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Books by Confident Peng
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Fanqie books matched on the author's name.
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- The Heir's Stratagem: A Concubine-Born Son Takes Charge of the Household 嫡门策：庶子掌家 ## The Heir’s Strategy: The Concubine-born Son Takes Charge Chapter One: Keeping Watch at the Ancestral Hall on a Bitterly Cold Night, a Hidden Edge in the Shadows It was the twentieth year of Qing’an, under the Great Zhou dynasty. The snow was falling in great, fluffy flakes, as if the heavens were giving it away for free. It came pouring down, blanketing the entire city of Qing’an in a hush and turning everything white. In weather like this, most people would have burrowed under the covers lon 3Reads—Score—Shelves
- Honghuang: A Menial Kitchen Hand, I Max Out My Skill Points and Then Slay 洪荒：杂役厨徒，技能点刷满后斩 At three in the morning, the sky was just beginning to turn a bluish gray, like the pale belly of a fish. In the kitchen behind the Chan Sect, Jiang Mo puffed out clouds of white breath as he swung his axe again and again. “Crack! Crack!” The sound of splitting firewood was far too loud in the quiet of early morning. He wore coarse hemp clothes speckled with wood chips and mud. The backs of his hands were red from the cold, but he didn’t dare stop. Why? Because his mother came from a lowly backg —Reads—Score—Shelves
- My Mom Forced Me to Marry into Wealth, So I Eloped with a Poor Guy 我妈逼我嫁豪门，我闪婚了穷小子 Her headphones shut out the noise of the dorm. Lin Xi's fingertips tapped lightly on the drawing tablet, and the lines on the screen danced as colors layered over one another. She was designing a theme poster for the school's arts festival. Energy, creativity, the exuberance of youth. She was very happy with her work. In the signature space at the bottom right, she deftly typed “Publicity Department” instead of her own name. That was enough. She enjoyed creating for its own sake, free from the d —Reads—Score—Shelves
- My Mom Is the Whole Hospital’s Top-Tier Star 我妈是全院顶流 In 1985, a small industrial city in the north was filled with the smell of coal dust and restless ambition. In the cramped room of a workers' apartment block, Li Daqiang spread a mimeographed newspaper across his lap. Even its creased pages couldn't hide the bold black characters: “Ten-thousand-yuan household.” His fingers traced the words, and his heart pounded in his chest. Twenty-year-old Li Daqiang was a proud fitter at Hongxing Machinery Factory, with the iron rice bowl everyone envied. But —Reads—Score—Shelves
- When the TV at My House Starts Ringing 我家电视机一响 The dim yellow light was the only source of illumination in the tiny apartment in this long, cramped tenement building. The bulb’s tungsten filament glowed red, barely lighting the family of five packed together in the room. The air was a mix of lingering warmth from the meal and a damp smell that never seemed to go away. “Where am I supposed to hang these clothes? If they stay here, people will have to turn sideways just to get past.” The mother grumbled as she cleared away the dishes, wiping t —Reads—Score—Shelves
- Whoever Confesses First Loses 谁先表白谁输 The morning sun had yet to pierce the narrow corridor of the apartment block when it was shattered by his mother Wang Xiulan's nagging. “Xiaoming! Get up already! Keep dawdling and you'll be late for the factory's morning shift again!” Li Xiaoming rolled over and pulled the thin, patched quilt over his head. Outside, the knife sharpener's calls, the tofu pudding seller's cries, and the rush of water from a neighbor's faucet all blended into a symphony he had heard for twenty years. He stared at —Reads—Score—Shelves
- The Age of Cultivation: I Just Want to Be a Nobody 修仙时代：我只想当个废物 Chapter 1: A Transmigrator’s Daily Life as a Cultivator and His Bizarre Golden Finger The rough wooden planks dug into Lin Fan’s back. Dust mingled with the sour, musty smell of rotting wood in the air. He opened his eyes to an unfamiliar darkness. Spiderweb-like cracks covered the earthen walls. In the corner, the tiny flame of an oil lamp struggled to stay alight, stretching his shadow into a crooked shape. An unfamiliar weakness coursed through his body. His limbs felt hollow, and he couldn’t —Reads—Score—Shelves
- 2079: I Lie Flat, and the Campus Beauty Pays Me to Date Her 2079：我躺平，校花倒贴钱 It felt as if his soul had been forcibly torn apart, then crudely stitched back together. In 2079, inside a freezing execution chamber, a metal syringe pierced his neck. His name was Li Ming, the world’s leading AI ethics researcher. After trespassing into the forbidden territory of “time-space technology,” he had been designated a target for elimination. In the final second before his consciousness faded, his dying AI assistant, “Echo,” activated a mutual-destruction protocol. [Consciousness be —Reads—Score—Shelves
- The Eerie-Eyed Taoist: A Record of Trading Fear for Ten Thousand Hauntings 诡瞳道士：万诡恐惧兑换录 It was growing dark, like a huge piece of black cloth slowly falling over the sky, blotting out the last traces of sunset. The mountain wind howled through the woods, sounding like vengeful ghosts sobbing under their breath. It sent a chill down the spine. On the border of the Great Zhao Dynasty lay a remote little mountain village, unknown to most. At that moment, an eerie silence hung over the entire place. Ning Chengzhen, a young Daoist in a tattered robe, was walking toward the village with —Reads—Score—Shelves
- The Cardmaster from a Humble Family: A Millennium of Secrets in the Ancestral Hall 寒门卡主：族祠牌位里的千年秘辛 The bitter winter wind howled against the window lattice as if it cost nothing, sharp as a blade. Su Chenzhou shot upright in bed, his drowsiness vanishing in an instant. “Brother… Big Brother…” In the darkness, his younger sister Su Wanniang’s tearful voice reached him, tugging at his heart like a cat’s claws. Su Chenzhou hurriedly reached out to light the oil lamp by the bed. In the dim yellow light, he saw Su Wanniang’s little face, pale as paper, while tears streamed down her cheeks like bea —Reads—Score—Shelves
- The Age of Cultivation: My Neighbor Is the Demon Venerable 修仙时代：我家邻居是魔尊 The sky was just beginning to brighten. A cool, damp breeze slipped through the window lattice and brushed Lin Fan's cheek. He opened his eyes. The fresh scent of earth mingled with plants filled his nostrils, the most familiar and reassuring smell he had known in the three years since he transmigrated to this world of immortal cultivation. There had been no spiritual qi revival, no overwhelming aura of a king. For three years, he had been nothing more than the son of an ordinary family in Qings —Reads—Score—Shelves
