The history of love is full of regrets.

Xu Zimei found himself reborn, carrying with him all the heaven-shaking cultivation and memories from his previous life.
But something was off about the script. Isn’t reincarnation always the protagonist’s theme? However, I was cast as the villain!
This is the story of a villain's step-by-step journey to becoming the Demon King.
——————————
In an era of great strife, where mystical arts resonated!
An elder of the True Martial Holy Sect sat at the Willow Bank River Fishing Platform when suddenly he heard the dragon’s roar. Three thousand carps knocked at the gate of life, transforming into the Measureless Golden Dragon, soaring through the firmament, graceful as a startling swan!
There were strongmen who measured the heavens and earth with their strides, monks who sat in meditation in temples for three thousand years, achieving sudden enlightenment—auspicious clouds descended, and all laws of magic cheered in chorus.
Blood moons darkened the night, rainbows cut through the daylight.
There was a swordsman with a wooden sword on his back who, with a turn and a raise of his hand, shattered thousands of miles of rivers and mountains.
In the south of the city, a ragged beggar with a broken willow twig dared to assault the Holy Court of a sect that boasted three emperors.

I Truly Am The Villian

Hearing the woman's words, Li Changhe heaved a long sigh.


"When has Heavenly Dao Academy ever fallen so low," he lamented.


"A tiger is still a tiger even when it lands on the flat ground, and a dragon is still a dragon even when it swims in shallow waters," someone calmly remarked from the side.


"Regardless, we are not ones to be coerced," added another.


"Enough," the woman at the head seemed a bit tired.


Leaning back in her chair, she waved her hand and said, "Just do as I have instructed for now."


Watching the slowly departing figures, the woman's eyes were profound, pondering something unknown.


The dawn was radiant, and the purple qi came from the east for thousands of miles.


Xu Zimei stretched lazily and walked out of the room.


In the Loulan Courtyard, Mo Tianming had risen early, sitting cross-legged under an ancient ginkgo tree.


He was inhaling and exhaling the purple qi, a rich one drifting from the horizon.


Chapter 847: Venerable Nu, Vermilion Bird Island