Don't Mind Me, I'm Just A Mystic arts Major - Chapter 39. Back Home

Magic, eastern fantasy, cultivation, scientific technology…

# SPATIAL # FOOD # FIGUREHEAD # AGRICULTUREThe only daughter of General Dingguo was lost the year she was born, and everyone thought she had very bad luck. Who would have thought that more than ten years later, they would find her? The young master and ladies of various families in the capital gossiped a lot about it, saying this young lady from the General’s house must be stupid, poor, ugly, and unwanted. Hearing this, the new champion sneered, “They call her stupid?” The richest man in Jiangnan mocked, “They call her poor?” The jade-face divine doctor scoffed, “They call her ugly?”The Imperial Army’s commander was puzzled. “They say she’s unwanted?”These men captivated all women everywhere, but when they saw that mountain girl, they were all smitten and had eyes for no other. The blood-stained, cold, and aloof prince held his sword and gave a chilling smile. “Who will you choose, my fiancee?”

In her third year living in this steampunk world, Ciel gained the ability to simulate both the past and the future.These simulations turned into a game where she could act without restraint, and after countless trials, real life became a replica she could navigate as though speedrunning it.Churches, potions, mutations, the Old Gods, witches, sealed artifacts… none of these have anything to do with Ciel. She’s just an ordinary girl who wishes for a peaceful life.She just happens to be particularly skilled at snuffing out danger before it even begins.

In the Kunlun Snow Palace, a sage once said, those who pass away wander, while the living cannot let go.Once the soul departs, it will wither like the autumn grass.Those who are reborn from the dead, existing apart from the mortal realm, shall be shunned by all celestial sects and smitten as undead demons.On this day, a youth awakens from within a coffin, his blood dry and his bones chilled, to find himself a century old upon opening his eyes.A single tear from a sage awaited, a constant companion, may unravel the dreams of the past.Seeking not immortality but a mundane death, not to lament with the ages over lost love and resentment, but only wishing to grow old with tenderness in this lifetime, beneath the white clouds that hold no envy for the heavenly realms.