Seven Wicked Disciples Ask Every Day: Has Master Breathed Her Last?

[Transmigrate into a Book] [Villainous Master] [Multiple Heroines] [Daily Blind Boxes] [Hilarious Dark History] [Misguided Interpretations] [Beating Up the Chosen One] [No Saintly Protagonist]

I, a writer of melodramatic angst novels, transmigrated into the book as a villainous master whose cultivation had been crippled and who wouldn't survive three days!

Outside my cave, seven stunning female disciples I'd "abused" had become powerful figures in their own right. They were lined up, waiting for me to breathe my last so they could carve me up!

My eldest disciple brought in a cultivation-destroying powder. My second disciple had sharpened a soul-ripping blade. My third disciple was planning to feed my Supreme Bone to the male lead she simped for...

That night, the [Filial Disciples Turn Their Devotion into Rewards System] activated!

[Survive until midnight tonight!]

[For each murderous intent from a wicked disciple that you endure and survive, your cultivation and divine abilities will be returned twofold tomorrow morning!]

Lying on my sickbed, I looked at the murderous glint in my eldest disciple's eyes and promptly pulled out the "Discarded Character Settings Collection" I'd written back when I was outlining the story.

The flaws that would make them go berserk were traps I'd laid myself.

The weaknesses hidden in their pasts were things I'd made up on a whim.

My dear disciples, let your master remind you what proper sect discipline really means!