PREVIEW

... lf of the chicken and almost all of the vegetables.

Touching her stomach, Lin Lei sighed again, "it feels so good to be full! "

Song Yi pushed the door open and came in. When he heard this, he immediately replied, "you are satisfied. I'm still hungry!

I didn't expect you to wake up after I went out for a while?

Wife, do you know how long you slept?"

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When crossing over to multiple books, Ren Shuhan found that every protagonist Shou was waiting for him to start chasing them in the crematorium.

“Don’t waste your time waiting,” He advised sincerely, “There are more 0s than 1s, so I’m not going to chase someone that is not interested.”

The protagonist Shou (sneering): Oh, there will be a day where you’ll lick the ground I walk on.

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Ren Shuhan: “This is the wedding invitation for my childhood friend and I’s wedding.”

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“Don’t you know that life is nothing but a play where you are the male lead and I am just a supporting character?”

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He was smiling, but Jiang Qingyue wept.

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‘He’s so cute I want to kick him flying through the air.’

Bai Yao runs a seafood restaurant in a seaside town. One day, he saw a small sentient sea otter being bullied.

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The sea otter acts quite defensively, baring his teeth, all while still covered in wounds yet to heal.

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Though the sea otter is still quite scaredy and defensive. He wouldn’t let Bai Yao rub his cute little face, or even ruffle his fur.

That’s not all the quirks of the little sea otter either. Bai Yao realised he’s a dummy that didn’t even know how to anthropomorphise.

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He looks, and sees the little sea otter has put his paw in his hand. The sleepyhead is also snuggling on him, his head brushing against his chest.

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[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.