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... ake action, regardless of victory or defeat, they would unconditionally agree to Tiancang Pavilion to set up branches in the North and the West, and would unconditionally support all Tiancang Pavilion's business.


What does Tiancang Pavilion do?


Tianzang Pavilion was in the business of buying and selling information. The North and the West's move was tantamount to spreading all their secrets in front of Tiancang Pavilion and letting Tiancang Pavilion do whatever they wante ...

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He is the renowned playboy that terrifies the world, and countless people’s supreme king.

A night was turned upside down as she recklessly pushed him down on the bed, her face clear and cold: Remember, you’re bottom, I’m top!

“Offending me, aren’t you afraid I’ll kill you?”

“Not afraid. You wouldn’t. ”

Little by little pressing his bottom line, time by time declaring her sovereignty.

Shen Shenxue’s principle is: Even if the entire world spoiled him, she absolutely had to domesticate him into a loyal dog.

Quan Shi: There’s people who love your beautiful and alluring image, there’s people who love your rich spirit, and only I hate your never conceding stubbornness and your endless passionate, deep love.

TL Note: The title’s a play on words, and the words ‘how have you been?’ is meant to be said with a malicious intent behind it (alternate title translation would be, ‘Hope You’ve Been Unwell’ for the latter portion)

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The Omnistore SystemChapter 307 bathroom breaks, backdoors, and armpits
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“Coming live to you, from Cerou Street, this is MBP News, and we have an unfolding situation to report. Late last night, at approximately 3:00 AM, an explosive-like sound reverberated through this area, disrupting the sleep of residents and instilling fear in their hearts,” the news anchor, a striking figure, delivered the report with poise, standing before the camera amidst a bustling scene.

In the background, the blaring horns of ambulances and police vehicles disturbed the serenity of the beautiful morning light. Two individuals wearing protective suits, presumably forensic experts, held a stretcher carrying a charred body.

The news anchor, who had been reporting earlier, placed a hand on her ear, fitted with an earpiece, and looked visibly surprised. Her voice filled with urgency as she continued, “We have just received an update from our headquarters regarding the sole fatality in this unexpected incident. The victim of this tragic event is none other than Norman, the famous gigolo of Night palace.”

“My colleague, who was set to cover an event today at Nightplace, obtained this information firsthand from Countess Maria, who held a special place for Norman in her heart. Our focus this morning is on this breaking news,” the female news reporter continued amidst the chaotic scene, while Norman's charred body lay alone in the ambulance.

Meanwhile, in a different world, a young boy lay fast asleep with his head on the table. The sun, seemingly displeased with the boy's carefree slumber, cast its rays directly onto his face. Annoyed by the intrusion, the boy shifted his head in another direction, unwilling to be roused from his deep sleep.

*ZZZr Zzrz Zzrzzr* However, an additional source disturbed his sleep, filling the room with a buzzing sound. The boy furrowed his brows in annoyance, his eyes still closed. He searched his surroundings and discovered a glass-like slab. With closed eyes, he slid his finger across it and placed it near his ear.

“Hello...” he mumbled in his drowsy voice, which carried a hint of depth.

“Hey, Pissed-up Prat, where are you?” a voice laced with disdain emanated from the slab.

The boy, referred to as the “Pissed-up Prat” by the irritating female voice, recognized it as a voice he heard frequently but couldn't recall its owner. With his eyes still closed, he inquired, “Who is this?”

“What do you mean, 'who is this'? Wake up, come home, or eat shit for breakfast if you prefer!” the voice behind the transparent slab retorted before falling silent.

The boy, still not fully awakened, gazed at the half-opened glass slab with a mixture of confusion and surprise. As his eyes darted around the room, he became increasingly shocked.

As he recollected the fragmented memories from the night before he lost consciousness, his gaze fell upon the entrance of the shop. Once old and damp, it now bore a different appearance. While not transformed into a luxurious space, it had undergone improvements compared to its previously dilapidated state.

The shop took on a rectangular shape, with one longer side adorned with wooden shelves intricately patterned. Rows of empty glass jars lined these shelves. On the opposite side, there was another wooden shelf, also displaying empty jars. Towards the beginning of the counter, where the boy had been sleeping, there stood a peculiar machine.

Confusion etched across his face, he murmured to himself, “Whose shop is this?”

In response to his question, a mechanical voice resonated in his mind.

[The Omnistore belongs to you, host.]

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Mu Xiaoya’s disease was a genetic disease. Unless the gene was changed, there was no possibility of cure. However, Bai Chuan was the only person who tried to cure her after she fell ill.

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Bai Chuan: “I want to marry you.”

Mu Xiaoya laughed: “If you marry me, you will soon become a widower.”

Bai Chuan insisted: “I – I want to marry you.”

Bai Chuan, who has cognitive impairments, can’t express his meaning very well, and can only repeat it over and over again.

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The starlight in the eyes of Bai Chuan was the most beautiful scenery that Mu Xiaoya had ever seen in her life.

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