67 Book(s) Related to cultivation realms

It was the kind of cold that seeped into your bones.
In my past life, I was locked in the abandoned freezer beneath St. Jude Preparatory Academy.
Outside the door stood my biological brother Spencer, along with Landon—my boyfriend of three years. And between them, wearing Landon's oversized football jacket, was my stepsister Lacey.
"Blythe, just admit you bullied me. Post an apology video to the whole school, and Spencer will let you out." Lacey's voice trembled, fake tears glistening at the corners of her eyes.
Spencer's voice cut through the metal door like ice:
"Blythe, you brought this on yourself. You've been terrorizing Lacey at school, pushed her to the edge. Maybe some time in there will teach you what decency looks like."
Landon's voice dripped with disappointment: "Jesus, Blythe. I thought I knew you. This isn't who you are."
I pounded on the iron door until my fists were raw, screaming until my voice gave out.
I told them the truth—that I never touched Lacey. That she was the one forcing girls to their knees in the bathroom. That she stole my exam. That every shred of "evidence" was manufactured.
No one believed me.
I froze to death in that sub-zero hellhole.
As the cold claimed me, staring at my blue-purple fingers, all I felt was pure, burning hate.
Then I opened my eyes again—back to the day it all began.

I was their real daughter.

The lost princess they found, brought home, and promised to protect.

But every time she cried, I was the one punished.

Every time she bled, I was the one accused.

When she disappeared, they said it was my fault. They tore my memories apart to prove it.

Fine , only if they stand where I stood, feel what I felt, will they ever know my pain.

David, an ordinary man leading a monotonous life in a 9-to-5 job, found solace in the escapism of webnovels. His mundane existence took an unexpected turn when, engrossed in a new title, 'Martial War: An Epic Saga,' he succumbed to a sudden brain aneurysm.

To his bewilderment, David awoke in the very world he had been reading about, reincarnated into the unfolding narrative. The catch? He had only read the prologue, leaving his knowledge of the future blank. His second chance at life took a dark turn when he was sold to a shadowy organization that subjected him to abuse, molding him into a lethal assassin.

His salvation came unexpectedly when he was rescued by the novel's protagonist, earning a place as the protagonist's right-hand man. As their alliance flourished, David found himself entangled in a tumultuous life, culminating in a heroic but tragic end on the battlefield. His dying wish for peace remained unfulfilled as, contrary to his expectations, death did not bring respite.

Instead, David experienced an unnerving regression, returning to the womb. Determined to embrace a serene existence in his next life, he vowed to rest peacefully. Yet, the relentless hand of fate had other plans for him. Will he find the tranquility he seeks, or is destiny bound to disrupt his quest for rest once again? The journey unfolds as David navigates the unpredictable twists of his reincarnated existence.

Born in the slums, Wendy was heartlessly dumped by her self made boyfriend.
"You're not good enough for me."
She sneered, smashed his Ferrari, then climbed into a limited edition hypercar and drove away.
What her ex never knew was that the "burden" he abandoned was the one who made him successful.
Then her birth mother, who had abandoned her years ago, suddenly returned and demanded that Wendy go home and marry in place of her disabled sister.
Wendy smiled.
"Fine. If you all want me back so badly, I'll come home. And I'll repay every single one of you."

Three days after the miscarriage, I dragged my body — still not healed — to a rooftop club in Manhattan.
All because tomorrow was Bradley's birthday.
I wanted to buy him a gift. With money I'd earned myself.
But just before I pushed open the door to the VVIP suite, I heard his voice.
"That broke girl from Brooklyn? She was just a bet. A toy I won."
I peered through the crack in the door.
The man who'd shown up every day in grease-stained coveralls, crying about how tight money was — that same man now stood in a tailored suit, a watch on his wrist that cost more than I made in a year.
Someone asked, "So what about your fiancée?"
Bradley laughed — easy, unbothered.
"The wedding's still on. Obviously."
I stood in the hallway, one hand pressed against my stomach, where the ache still hadn't left, and suddenly everything made sense.
Three years of love — fake. His poverty — fake. Even the part where I believed he'd loved me. Had that been fake too?
I didn't cry. I didn't storm in and demand answers.
I just looked down at the birthday gift in my hands.
And in that moment, I made my decision —I was done with him.

