Blessed by Night - Chapter 35: First Gate Cleared!

The Heavenly Dao is fickle. A phrase that he had heard all through his life. Only after that incident did Adrian truly understand the meaning behind those words.From someone who had it all, wealth, power, prestige, to one without anything. Heck, even his fiancée abandoned him.One of the Twelve Great Houses on the Floating Cloud Continent, the House of Thorne was reduced to a pile of rubble and dead bodies after a mysterious attack by the Demonic Faction.All that remained was a blood-soaked pendant and a broken future.That is, until his blood awakens the pendant, unleashing a dazzling light. When he regains consciousness, his pursuers are gone, but so is the life he once knew.Now with only his younger brother and a loyal servant girl, Adrian sets out into the night.Armed with only the mysterious pendant and the inheritance it contains, he must walk the path of cultivation.Can he rebuild the House of Thorne from the ashes? Will he uncover the traitor who aided the demonic faction?He won't stop until even the heavens know his name and fear it.

The mastermind leads and controls everything from behind the scenes.“Buy up all the food supplies entering Milan. Let’s starve them to death.”Cutting off the enemy army’s logistics is fundamental.“Give some money to that family and have them betray properly.”I scatter the enemy even before the war begins.I am the Black Merchant in Another World.

Mu Yang was born again in 2008, in his prime, with a beautiful girlfriend on the left and a reading system on the right.

At LV1, for every 1000 words read, +1 yuan, +1 skill experience;

……

Mu Yang is helpless: I really don’t blame me, I just want to read quietly.

Single girl, focusing on physical industry, nostalgic writing, relaxing, making up for regrets, starting with this book.

- Description from novelbuddy

[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.