From the Heavens Descended an Immortal Sister - Chapter 245 - 341: Gossip-filled Tianjiang (Sixth Update)_1

Dual cultivation and apocalypse—words that mix like oil and water. There's nothing charming about seducing feral women on the road.

However, when Kaze Lexicon, the emperor of the Immortal Plane, got transmigrated into the past, he refused to give up his debaucherous ways—apocalypse or otherwise.

Armed with the knowledge of the future and an encyclopedia of overpowered cultivation techniques, he immediately set forth to obtain resources and build a lavish settlement to live a comfortable life dual cultivating in the apocalypse.

However, while it's obscenely protected and powerful, he finds himself in another predicament. The cultivators farming humans for their war, and the desperate humans, become enemies far more dangerous than the zombies and monsters that afflict humanity.

Join Kaze as he rebuilds his reputation from a bullied weeb, obtains wealth, builds power, starts a faction, makes lemonade, trains his people, protects his past lovers, conquers settlements, and fights humans, monsters, and cultivators, all for the sake of two obscene goals: enjoying life and building an army of engineers to bring modern technology to the higher planes.

Coming from the modern era, she was sent to a strange world. The body she possessed previously belonged to a young woman whose family was thrown away by their clan. However with the “Dan Fu Zong”, the inheritance from her old world, she steps on the path of cultivation, hoping to one day become an immortal.

- Description from Novelupdates

Qi Le – gender: male, sexual interest: women – suffered from congenital heart disease and died early. However, God played a small trick on him and placed his soul inside the body of a trashy shou.

I am Racist.…I mean, my name is Racis T.I was a stand-up comedian. The flop kind. The type who only got laughs when someone else was roasting him.One night, I was doing a gig at a shady, run-down bar—the kind where tattooed bikers drink motor oil for breakfast. I went in with my usual dark humor, but my jokes were getting the same reaction as my dating profile: complete silence.That didn’t sit right with my inner artist, who was already starving to death. So I did what any committed comedian would—I went darker.Turns out, one of my jokes (or all of them?) triggered a guy so hard that he pulled a trigger. Headshot. Instant death.But hey, look at this: A guy got triggered, so he pulled the trigger. That’s wordplay. But who cares? I’m dead anyway.All I wanted was a successful show, people laughing, and maybe a few girls swooning over my wit. I never cared about money. The millions I’d have made would have gone to charity—specifically, 0.001% of it. See? I’m generous like that.Anyway, death is death. My story should’ve ended there.But… if there is an afterlife, I had a simple wish: become a successful comedian, find a loving wife, and have just enough money to afford three meals a day… and maybe a humble little private yacht. Or a jet. But that’s it. Because, like I said, I don’t care about money.Unfortunately, wishes don’t work that way.Because, well—there was an afterlife.And it was absolutely not what I wished for.