Heavenly Dao Rankings: I Am Exposed As The Sword God - Chapter 163 - Everyone Becomes Immortal

New book 'Guarding the National Master' is being serialized. Ning Xiaoxian's comic, TV drama, and game adaptations are in progress, please look forward to it.Heavenly Dao: Shaking Heaven God is trapped in the God Demon Prison, go and rescue him.Ning Xiaoxian: Alright, I will rescue him!=====Heavenly Dao: An unparalleled demon is wreaking havoc in the Mortal World, go and cure him.Ning Xiaoxian: Alright, I will cure him!=====Heavenly Dao: Barbarians are returning to the Southern Continent, intending to replace me, go and eliminate them…Ning Xiaoxian remains silent.Heavenly Dao (breathes a sigh of relief): “What do you want?”Ning Xiaoxian: “What I want is...”

One day, when a novelist woke up from a restless sleep,he realized that he had transformed into his 12-year-old self.

Yu Dong , a cultivator from the zombie apocalypse transmigrated over to another world after she died fighting a mob of zombies

- the moment she opened her eyes , someone told her that her wife was giving birth

- Yu Dong was stunned , she hurriedly reached to touch her chest , to check whether or not she was still a woman

- the two perky mounds told her she was

- instantly she looked at her bottom , she wanted to check whether or not she was a ‘ real woman ,’ but before she could

- she was hauled to where her wife was giving birth

- and what she saw made her want to pass out again -

Because her wife was a man ! And she didn’t have just one wife but three !

Yu Dong looked at the man who was groaning on the bed and nearly blacked out- whatever at least she didn’t have to chop zombies for living , right ?

[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.