The Real Rich Daughter is Exposed at a Variety Show - Chapter 253 - : Being Together Alone

Tragically, Dan Ziwei was hit by a car, and when he woke up, two hundred years had passed. Even more tragically, he still had his strange variant of nymphomania.

“I’m very sorry, but we are unable to cure you.”

“W-wait! Even AIDS can be cured now, how come nymphomania can’t?”

“Ha… haha…”

There was no other choice, Dan Ziwei could only return to his old job of being a quiet, peaceful gamer. Though, the games nowadays were a bit… strange…

Scenario 1: You like to shake hands with strangers.
Scenario 2: You like to hug friends.
Scenario 3: You’re a bottom.
Scenario 4: You’re a bottom.
Scenario 5: Important things should be said twice.

Dan Ziwei: … How am I meant to play a game like this?! (╯‵□′)╯︵┻━┻

- Description from Novelupdates

The world I transmigrated into was a dark fantasy game universe, devoid of hope or dreams.Doesn’t feel like it at all, though.

I belong to a good sect that has never turned its back on me for my poor potential, has never forced me to study martial arts, and even helped arrange a betrothal for me when I was young.

My fiancée is a much renowned hot-tempered young miss. She’s beautiful, strong, and deeply loves me. Upon my start down the path of the Jianghu, I entirely relied on her to provide cover for me and before long, I became renowned as the #1 Pretty Boy of the Immortal Path.

Yet one day, I discovered that this person is apparently a man. A man in drag!

More unforgivable is that he thought I was a woman dressing as a man!

Me, as if my liver and guts are being cut to pieces: “Brother, what have you done with my fiancée?”

Him, as if a knife has been twisted in his heart: “Brother, what have *you* done with my fiancée?”

The waters of the Jianghu are indeed murky. Even if I am starving, even if I’m dying far from home, from this point on, I will not eat even a mouthful of rice prepared by him.

—So fragrant.

- Description from Novelupdates

Perhaps the paintings in a museum are subjected to more nonsense than you would hear anywhere else in the world.The language that comes out of an artist’s life is the painting itself. It contains the most ordinary lives that know failure, desire, recoiling in fear, and compromise.Learning is about understanding that language. We miss much of what the paintings speak because there is no way to ask the long-dead painters about the philosophy of their lives.In an alleyway in the residential area of Jongno, there’s a peculiar art gallery. This place enables us to transcend such limitations. By sheer coincidence, I ended up visiting that place and began living an entirely different life.