There's Something Wrong With This Account - Chapter 223 - , [Double Standard Dog] (Seeking Monthly Tickets!)

Qiao Qingyu found herself transported into a period novel, becoming He Xiu Yu's dreadful ex-wife.She's the worst of them all—lazy, dumb, and wicked.She serves as a foil whose sole purpose is to advance the plot, a tool for slapstick comedy, and a contrast to highlight the intelligence and kindness of the female lead.Everyone is eagerly waiting for her to exit the stage.Faced with dangers ahead and behind, Qiao Qingyu isn't bothered at all. After all, she possesses a seed laboratory.The joy of having a golden finger is beyond your wildest imaginings!

Xiao Yi, an orphan raised by a disrespectful old man, possessed mysterious ancient martial arts and a unique skill in traditional Chinese medicine. At the age of twenty, he suddenly received the most baffling mission from the old man: to attend the renowned first-tier university, University Z, as a student, initiating his spectacular modern urban life. In the city, he began to write his own eternal legend...

At the end of the road, in the throes of despair and impending death, Le Yu shouted defiantly:“If you have the guts, then kill me.”The enemy sneered and said:“I've never heard such a strange request.”Le Yu died.Then Le Yu came back to life, living in the enemy's body.This is a story where being killed means possessing the killer.“Why are the ones who kill me always some enigmatic, cunning figures with complicated backstories and numerous impending quests?Why aren't there some honest, wealthy, lady-charmer winners in life coming to kill me!?”

No one knows when the first Clough door appeared. All people know is that a new era began when it was pushed open.Fortresses, sublimators, pillars of star essence, three-dimensional armaments, infinite energy, who can escape the sweeping tide of the times?In the abyss, the reverse realm, the skins, the alien gods, the mad king, the rulers, and the dark creatures, all howl in madness!Inside the black mist, the demons and ghosts crawl forward as a cross-dimensional migration silently brews.