Rising god - Chapter 100: Just three days

Xu Youyou rebirthed to when she was 16 years old and chose a path different from her previous life and met Qiao Mu ten years earlier. The youth who had braved the wind and snow protecting her till death — and who had confessed to her.

And she realized, the Qiao Mu ten years earlier and the Qiao Mu she knew were completely different people. He didn’t have his smile that could radiate sunlight, he didn’t have his courage that could penetrate snowstorms, and he certainly didn’t have his perfect eight pack. He was like a short mushroom, quietly growing in the corner’s shadow.

Xu Youyou: If you dare be like this when you confess to me, you are so dead.

Qiao Mu was a teenage Weiqi genius, he loved Weiqi, but because of his shadow of youth was unable to enter the competition arena. And because of the fear, he was unable to become a professional player and could only return to a typical school life.

Until he met Xu Youyou.

A widely known reckless and fearless girl, who was the complete opposite of him. She was good at everything, except things relating to love. Clearly he wasn’t her type, yet she always provoked him. But the biggest joke was himself, he clearly knew everything, yet could not help but fall into the hands of the enemy.

- Description from Novelupdates

«Bleh.» — Imp. An Imp, a monster known to kill with a grin, a demon of the world, a creature of incredible might! Something that no force in the world can stand against! At least that’s what the Main Character would like himself to be, the reality is very different, however.

Exactly that Imp stumbles along a path of unfortunate fortunes and grows through it, in a world that hates its very existence.

It grows more intelligent, more powerful, simply better at whatever it needs to do. Amongst other things, that includes raising children, killing Soldiers, and carving wooden figurines for money.

The night before we obtained our marriage certificate, I asked him, “When did you start to develop feelings for me?”

He answered, “I don’t remember.”

“But, why me?”

“Why not you?”

“I’m very petty, and I get jealous very easily.”

“So am I.”

“I’m afraid I’m not worthy of you.”

“So am I.”

“I haven’t really dated, so I don’t know what love is.”

“I don’t know either.”

He held my hand gently, “But I know this. When I think about spending the rest of my life with you, I feel that my future is filled with hope.”

At 16, we used the same class desk, with less than 10cm between our arms. My peripheral vision was full of him.

At 26, I woke up in the morning, and saw the sunlight softly shining on his face. I thought, this is how I want to grow old – gradually, together, with him.

I guess this must be love.

In the rural northeastern mountainous regions stands a tiny Buddhist temple, named One Finger Temple. It isn’t a large one but it is extremely miraculous.

The temple has rice that emanates an aromatic fragrance.

The temple has sweet and refreshing water that rivals ambrosia.

The temple has Buddhas that grant wishes to the sincere.

The temple isn’t large but it has everything. The temple isn’t large but it has flourishing incense offerings that far exceed all temples. The temple isn’t large but it attracts both citizens and foreigners that line up overnight…

The temple has a bald but handsome monk. Every day, he would bawl, “I want to renounce asceticism! I want to marry a chick that’s not too pretty, have a cute baby, and lead a stable life!”