All My Disciples Are Kings - Chapter 1393: Substitute (25)

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Form, feeling, thought, and awareness, the four truths and five aggregates refine the truth,

Gong Shangjiao Zhengyu, five tones and six rhythms come into the sword.

A liberal arts student crossed over with a pile of Buddhist scriptures and Taoist scriptures,

“Monster, you are predestined with me, why don’t you follow me back to the cave to practice!”

“Master, can I marry a wife if I practice with you?”

“Why don’t you turn left when you go out, there is a school of sword practice over there.”

There is also an old book “Chunyang Sword Master”, which can also be read step by step.

- Description from novelbuddy

Gong Yu, a three-good student who entered the unknown world for no reason, became a sick and poor little Highness who disguised herself as a man.

In line with the principle of hard work and progress, I work hard to be a two-headed grass and survive in a mixed court.

However, she accidentally picked up the handkerchief of the future queen and sister, and returned it with the good character of picking up gold.

The result was a series of such rumors.

Since the love is compatible, the two are in love, and they are secretly in love, why not choose another day to get married?

Gong Yu herself expressed panic, but the queen sister actually acquiesced.

Content label: A special liking for fate encounters through time and space sweet text
Search keywords: Protagonist: “Gong Yu”, “Dai Ruyan” ┃ Supporting role: “A lot” ┃ Others: “A lot”

- Description from novelbuddy

“Hubby, I don’t want anymore, I feel terrible…” “Baby, be good, finish up this medicine.”

[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.