[Apocalyptic cultivation + no romance + wild imagination]
I was a space-support specialist in the military during the apocalypse, with powerful spatial and extreme-temperature abilities. After I died, I transmigrated to a cultivation world. Fortune smiled on me, and I was born with a water spirit root.
I should have had a smooth life, enjoying peaceful days with my family in a world without zombies.
But overnight, my whole family was murdered and my spirit root stolen, all because someone had figured out how to make spirit-root soup.
“It's true that my fiance took your father's spirit root, but as a general, he has fought on the front lines time and again to protect the common people of this world. Just think of all the battles he won and all the Zhangui he killed. His achievements have long outweighed that tiny mistake of his. Without him, who knows how many civilians would have died? If your father knew, he'd surely be proud of him.”
What shameless logic.
I refuse to let her get away with it. I'll kill everyone who has ever drunk spirit-root soup!
King of the South: “Qingge, you want to kill someone? I'll help!”
King of the East: “That person who disrespected Second Miss, have they been buried yet?”
King of the West: “The moon is beautiful tonight, but it pales beside Miss Ran's grace after killing someone.”
King of the North: “You're the only one who's ever shown me tenderness. If the rest of the world died, I wouldn't care.”
Sword Cultivator Saint: “Boss, where are you going? Don't leave me behind! At least give me a hint, Boss!”
The great clans: “The mistress is here? Quickly, gather everyone to pay our respects! No matter what, we can't let the mistress cast us aside.”
When the truth came to light, I learned that my whole family's lives had been nothing but a tiny sacrifice in someone else's scheme.
How laughable.
Who gave you the right to sacrifice the lives of those of us born with spirit roots?
