Mr. President Begs for Remarriage After Seeing Our Kids - Chapter 7 - Yan Xi, Remember Your Identity

An Immortal does not differentiate between good and evil, nor do they care about the distinction between black and white. They do not ask what is right or wrong, and consider all living things as dogs. In spite of everything, Immortals pursue the Dao with bitter resolve.

Any being who disturbs my Dao, good or evil, will be forced to meet their karma, reduced to nothing more than ashes.

……………………………………………………………

Dear readers! Without any ads, maybe you will prefer .

Zhou Yu, a reclusive otaku who did not like to go out of his house, was one day forced out of his house by a series of unexpected events.

Blessed by the heavens, Su Yang was born with an extraordinarily handsome appearance that could sway even the coldest beauties and innate sword talents that would make even the Sword Emperor green with envy.Su Yang thought for the longest that he would spend his life swinging a sword, but little did he know that fate had something entirely different in store for him.Instead of swinging a sword, he would be thrusting a different kind of ‘sword’. Rather than perfecting his sword techniques, he would be learning massage techniques.This is a story of how a sword prodigy ended up walking the path of dual cultivation and becoming the most powerful dual cultivator under heaven.--------------Note: This novel is the prequel to Dual Cultivation, but it doesn't require any knowledge from Dual Cultivation to understand so anyone can start reading without worry. Some terms/plots might differ from Dual Cultivation.

The hearse with the weird odor slowed to a stop before the entrance. The sound of pebbles could be heard bouncing on the ceiling. There were footsteps coming from the corridor, and there seemed to be someone sawing next door. The door knob to the room rattled slightly, and the faucet in the bathroom kept dripping even though it had been screwed shut. There was a rubber ball that rolled on its own underneath the bed. Wet footsteps started to surface one after another on the floor. At 3 am, Chen Ge held a cleaver in his hand as he hid beside the room heater. The call he was trying to make was finally answered. “Landlord, is this what you meant by ‘the house can be a little crowded at night’!?”