I was the hottest A-list actress in Hollywood, until a few deepfaked videos of me "abusing assistants" and malicious photos of my "rotting face" dragged me straight to hell.
In just one month, I became a monster despised by the entire internet.
Facing tens of thousands of death threats telling me to "die with a rotting face."
They wanted me to die crying. I didn't. Instead, I decided to express my deepest gratitude to the bullies who ruined my life.
And my "thank you" is going to cost a fortune.
But I never imagined the real monster wasn't hiding behind a screen—he was holding the syringe.

Six months ago, a yacht explosion consumed everyone I loved: my husband Leonard, my parents, and my brother.
I escaped only because of stomach pain that kept me from boarding. My adopted sister Claire became the sole survivor.
Since then, I've become an empty shell.
Even after being diagnosed with terminal uterine cancer, even while carrying my late husband's child, I've endured the agony of chemotherapy alone, exhausting what little strength remains to scrape together money for Claire—who hides away in a private care facility, claiming severe PTSD.
Until this winter day, with a blizzard approaching.
Dragging my dying body to my husband's memorial to pay respects, I discovered a credit card statement—charges made three months after his death.
Following the address on that receipt, I pushed open the door of a luxurious suburban villa.
Inside, it was warm as spring. My parents and brother, who should have been at the bottom of the ocean, stood there perfectly alive.
At the center of the room, my husband—the man I'd grieved for day and night—was kissing my adopted sister, his lips tender against hers.
The whole family was celebrating, raising glasses to toast the infant cradled in Claire's arms—barely a month old.
There had never been any disaster at sea.
It was all a meticulously planned hoax—their twisted way to erase me from their lives forever.

I have been tormented by a strange illness for ten years, with blood draws and surgeries being commonplace.
My mother always encouraged me, saying, "Nian Nian, bear with it a little longer. The pain will be over soon. Mom and Dad are doing this to save your life."
Hoping to be cured as soon as possible, I gritted my teeth and endured ten years of painful treatments, even if it meant living like a lab subject.
That was until I accidentally overheard my parents’ cruel conversation:
“Increase the blood draw even more. It doesn’t matter if she dies—she was only picked up to save Ying Ying. As long as she has a breath left, she owes it to us.”
At that moment, I finally understood: I was never sick at all.
The decade of daily treatments were nothing but a way to use me to extend the life of their biological daughter.

Everyone said I’d traded five years of my youth and my unwavering devotion for an engagement that every woman envied.
My fiancé, Felix Smith, seemed to believe it, too. He gave me pearls, promised me a bright future, and wrapped me up in a web of tenderness, layer after layer.
Until that afternoon, when he held me close, yet used a language he thought I didn’t understand to weave the perfect "wedding" con over the phone.
That was the moment I finally realized: over these five years, who had he really been looking at through me? And every pearl he ever gave me, whose tastes was he remembering?
When the elevator failed and darkness crashed down, the person he protected on instinct wasn’t me.
When the wind howled across the empty outskirts, the person he chose to abandon was me.
I’d been learning how to love him, how to become a proper bride. In the end, what I learned was how to exit quietly, out of his world with Serena.
Only when I slipped off that pearl ring did I understand—
Some love stories, from the very beginning, are nothing but long letters written to someone else.

