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... g.

Li Gen promptly picked up the young people who went down.

The youth's face was white, the eyebrows were tied together, the eyes were closed, there were tears on the eyelashes, and the lips with blood trembled.

Li Gen thinks of the wildflowers of the wall roots. The red and white are all piled together. They usually open very well. The next frost is dead and very fragile.

He looked at it and was fascinated.

Realizing this, Li Gen stabbed him as if he had some ...

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Mu Sheng transmigrated into a male harem article, and became a member who was about to be included in the harem by the male lead.
In this article, the male protagonist fell off a cliff and met the old man with a white beard, and from then on he began to kill the Quartet and dominate the road. Of course, there are beauties everywhere you go.
The master of Taiyi sect, the young master of Tianji sect, the princess of the demon clan, the empress of the demon clan… any one of her identities is more prominent than her, the little junior sister of the outer sect.
Mu Sheng didn’t have any ambition to save the heroine, after knowing the bad news, Mu Sheng just wanted to run away overnight.
Later, the disciples of the Tianyan Sect found out that the junior sister from the outer sect who loved to practice swords the most no longer practiced swords, and volunteered to take care of Lingtian.

The lost ancient spiritual plants and the hard-to-serve high-level elixir filled the spiritual field in a mess.
Mu Sheng originally thought that he could avoid the plot in this way, and be her salty fish with peace of mind, but he didn’t expect that he could make a name for himself by farming any land.

Zhuang Yuyanxiang, the suzerain of Taiyi sect, has a car and a BMW, and his aura is obvious.
——”Give me Lingjiang Grass, and I will accept you as a personal disciple.”
Mu Sheng: “It’s good to be alone.”
Xia Yingying, the princess of the demon clan, stepped on the demon dragon, pampering and unrestrained.
—— “Please get out of here.”
Mu Sheng: “Okay, I will pay the travel expenses.”
Ye Xingyao, the young master of Tianjimen, was in a state of desperation, his white clothes stained with blood.
——”You save my life, and I will make a divination table for you and calculate the secrets of heaven.”
Mu Sheng: “I’m an atheist, I don’t believe in fate.”

She really just wants to be a salted fish, grow crops, make alchemy, and raise furry. She doesn’t want to face all the heroines!

Content tags: Xianxia Cultivation Wearing Books Upgrade Flow
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Euri was quite passionate about wanting to become a perfect corporate slave.But after being forced to explore the sentient game infesting his miniscreen, Euri realized that he had stumbled upon an opportunity anyone on the planet would kill for. While the entire human civilization on Planet Nen struggled to deal with the superior lifeforms plaguing the extraterrestrial planes beyond their world, Euri could compete with them all for power by just playing this game!A side-gig that didn’t conflict with his dream of climbing the corporate ladder—how generous can fortune be to bequeath this opportunity to him.Transcending the spatial laws, transcending human notion of cultivation, transcending the rules of Cosmic Development Bureau, Euri began a series of crazy experiments that could perhaps destroy the millennia-spanning schemes of the most advanced civilizations controlling the macrocosm.When interrogated about this fiasco, Euri answered the way a perfect corporate slave should. “Full credit for this goes to my boss, who provided me with the opportunity...”

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A long, long time later, Ji Yu said——

“This world is frantic and absurd. Malicious people die an ugly death, and the merciless people are sought after. I was never reluctant to leave until I met you.”

There are thousands of people in the world, and thousands of beauties, yet it is only you who can disturb my heart.

Are you ready to fall in love with the smartest and most cold-hearted people in the world?

The calm and cool-headed princess of a vanquished nation x the ruthless and revengeful number one lobbyist.

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“Coming live to you, from Cerou Street, this is MBP News, and we have an unfolding situation to report. Late last night, at approximately 3:00 AM, an explosive-like sound reverberated through this area, disrupting the sleep of residents and instilling fear in their hearts,” the news anchor, a striking figure, delivered the report with poise, standing before the camera amidst a bustling scene.

In the background, the blaring horns of ambulances and police vehicles disturbed the serenity of the beautiful morning light. Two individuals wearing protective suits, presumably forensic experts, held a stretcher carrying a charred body.

The news anchor, who had been reporting earlier, placed a hand on her ear, fitted with an earpiece, and looked visibly surprised. Her voice filled with urgency as she continued, “We have just received an update from our headquarters regarding the sole fatality in this unexpected incident. The victim of this tragic event is none other than Norman, the famous gigolo of Night palace.”

“My colleague, who was set to cover an event today at Nightplace, obtained this information firsthand from Countess Maria, who held a special place for Norman in her heart. Our focus this morning is on this breaking news,” the female news reporter continued amidst the chaotic scene, while Norman's charred body lay alone in the ambulance.

Meanwhile, in a different world, a young boy lay fast asleep with his head on the table. The sun, seemingly displeased with the boy's carefree slumber, cast its rays directly onto his face. Annoyed by the intrusion, the boy shifted his head in another direction, unwilling to be roused from his deep sleep.

*ZZZr Zzrz Zzrzzr* However, an additional source disturbed his sleep, filling the room with a buzzing sound. The boy furrowed his brows in annoyance, his eyes still closed. He searched his surroundings and discovered a glass-like slab. With closed eyes, he slid his finger across it and placed it near his ear.

“Hello...” he mumbled in his drowsy voice, which carried a hint of depth.

“Hey, Pissed-up Prat, where are you?” a voice laced with disdain emanated from the slab.

The boy, referred to as the “Pissed-up Prat” by the irritating female voice, recognized it as a voice he heard frequently but couldn't recall its owner. With his eyes still closed, he inquired, “Who is this?”

“What do you mean, 'who is this'? Wake up, come home, or eat shit for breakfast if you prefer!” the voice behind the transparent slab retorted before falling silent.

The boy, still not fully awakened, gazed at the half-opened glass slab with a mixture of confusion and surprise. As his eyes darted around the room, he became increasingly shocked.

As he recollected the fragmented memories from the night before he lost consciousness, his gaze fell upon the entrance of the shop. Once old and damp, it now bore a different appearance. While not transformed into a luxurious space, it had undergone improvements compared to its previously dilapidated state.

The shop took on a rectangular shape, with one longer side adorned with wooden shelves intricately patterned. Rows of empty glass jars lined these shelves. On the opposite side, there was another wooden shelf, also displaying empty jars. Towards the beginning of the counter, where the boy had been sleeping, there stood a peculiar machine.

Confusion etched across his face, he murmured to himself, “Whose shop is this?”

In response to his question, a mechanical voice resonated in his mind.

[The Omnistore belongs to you, host.]

……………………………………………………………

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