Inheritance of Two Trillion - Chapter 1121 - 1116: I Personally, Forgive You!_2

Fang Xi wore it, and it was the second time!

In the realm of cultivating immortals, I am obedient, but in another world, I strike hard!

Unexpectedly, thousands of years later, he would become a big boss in the world of cultivating immortals!

(Gou Dao Changsheng + Unlimited Stream, produced by Wenchao, a high-quality book, please book friends rest assured to collect and read)

- Description from novelbuddy

System, “You have a sickness. Moreover, you’ll have one in every world.”

Hao Ritian, “…”

System, “What’s wrong? Is there a problem?”

Hao Ritian smiled, “No, there’s no problem. I was just a bit excited.”

System, “…”

That smile intensified the system’s feeling of ominous foreboding. It has had this premonition since it learned the name of its host. Now it only prays that this is all its imagination!

Ps: Protagonist shou 1v1, the gong is always the same person.

- Description from Novelupdates

Once, I really wanted to hang out at Hogwarts, living a life of eating and dying, picking up girls, provoking professors, and violating school rules to find excitement.

If you’re in a bad mood, beat Voldemort; if you’re in a good mood, beat Voldemort; if you’re in a bad mood, sorry, Voldemort, I’ll beat you anyway!

Dumbledore, do you need me to twist your nose back for you, although it will hurt a bit.

Professor Snape, you are a good person, um, I said this very seriously.

Others, don’t mind me summarizing you with an ellipsis?

………………

Later, I grew up…

Then, I can’t find a way back anymore…

I would like to write this article to commemorate me or our lost youth. I think of running under the sunset that day…

Produced by melon seeds, it is absolutely finished!

- 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.