My wife, the most ruthless godmother in New York's underworld, wants a divorce.
The reason? Her male subordinate's old wound has flared up, and he only has three months to live. She wants to accompany him on his final journey as his wife.
To make room for her new lover, she not only doesn't go home, but even allows him to frame me for a fabricated death sentence.
In the dimly lit underground interrogation room, the backlash from deviating from the proper procedures caused my organs to rapidly fail, and I developed a persistent high fever.
Through the iron bars, she looked at my disfigured body, not recognizing me, but coldly raising her gun and giving the order to execute me herself.
She proudly believed that by clearing the way, she could go back and have a grand wedding with the man who was feigning illness.
Until the last shot, when my breathing stopped completely, she saw the old scar on the back of my left hand—the scar from the severed finger I had left for her.
That once arrogant godmother instantly broke down in tears beside my corpse.

Lina Maria is a beautiful woman, born with elegant and distinctive features. There were countless of men chasing her, but she has never accepted any one of them. She will always remember the promise that her first love made to her in high school, “Wait for me, you will be the only girl that I will marry!”

Six years later, she was forced to marry the cold and ruthless billionaire president of DT Holdings, Lucas Lopez. “Since she wants to play with me, I will play with her till the end. I will make sure that she will heavily regret her decision to marry me for the rest of her life!”

"Leave this country and don't ever come back!" Being the sole survivor of her family's tragic car accident, a mysterious man gave Stephanie Ruan a chance to flee for her life.

Eight years later, Stephanie Ruan returned to the country as the director of an internationally renowned publishing firm. Upon knowing that her family's car accident is related to the prestigious Zhong Family, her best bet is to get close to Javier Zhong to find out the truth and avenge her family members.

"I want to be your fiancé." With her new identity and strong character, she fearlessly plotted against the most powerful and ruthless man in the country, Javier Zhong. Unlike other women whose biggest dream is to marry him, Stephanie Ruan spat out those words with much unwillingness. Of course, to scheme against such a dangerous man, there would be risks and sacrifices involved. She could either be killed by him or... unexpectedly fall deeply in love with him?

Whichever the result is, Stephanie Ruan knows that once she enters this game, there is no turning back!

Twenty-year-old rising TV reporter Alisha Murphy seems to have it all—beauty, brains, a perfect career, and an attractive boyfriend. But her latest assignment takes a dark turn when she investigates the chilling disappearances of eleven young women, all with the same initials: A.M.

As she follows the clues, she uncovers a terrifying pattern that leads back to one place—her boyfriend’s bar. What Alisha finds hidden beneath the floorboards is a nightmare beyond imagination. Now, she’s the final piece in a twisted ritual, and the only way to survive is to play along... until she can strike.

“Shanella! Get up, prepare, now! You must marry Alpha Terence!”
Alpha Ethan slapped me across the face, his voice sharp and authoritative.

I hated it all. Tears streamed down my face uncontrollably. I knelt before him, sobbing uncontrollably.

“Please, I don’t want to marry Terence. He’s seventy years old, and I’m only eighteen!” But no one cared about my pleas. Alpha Ethan didn’t care, and neither did my father.

On my wedding night, when I faced Terence’s brutal, wicked, and lewd desires, I felt a wave of nausea. So I made a risky decision: I had my maid, Paula, impersonate me, and I ran away!

Terrence was furious, vowing to find me and torture me, while I, disguised as a man, infiltrated the Alpha Training Academy, which only accepted male students.

Here I will learn the most powerful tactics. Evil Terence, if you dare to bother me again, I will personally sever your disgusting head!

Clarisse thought running away would set her free.
Instead, one wolf bite bound her to the most powerful Alpha.
Now the man she once rejected wants to make her his Luna, while deadly enemies will do anything to tear them apart.
Can she escape the Alpha who has already claimed her heart?

I never meant to betray my sister. But from the moment Adrian's dark, smoldering gaze met mine, he became my secret addiction. His touch sets me on fire, his possessiveness borders on obsession. And despite him being my sister's boyfriend, I'm powerless to stop.

Then there's Alexander. The charming guy I met on campus. He's everything Adrian isn't. He's sweet, kind, safe, and he makes no secret of how much he wants me.

With one boy, I'm breaking all the rules. With the other, I'm denying all my desires. But now I'm trapped between one love I can't have and another love I can't resist.