MTL - Guardian - Chapter 51 Merit pen

A lonely soul, which was placed under the care of the Lord Protector’s Manor, ended up having her lover stolen by the family’s eldest daughter and dying tragically the day before her wedding.

A Mature Lady: You have a house?

Jiang Xiu: I can cultivate.

A Ms. Perfect: You have a car?

Jiang Xiu: I can cultivate.

A Loli: Big Brother Jiang Xiu, do you have a seven-figure bank balance?

Jiang Xiu: I can cultivate.

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Jiang Xiu once transmigrated to the Immortal Martial Continent, living out a long life there and establishing himself with renowned fame. He finds himself waking up to strange circumstances and discovers that he’s returned back home. What happened exactly? And what’ll he do from now on? Follow Jiang Xiu as he deals with the crazy scenarios fate has in store for him.

- Description from Novelupdates

When Zen was just five, his kingdom fell in flames. His people vanished into dust. His parents - his world - were taken by death. Left behind with nothing but silence, the young prince was forgotten by history. But his story… was only just beginning.He walks alone at first. Weak. Broken. Powerless.But the fire in his heart never died.He seeks strength enough to tear through the heavens, enough to break the chains of fate itself. Not just to see the faces of his lost parents once more… but to take revenge on the ones who destroyed everything.But can strength truly reach beyond death?… or will it only turn him into something worse?This is not just the story of a fallen prince.This is the legend of The One Who Walks Beyond the End.

[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.