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... then got up and moved to drag her friend out of the shop.


Mo Jiangye grabbed hold of his wife’s hand at once. “What are you doing?”


“You want to hear about women’s affairs?”


“Go on.” He was all ears.


“I’ll be right back.” Ye Erruo pried his hand away.


Outside the roast duck store…


“What’s the matter?” she asked in puzzlement.


“Xiao Ruo, we’re besties, aren’t we? Surely, you wouldn’t mind if I earned some pocket change with yo ...

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“The simplification of the extreme mountain breathing method… the simplification is successful… the extreme mountain breathing method → ​​breathing!”

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“Nine Heavens cast down the Undying Tree, from the tomb the Immortal's bones were fetched;Taoist Venerable tut-tutted as they drank blood plasma, Old Buddha relished in the chew of meat;Beasts and livestock rang the Dharma Drum, city foxes and hole-dwelling rats boiled in the pot;In the Immortality Wine, the resentful spirits were fishy, at the Killing Banquet, the Dao Fruit was bitter!”In this world where Daoist Skill manifested, countless Sect Cultivators, Side Door Magicians, princes and scholars, officials of high rank and nobles all coveted immortality!Owl God Tomb, stealing heavenly secrets, Pearl Gathering Skill, Holy Infant Pill, bone effigies, Yin God Shrine, human-transformed monsters, Undying Elixir, Red Line Poison, Blood Immortal insects, Mermaid Meat, gold-threaded robes, Five Poisons Primordial Spirit, Seven Star Life Extension...They killed and harmed life only to steal the “Killing Dao Fruit” borne upon that Undying Tree!Until... a sly “Fishing Man” came to this world.Wang Yuan, born with the Small Book of Life and Death, had but a simple and unadorned dream:Amid bustling strings and smoky vistas, on a night bathed in moonlight, in peace and quiet did I lean on the rail, savoring the wind, toasting to the stars.With his “Bride in bridal clothes,” watching the sunrise at Taishan in the morning, admiring Qionghua in Luoyang at noon, and drinking under the aurora by the North Sea in the evening.“But you all smell so incredibly fragrant!No more, none shall escape, for today I shall crowdfund Cultivating Immortality! Please... my treasure, turn around!”The blood-red veil of the Bride abruptly fluttered to the ground.

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“Y-young master, the Lord is requesting your presence.”

I looked at myself in the mirror as a maid's voice, laced with trepidation, reached my ears.

“Tell him I'll be there shortly.”

“I understand, y-young master.”

I paid no mind to her quivering presence, my gaze fixed on my reflection.

And this is exactly why I despise this character, Yes, He is a villain with my name but does it matter, no, the problem is this guy's weight he is so heavy that this tub of lard is weighing me down, literally.

For someone who prides themselves on muscle, nothing's worse than “fat,” and this guy before me? Well, he's a prime example of that.

“I suppose I need a workout.”

Reaching the door, exhaustion gripped me and I found myself gasping for breath. It was unbelievable – this body was so darn heavy.

After an arduous struggle, I finally made my way out of the room, causing servants carrying a litter¹ to scurry over. They lowered it, creating a path for me to step onto it.

I tried to ignore the spectacle – it was this pampering that turned this fatty into a giant tire. Pushing the annoyance aside, I began to move, managing only about 10 steps before my legs gave out.

Damn it. Seriously? I collapsed, leaving the twenty servants to hastily lift me and place me onto the litter. For me, it felt more like a stretcher. There I was, sprawled on it like some mountain, panting heavily.

“You damn god! I hope the protagonist of your favorite novel gets NTRed!”

“We're here, young master.”

Can you believe it? his father's office is just thirty steps away from this pumpkin room, yet he insists on using a litter.

“Give me a hand.”

I ordered while cursing this hefty body under my breath.

“Oh, come, come, my dear child. How was your day?”

I glanced at the middle-aged man, his face exuding warmth and care.

As for my feelings? This old man right here is the reason this chubby exists. Not that I give a darn about my indulgent father.

“I'm alright, Dad.”

Yes, imagine this: as a noble, this old man spoiled this pumpkin so much that he thinks he can go around scolding the mansion's maids and servants.

“Take a seat. Hey, fetch his chair!”

You might wonder why he doesn't sit on a regular chair. Well, that's because the chair is custom-made to accommodate this hippo-sized frame.

“What's going on, Dad?”

Seriously, why would he summon this big old hippo over to his quarters? There's gotta be a reason for it....

“Your fiancee is coming tomorrow”

……………………………………………………………

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