Rotting Land: Survive - Chapter 12: The Hard Second Night

Traveling to the world of Xianxia, ​​Shen Ping practiced like walking on thin ice for more than 20 years, but he didn’t have a golden finger. With his ordinary aptitude, his progress in cultivation was slow.

It wasn’t until I planned to lie down completely and married a wife that I was shocked to find that the way I opened the world of Xianxia was a bit wrong!

Fourteen years old Su Bei almost died when she had a high fever, got transmigrated into another world and finally knew a shocking truth–it turned out that the world she was originally in was just a novel and her whole family were villains.

The woman who gave birth to them was the cannon fodder in the novel. She and Su Xiaobao were written like this in the extra chapter. One was a little bastard who tried to bully the male lead’s daughter and eventually got thrown into prison and the other one became an escort, who after having failed to seduce the male lead, was killed by an evil director. They also have a dad whom they never met and was the biggest villain in the book.

Back to her original world, the first thing Su Bei did was to take Su Xiaobao and find their father.

Su Bei: Su Xiaobao, quick, call him.

Su Xiaobao: Call him what?

Su Bei: Call dad.

Su Xiaobao: I don’t want to, do it yourself.

Su Bei: Dad!

Looking at these two dirty children in front of him, Mr. Qin’s eyes showed disgust.

A slime randomly falls into existence. Sapient and born with the ability to recreate parts of the things it preys upon, the highly confused drop of primordial soup decides that the only real thing it can do is become the being at the top of the food chain. A task of longevity in the leaves of the Omniverse.

My name is Yan, and since I was a child, I’ve been able to see some strange things.For example—In elementary school, our new neighbor Aunt Tan had a pair of all-around genius twins, who were like the “precious little geniuses” with halos above their heads. They could recite the English-Chinese dictionary backwards at three, master both Chinese and Western musical instruments by five, and hack into a country’s database by seven…Growing up next to such prodigies, my life was inhumane, tragic, and constantly subjected to comparisons.To escape the comparisons with these “other people’s children,” I specifically applied to a private boarding school for middle school.On my first day, my deskmate was a small, thin girl with bangs, wearing an old uniform, and her voice was as faint as a mosquito’s.Three months later, she woke up from a nap with a “rebirth” halo above her head.She moved effortlessly among the cold academic genius, the wolf-like school bully, the fierce boss, and the gentle childhood friend, leaving me, a lonely onlooker, utterly amazed.By university, I thought I had finally escaped this abnormal world.But as soon as I stepped into my dorm room, my footsteps froze.My roommates each had halos like “ancient times to modern,” “post-apocalyptic superhuman,” “will die if not spending money,” and “ghost king revival.”I clutched my little blanket and applied to the counselor for a room change, but to no avail.Over time, I gradually got used to it. “Handover systems,” “management systems,” “book transmigration,” “infinite worlds,” “three-and-a-half-year-olds,” “interstellar live streams,” “red envelope groups”…The types of halos kept increasing, and I was able to calmly ignore all of it, focusing on my own life.Every morning, I skillfully helped my “ancient to modern” roommate, who was being blacklisted online, dodge campus paparazzi and secure seats for class.At noon, I assisted my tycoon roommate in distributing today’s haul of luxury skincare and designer bags, tasting the city’s top private chef’s custom lunchbox, and exclaiming with emotion, “Darling, can I really accept these?”In the evening, I enjoyed the flowers and plants cultivated by my superhuman roommate on the balcony, tasting a mutated cherry tomato and commenting, “I feel refreshed and purified.”Late at night, when my ghost king roommate quietly climbed back through the window, I peeked out to ask, “You’re back a bit late today, didn’t bring anything back, did you?”My name is Yan, and I am not the protagonist of this world.