Sweet Western Treasure

Bai Chuwei has lived for five thousand years, and after becoming an ancestor of all human beings, she descends the mountains and initiates the plot of a novel. 
A new female student is transferred into Henghua Secondary School Year 3. The young lady has bright eyes, white teeth, red lips and her appearance is similar to an immortal fairy. But unfortunately, she has Eighth-Grader Syndrome.
“The wealth of ten Duan Family added together does not even make up half of my combined wealth over the past five thousand years.”
“The first classic masterpiece of China? Oh I casually wrote that for fun two decades ago.”
“Scientific research isn’t comparable to flying in the skies with a sword. Today, this ancestor here shall teach everyone how to cultivate scientifically.”
The online lurkers reveal a snort of contempt and wait to see Bai Chuwei slapping herself in the face after acting so pretentiously. Eventually, the China Property Statistics Association reveals this particular information: The respected ancestor is the richest person in the world, owning the most number of gold mines, hundreds of islands, and countless property worldwide. 
China Writer’s Association: @Bai Chuwei, Respected ancestor, when will you continue updating your book after having stopped it for two centuries?

The Young Matriarch

In Duan Feihan's heart, Xu Xingchen was already as good as dead, and yet... he didn't die?


Duan Xingye curled his lips and sent a voice message, "Indeed, not only did he not die, but he didn't even suffer a scratch. His luck is so enviable that I would've definitely kicked the bucket if it had been me."


Duan Xingye added, "Weiwei seemed to have known all along that Xu Xingchen and the others wouldn't die."


Otherwise, she wouldn't have let him accompany his dear father to search for people.


Duan Xingye was genuinely envious. Unlike him who didn't seek trouble and yet nearly got killed by Xu Xingchen's own mother, his luck was the worst.


Dressed in a loose navy-blue pajama suitable for early autumn, a towel draped over his shoulder, cold water droplets slid down from his ink-black, disheveled hair, falling into the towel...


A deep uncertainty flickered through Duan Feihan's eyes. It was just too strange.


Chapter 664: Is this a novel world?