Demon Slaying, Gaining 60 Years of Cultivation From the Start - Chapter 733 - 523 Da Yuan Country’s Master Bastu Comes Out (Three Changes of Ten Thousand Words, Seeking Subscription!)_1

Rong Xin once traveled and planned for ten years, and finally became the big maid of Miss Di Xin’s trust.
Who knew that the marriage was granted in the palace, and the young lady turned into a queen, or the queen of the young Kangxi
Rong Xin, who was about to breathe a sigh of relief:…
Ma Liu made a new career plan and vowed to be the only female official Fengyi beside the queen!
Since then, the scenery has been in and out, and all directions are pleasing, but also indifferent.
Not wanting that in just nine years, the queen died at an early age, and Rong Xin’s eyes fell on the newly born second son Yinren…
After N years, even the prince will respect her: “Mother Rong.”
Rong Xin: How many times have I reminded it, it’s Aunt Rong, not Mammy Rong (*￣︿￣)

[PS: There is no CP in this article, and it is half overhead. 】

Content tags: Qing Chuan Soul Transformation Gong Dou Female Strong
Search keywords: protagonist: ┃ supporting role: ┃ other:
One sentence introduction: No CP: The first female official of the Qing Palace
Intention: live, go out and not be a dog

- Description from novelbuddy

What is luck? Walk to pick up money? Buying a lottery ticket will win the jackpot?

Qin Yun picked up a copper coin and activated the wealth luck system.

“The balance has reached 10,000, and you can open a first-level fortune-gathering array every month. To open a second-level wealth-gathering array, you need a balance of 1 million…”

(The group has been established, group number: 614799090, interested book friends can join and discuss the plot together.)

- 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.