Xun." "Hmm?" He turned. "What should a tyrant do now?" "Do... what?" "Hold you." The man embraced him from behind. "Never let you go." * Later, Zhou Xun reflected: this world hadn't been so kind to him, but neither had it been entirely cruel. It had often brought him to the brink of death, yet always left him a thread of survival—threads that had carried him through his first eighteen years, until they led him to this meeting. But one thing he never learned: A soul had once traveled across time and space, fighting tooth and nail to pry open paths of survival for his younger self, yet never told him what it had done. That soul wanted to see him smile—wanted him to know— This world, and he, loved him dearly. —Sunny, silly transmigrator who crosses countless timelines to save his past lover × cool, gentle, devoted genius—

Ruthless, Stingy Rich Guy Top × Artsy Green Tea Gold Digger Bottom – A North American PDF Lit Novel A merciless sugar daddy vs. a calculated, airheaded canary. A short, shameless story about two schemers who end up scamming each other straight into a pit of pure love. The bottom is a broke, artsy green tea guy studying abroad. He puts on a frail, melancholic act to seduce a famous rich girl. The wind is strong—can you see my soul? In the negative space of existentialism, if there’s an extra movie ticket, would you run away with me?After sending this handwritten letter, the green tea boy gets a reply the next day: *Meet at the cinema at 10:30 PM.* Dressed to impress, he arrives—only to find the rich girl’s intimidating older brother waiting, arms crossed, smirking. What’s wrong? I’m the one who got your letter. Not happy? The movie is a nerve-wracking ordeal, his arm pinned to the seat the entire time. As tears well up, the man pats his cheek mockingly. *“Trying to scam my sister? Your tricks are amateur.”* Cold, vindictive. * The top is a cutthroat rich guy. Fresh off a family feud that landed his enemies in jail, he flies up north to check on his sister. And there she is—being trailed by some big-city green tea scammer. Writing poetry on fallen leaves, dressed in artsy bohemian chic, rocking long hair, earrings, and a collarbone chain. The top toys with him for a while, deciding he’s too useless for his sister—but kind of fun to keep around. *No guy with earrings is straight.* On a trip, he corners the gold digger and forces him to admit it. *Gold diggers are gold diggers. Quit playing hard to get.* Turns out, the green tea boy’s got talent—he’d just been targeting the wrong prey. In bed, he’s a whimpering mess, lips parting eagerly for kisses, melting under every touch. So docile. Cute. Post-sex, the bottom’s still upset. He can’t be a straight boy chasing rich girls anymore. *How can a ‘dirty’ man win a heiress’s love?* Two days into sulking, the top gifts him a glacier-white Birkin. The top’s never dated but figures this is how sugar baby arrangements work—same for men or women. He skimmed some tips from his buddies, then drags the bottom on a shopping spree—straight to Miu Miu. But the bottom *flushes red with rage.* Not because of the Birkin—but because he thinks the top lowballed him with a *secondhand, 70%-off knockoff.* He declares luxury goods *insult his artistic soul*—if anything, buy him *art (resale value edition).* He’s about to return the bag and lecture the top—until he checks its resale value. *Huh. More stable than art.* Suddenly, he’s hugging it tight. The top laughs. *Someone this cheap is kind of hilarious.* Keeping a ditzy scammer around is oddly entertaining. He pats the couch, and the bottom crawls over, licking his fingers submissively. Money makes him *so* obedient—no sass, just compliance. But after a while, he glances up: *You’ll pay my tuition, right?* *Puppy eyes. Fragile hope.* At first, the top just wanted a pet to amuse himself. Then, he wanted to lock this little green tea at home—all to himself. Later? Payback. *Every cent scammed will be repaid with a lifetime.* * Decades later, they live out a whirlwind romance. A local magazine documents their century-long entanglement. On their porch, they’re stunned to find their *dumpster-fire love* rebranded by the younger generation with just two words: “True Love."