PREVIEW

... Su Jianan seemed to have heard Manny Zhang’s voice-

Young, reckless and provocative.

When her mother was still alive, she had taught Su Jianan more than once that one should be calm and vigilant, but not to speculate on others with malice.

For so many years, unless she came across a matter of principle, Su Jianan never provoked others, nor was she ever provoked.

It was the first time that someone had provoked her so carelessly and with a foot on her bottom line. < ...

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Until he became the lowest-ranked master, his lonely and luckless life never changed.

Suddenly one day, a descendant injected him with a nanomachine, and the machine started ‘speaking’ to him.

[I am the seventh generation Nanomachine manufactured by Sky Cooperation, and I am operating as a central nerve connected to your brain.]

“What? What are you talking about?”

This was beyond the boy’s knowledge, he turned pale.

The Nanomachine linked to his cerebrum realized the User was not understanding a single word it said.

“Who are you, and why are you doing this to me?”

[“I am the seventh generation Nanomachine.]

“Nano Mashin?”

[Yes, Nanomachine.]

The boy’s face hardened.

Mashin was the deity the Mashin Religion worshipped, along with the Sacred Fire.

The religions’ Master communicated with Mashin.

“Um, are you really Mashin?”

The boy knelt down and asked with a trembling voice. At this, the Nanomachine attached to his cerebrum realized it had been misunderstood.

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My name is Yan, and since I was a child, I’ve been able to see some strange things.For example—In elementary school, our new neighbor Aunt Tan had a pair of all-around genius twins, who were like the “precious little geniuses” with halos above their heads. They could recite the English-Chinese dictionary backwards at three, master both Chinese and Western musical instruments by five, and hack into a country’s database by seven…Growing up next to such prodigies, my life was inhumane, tragic, and constantly subjected to comparisons.To escape the comparisons with these “other people’s children,” I specifically applied to a private boarding school for middle school.On my first day, my deskmate was a small, thin girl with bangs, wearing an old uniform, and her voice was as faint as a mosquito’s.Three months later, she woke up from a nap with a “rebirth” halo above her head.She moved effortlessly among the cold academic genius, the wolf-like school bully, the fierce boss, and the gentle childhood friend, leaving me, a lonely onlooker, utterly amazed.By university, I thought I had finally escaped this abnormal world.But as soon as I stepped into my dorm room, my footsteps froze.My roommates each had halos like “ancient times to modern,” “post-apocalyptic superhuman,” “will die if not spending money,” and “ghost king revival.”I clutched my little blanket and applied to the counselor for a room change, but to no avail.Over time, I gradually got used to it. “Handover systems,” “management systems,” “book transmigration,” “infinite worlds,” “three-and-a-half-year-olds,” “interstellar live streams,” “red envelope groups”…The types of halos kept increasing, and I was able to calmly ignore all of it, focusing on my own life.Every morning, I skillfully helped my “ancient to modern” roommate, who was being blacklisted online, dodge campus paparazzi and secure seats for class.At noon, I assisted my tycoon roommate in distributing today’s haul of luxury skincare and designer bags, tasting the city’s top private chef’s custom lunchbox, and exclaiming with emotion, “Darling, can I really accept these?”In the evening, I enjoyed the flowers and plants cultivated by my superhuman roommate on the balcony, tasting a mutated cherry tomato and commenting, “I feel refreshed and purified.”Late at night, when my ghost king roommate quietly climbed back through the window, I peeked out to ask, “You’re back a bit late today, didn’t bring anything back, did you?”My name is Yan, and I am not the protagonist of this world.

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Since I’m good-looking, I might as well become an actor.

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I became a side-character who died in anguish because of her good-for-nothing husband.

If I can’t avoid getting married, why don’t I change who I marry instead?

“Excellent, marriage sounds good.”

“Wise choice. Then let’s have a wedding ceremony that isn’t too ceremonious. Following that, I’ll need you to go down to the Fief and behave like the lady of the house until I call for you. Naturally, there won’t be any time to spend in leisure whilst dousing yourself in luxuries.”

“I’m not marrying you, but your father instead.”

“……Pardon?”

“I’m not going to marry you. Do you have a problem with that?”