Hundreds of Assassination Attempts on the Immortal Venerable [Transmigration Book]
行刺仙尊几百次[穿书]
Status: Completed Native Language: Chinese
Did the assassination succeed? No, the assassin became the Immortal Lord's spouse.
As the top assassin of the Shadow Clan in the Demon Realm, Gu Changhuai's very first mission right out of the gate was to assassinate the leader of the righteous path.
—The renowned Qing Lian Immortal Lord, Rong Ye, whose single sword revealed the might of qiankun and whose fame shook the world, admired by countless people.
But Gu Changhuai was a transmigrator, so he knew full well that Qing Lian Immortal Lord Rong Ye was the greatest golden finger for the male protagonist in this novel called *Breaking Heaven*.
"..."
"!!!"
"???"
Gu Changhuai hesitated, Gu Changhuai panicked, Gu Changhuai wavered.
Just him? Alone?
To kill the male lead's golden finger?
Haha, what a joke, folks.
But this mission meant death at the Demon Venerable's hands if he refused, or death at Qing Lian Immortal Lord's hands if he went. Caught between a rock and a hard place with no escape, after much deliberation, Gu Changhuai steeled himself and went for it.
...
Assassinating the leader of the righteous path, the male lead's golden finger, and the world's greatest sword cultivator was a long and arduous task.
First, he infiltrated the Xinnan Immortal Sect, conducting backstabs here and there while periodically sending the Demon Venerable assassination logs to prove he was diligently on the job.
The only weird thing was...
Why did he inexplicably end up lying on the same couch as Rong Ye in the middle of an assassination attempt?
The arm wrapped around his waist seemed to be pushing things in an unpredictable direction... Something was off.
Behind Gu Changhuai's line of sight, Rong Ye—who should have been fast asleep—suddenly opened his eyes, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips.
He hooked a strand of Gu Changhuai's inky hair around his finger, his dark gaze weaving threads like silken lines that silently cast a vast net in this tiny space.
Trapping the foolish moth that had flown straight into it.
The air seemed to fill with a strange madness and invasiveness, cool breaths sprinkling lightly on the nape of his neck, sending shivers down his spine.
Sensing the anomaly, Gu Changhuai shifted uneasily.
In an instant, Rong Ye's arm tightened in the crook of his elbow, pulling the person in his embrace closer, locking him firmly in place.
The two men's dark hair draped and intertwined on the couch in an unusually intimate tangle—
Now that he had come, there was no leaving.
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