MTL - I, Xingyue, a Manga Artist! - v2 Chapter 1212 cooperate

As the final dragon lay defeated, Aaran stared at the sky while the rest celebrated.[Awaiting the gods’ response...]He clenched his fists, his heart pounding. A shred of hope flickered in his eyes, only to be extinguished like always.[The attained outcome was deemed unsatisfactory.]Aaran had seen the message for the twentieth time. He had become the gods’ plaything in their desire to witness the “perfect ending”.He regressed once again, but this time as a toddler and charm being the only stat he had.But something was amiss. The world he remembered had changed. Powers that did not exist before had taken hold of the world.Tired of following the traditional route, Aaran chose to fight darkness with darkness… as the gods’ chosen necromancer!

Once an unsung slave; Yur’s existence was defined by blood, pain, and chains. That was until he stumbled into Zulmasharr, the realm of demons.In the depths of despair and agony, a near-death encounter unsealed the terrifying truth of his existence; he is no mere mortal. A cursed hybrid of human and demon; Yur’s survival was only possible through the bloody rebirth of his Ashkavaal bloodline and the awakening of his sinister cultivation system, Zul.With Zul, Yur can rear demons for rituals, harvest their power, and dominate the chaotic world around him. But freedom comes at a cost. As the incognizant successor to an ancient being, his every step is burdened by the weight of a destiny he never asked for. Yur craves only one thing: to stay free, unbound by demons and men. Yet his growing power and severed bloodline ignite the fascination of forces that would see him enslaved or slaughtered.Yur must steer through a world of demons where trust is a fault, survival is animus, and his very existence is a blemish. Blood will pour, flames will revolt, and demons... they kneel or die. But in the end, is freedom attainable for the bearer of a bloodline forged from blood and ash?Will Yur vanquish his fate or will it condemn him?

[Warning: Mature Content]

“Master, are we going to keep what happened last night a secret between us?”

“For how loud you moaned and cried, Qing-er, I think the whole world has already learned all about it, and your concern is irrelevant.”

Yun Qing-er, the only disciple of the legendary immortal swordmaster Bai Ye, has been hiding her feelings for her master for years. Unaccepted by norms and morals, it is the darkest secret that she swears to bury deep within her heart.

But life has other plans. Bai Ye's desire for her burns hot beneath his solemn appearance. He will teach her not only the art of the sword, but also the pleasures of life that she never knew existed before.

----------------

Smut starts at Chapter 17, with a teaser in Chapter 11. A bit softcore at first but will get wilder quickly as the story moves on :)

Note that this is NOT a typical cultivation romance. Immortals and spiritual power and whatnot are all plot devices… You'll see what I mean in just a few chapters!

----------------

[Sneak Peek]

He pinned me against the poplar tree at the center of the garden. A breeze rustled past, stirring the sunlight sparkling through the autumn foliage above us, and a sprinkle of gold fell over his shoulders. “Say you want me,” he whispered.

“Bai Ye—” I breathed, but the rest of my words were replaced by moans the moment he traced his kisses along my neck and took my earlobe into his mouth.

Familiar tingles roared through me as he nibbled and suckled gently. His hand slid up my chest, and he played with my sensations with his lips and tongue and fingers until my arms trembled around him. All other thoughts vanished from my mind. The only thing I knew was the irresistible feeling of him on me, so overwhelming that my knees started growing weak. I would've fallen if he wasn't pinning me hard against the tree.

“Bai Ye …” I moaned again, clawing at his clothes. “Of course I want you … Right here, right now.”

He let out a soft puff of laughter, and his hand grazed down, gripping the folds of my dress. With a rip of fabric, he tore them away.

Different Hollywood, different life, there are only wonderful works, telling a new legend.

- Description from novelbuddy