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

Bai Chuwei eyed Su Qiuqiu with suspicion, thinking the girl hadn't given up her thieving ambitions, still hoping Duan Feihan would become her spiritual partner?


Bai Chuwei looked at Duan Feihan with a forced smile, her tone light, "President Duan, you're quite popular, with many admirers."


Was Duan Feihan using his actions to prove to his ancestors that they were unwilling to be his, Duan Sishen's, spiritual partner, as if there were plenty of vixens fighting to be it?


Duan Feihan remained silent, as if he hadn't said anything.


That tone, so sour it could curdle milk.


The corners of Duan Feihan's mouth curved slightly, about to speak, when suddenly his eyes sharpened.


He abruptly raised his left hand, and both Bai Chuwei and Su Qiuqiu's gazes shifted to his wrist. The light brown thread of the Sandalwood Buddhist Beads suddenly snapped, the beads rolling down along the broken gold thread, clunking dully upon the dry ground as they fell.


Chapter 695: The Face Is Almost Slapped into Ruins