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... the cauldron with a tap of my fingers was worth the half dozen points of mana I spent.

The tents werent the sort of tents I was used to. In fact, there were little more than canvas sheets with a few holes here and there that had flaps covering them. Ropes strung out between the nearest trees held them up, and little ties on the canvas allowed parts of it to be folded in to form walls around three sides.

It would keep the rain off, if it rained, and the wind too, but that was abou ...

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Jiang Feng considered himself just an ordinary delivery guy.Until one day, a young man suddenly appeared, carefully grabbing his hand and saying, “Judge, Judge, I am the King of Hell.”“…” Jiang Feng replied, “King of Hell, King of Hell, I am also the King of Hell.”The King of Hell turned around, tearfully addressing the Black and White Impermanence, “I knew it, he’s been wanting to usurp my position for a long time!”—-“Those people all say that Heaven has the virtue of cherishing life, and tell me not to dwell on it anymore. Is it true that after people die, they don’t even have the right to appeal for justice?”“They look at life and death, I only judge right and wrong.”“Who are you?”—”The Judge.”

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MTL - The Poor Monk Cultivates a WayChapter 481 The ghost king fell into the ice
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Gong Shangjiao Zhengyu, five tones and six rhythms come into the sword.

A liberal arts student crossed over with a pile of Buddhist scriptures and Taoist scriptures,

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“Why don’t you turn left when you go out, there is a school of sword practice over there.”

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