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... Yan Shangling of the Yan family is a waste? This is called waste, so ordinary people like us are even more waste. !"

   "The realm of this swordsmanship is unfathomable. How could this be trash? Who made the rumor? It's all rumors that hurt people. This is not trash at all, it's a genius! This world is really amazing!"

   "Xian Shangling is really heroic and heroic. This sword is really powerful. How can the son who left home not be able to beat a trash? He is a trash. He can't eve ...

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Jiang Chengxuan accidentally transmigrated to the immortal cultivation world and accidentally obtained the immortal cultivation heritage.

However, his qualifications were really low, and after a hundred years of hard work, he was still unable to advance to the Foundation Establishment Realm.

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Detected that the host has achieved 100 years of immortal cultivation, hereby granting a life extension fruit, which can increase the life expectancy by one year.

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Please complete the quest a hundred times. Complete it to achieve the honor of completing the quest a hundred times and you can get a chance to complete the quest smoothly.

Ding!

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Please complete 100 times of talisman-making achievements…

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Please complete 100 times of alchemy achievement…

Please complete 100 times of poisoning achievement…

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“You…” She stepped back. Then back again, her mouth dropped open. “You… You cannot be…”

“I am,” Etan said, and his hair raked back as he pushed his mask off his handsome face. So handsome her heart raced.

His hair was ebony black, his skin a warm brown that threatened to fade in in the winter months. He stared at her with glittering green eyes, over high cheekbones and a noble nose, his jaw tight and shadowed this late in the day. His chin was high over the pillar of his neck that she’d just touched with its hard lines and steel strength, so different to her own. And his chest... She gasped and covered her eyes. She’d humiliated herself revealing her stupid, childish curiosity.

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His eyes locked on hers and she couldn’t think. She couldn’t breathe.

She had met her One. And he was the son of her bloodsworn enemy.

She stared at him as he stepped forward again, offering both hands, palm up. “Touch me,” he whispered. “Hold my hands. This is real, Ayleth. I don’t know how it happened, but this is real. Please don’t deny it.”

She couldn’t resist. She raised a trembling hand to his cheek, letting her palm catch on the scruff of his jaw. He blew out a breath and put his hand over hers, and that jolt that happened whenever they touched shivered through her again.

“Please, Ayleth.”

“I cannot deny it,” she whispered.