24 Hearts - Chapter 47

Ronan was just another overworked office drone until a sudden death transported him to a vast, unfamiliar fantasy world—alone, invincible, and armed with absurdly powerful abilities from a game he once played. But reality isn't as simple as a game, and after days of wandering the unending Nim Forest without finding civilization, his optimism begins to fade.Just as isolation threatens to wear him down, he encounters Frieren, a quiet elf girl hiding in the bushes. Their meeting marks the first step on a path neither of them fully understands, in a world that seems empty, yet full of mystery.

I found myself possessing the body of a young master who everyone was eager to kill. I’m invincible, so let them try to kill me. It’s only for one second, though.

Ren Zhouyuan, who loves to study Chinese culture since childhood, has never imagined that his own life would one day be subverted by a foreigner.

Not only do these foreign devils not love the Chinese, but they also scoff at him, looking at his eyes like watching a fool.

After getting drunk, Ren Zhouyuan is for no reason pregnant with a ball, and actually gave birth to a child as a man. This kid is blonde; almost do not have to verify who he is from the “handwriting.”

Ren Zhouyuan does not want to make that arrogant foreigner part of his life, but after fate tied them tightly together again, he found that there was a big difference between this man and the arrogant fighting nationality he imagined.

Leonid: Honey, what does ” Jijiwai Wai*” mean?
Ren Zhouyuan: Refers to people like you
Leonid: But I’m not chirping ah …

- Description from Novelupdates

[Longevity + Discipleship + No Female Lead + Lighthearted Humor with No Tragic Moments]When his master picks food, he spins the table there;When his master chants spells, he chats without a care;When his master takes rest, he sings a lively song;When his master lies late, he bangs the pot along;His master lives on long, but his life is rather short;His master lays him down on the hillside, as a sort;His master lifts a cup, but he won’t take a drink;His master shares a tale, but he won’t stop to think;His master holds a feast, but he leaves the table wide;His master calls his soul, but he’s nowhere to abide.Spring returns to the hills, with blooms so bright and fair,Yet master and disciple are parted, one in heaven, one elsewhere.