Mixing It Up in Another World with a Game System

My Villain Script Is Ready has started. Please add my upcoming novels, Making Money to Support My Husband with a Trading System and I Fell in Love Online with Myself from a Hundred Years Ago, to your favorites. As a healer without a bonded DPS, Geng Xinghe often ran into DPS players in random groups who charged off at the start like unleashed dogs. He had to chase them all over the battlefield to heal them, only for them to turn on voice chat and yell, “This healer hasn't healed me once the whole match!” After yet another arena match where he spent the entire game chasing the DPS players to heal them, only to be focused down and killed while his teammates complained over voice chat that he was a lousy healer who couldn't even keep them alive when they stood still, Geng Xinghe looked at the DPS players' healing received per second, which was in the tens of thousands, and at his own arena record, which was all red. He snapped. They say a strict upbringing makes a good child, but a healer just raises enemies. If he healed this bunch of idiots again, he'd be a dog. As soon as the arena match ended, the first thing Geng Xinghe did was dismantle his healer gear and message a power-leveling service, asking them to get him a full set of DPS gear. But before he could get his gear, Geng Xinghe transmigrated with his game account when his computer tower overloaded and exploded. The good news: He'd brought the spirit stones, cosmetics, and crafting skills in his inventory with him. The bad news: His level had reset to zero. On top of that, although he'd dismantled his healer gear before transmigrating, he'd forgotten to switch to DPS. The DPS specialization couldn't be switched to until level fifty. Looking at his +233 healing and the -1, -1, -1 damage from his only attack skill, Geng Xinghe fell silent. Did he... have no choice but to find some sucker to be his bonded DPS? - Chi Changye had thought his life would follow a predictable path: cultivate the sword, enroll in school, and eventually become a disciple of some Sword Venerable. But after one expedition, an unusual beauty suddenly appeared in his otherwise dull life. The beauty was beautiful, all right, but not very bright. Every morning, he had to spend some time admiring himself in the mirror, completely lost in his own good looks. Every month, he spent a fortune in spirit stones on all kinds of flamboyant outfits, only to toss them into his storage bag after wearing them for a single day. On top of that, he was extremely protective of his face. Fighting was fine, but getting his face hurt was not. Geng Xinghe put it this way: Cosmetics can be ugly, but I can't go without them. Being strong is only temporary, but being handsome lasts a lifetime. “Right, darling?” Geng Xinghe asked, dressed in a newly purchased outfit that left most of his chest and thighs bare as he straddled Chi Changye's lap and leaned in close. Chi Changye looked at the various beautiful disciples he'd taken in and his many good-looking friends. In silence, he took off his outer robe and draped it over Geng Xinghe, whose outfit barely covered him. “Put on some more clothes. You'll catch a chill.” A shameless, self-obsessed, flamboyant beauty addict shou × a serious, upright sword cultivator gong -- Upcoming novel one: Making Money to Support My Husband with a Trading System Jing Yan transmigrated into the body of a sickly man in the Song Dynasty, a hapless fellow whose family had split him off with his infant younger brother. He'd just married a husband whom his aunt had bought for eight hundred copper coins, a man covered in wounds who looked like he wouldn't live more than a few days. The entire family's assets amounted to a broken bamboo hut in the mountains, an old straw mat, two earthenware jars, and just enough coarse rice to feed two people for three days. It was a disastrous start, but the good news was that he came with a Pinduoduo System that let him make money by reselling goods between two worlds. The bad news was that the System balance was only three yuan, and the goods he'd listed had no exposure and weren't selling. With no other choice, Jing Yan returned to his old trade and started making short videos to sell goods. Before long, he'd made a name for his local specialties. With high-yield crop seeds, cheap and plentiful seasonings, clearance fabrics, exquisite glassware, and more, their life in ancient times grew more and more comfortable. But just as his life was finally getting on track, the Song Dynasty fell into chaos and foreign invaders attacked. Only then did Jing Yan learn that his husband, whom he'd painstakingly nursed back to health and plumped up a little, was the son of a great general targeted by the emperor. After the general died in battle, the emperor remembered his son, so an imperial edict forced Jing Yan and his husband to head to the border and fight off the enemy. Supplies were scarce and military pay was being embezzled. The soldiers had to keep warm with animal skins, fill their stomachs with roots and melted snow, and face exceptionally vicious foreign enemies. Jing Yan sighed and bought them heaps of rice, meat, winter clothes, anti-inflammatory medicine, weapon blueprints, gunpowder, and more, doing his best to provide logistical support for his husband. But how had he gone from handling logistics to becoming emperor? Upcoming novel two: I Fell in Love Online with Myself from a Hundred Years Ago After a serious illness, Fu Muyang dreamed of his past-life self. Compared with himself in this life, born in a peaceful era with no ambition and content to lie flat, the previous-life [Fu Muyang] lived in the country's most desperate and impoverished period. For the sake of their country's development, [Fu Muyang] and a group of older experts had worked themselves to the bone, enduring mockery and discrimination from foreigners, all just to bring home the knowledge that had been kept from them. Watching [Fu Muyang] get mocked and bullied by those arrogant people from Country A, yet still spend every day in the library, struggling over a technology that Fu Muyang knew had long since been outdated, living on the cheapest bread and water and staying up until two or three every night, Fu Muyang could no longer stand by. He rolled up his sleeves and stepped in. The patented knowledge those people had collectively locked away could be found online with a quick search. The defective machine tools and equipment those people sold to his country at exorbitant prices could be bought from manufacturers for the price of scrap metal. In fact, because of how long it had been, even the oldest machines he could get were more advanced than the most cutting-edge equipment of that era. He could ask retired technicians to record high-definition instructional videos teaching them the manufacturing processes those people had kept secret. Those people had taken advantage of Xia Country's lack of preparation to scheme their way into seizing vast resources. This time, he'd make them give it all back. Fu Muyang folded his arms. Giving himself a golden finger was, in one word, awesome! The only downside was that his golden finger got a little too carried away. Before he knew it, he'd even solved [Fu Muyang]'s relationship problems. Theme: Strive without giving up; a better life is ours to build ourselves.