MTL - My Yellow Hair App - Chapter 225

Luo Hong was standing in front of the mountain gate of Huangfeng Valley. At this moment, he had to admit the fact that he had traveled to “Mortal”.

Pushing the glasses that no longer existed, Luo Hong said categorically, “Like Old Devil Han, I am a fourth-grade pseudo-spiritual root, but I don’t have a vial. It seems that the only way I can go is to cultivate immortals scientifically!”

Why is there a bottleneck every fourth floor during the gas refining period?

How to maximize the chance of building a foundation?

How many factors affect the speed of cultivation?

How fast is Old Devil Han running?

When cultivating immortals in this world is an objective fact, then science is cultivating immortals, and cultivating immortals is science!

Deduction group: 607277622, ​​come and play, Mr. Shitu has already moved in.

- Description from novelbuddy

Sun Wukong awoke to the Advice System at Magic Square Mountain, connecting his consciousness to Zhihu. As long as he took suggestions from netizens, he could obtain various rewards.At first, all he sought was immortality, but once a bunch of savvy netizens started offering a myriad of suggestions, his future began to warp.“I'm Sun Wukong, been at Magic Square Mountain for seven years, and the ancestral master still won't teach me the path to immortality—what should I do?”“I’m Qin Shi Huang himself. Hurry up and wire me some money.”“Thanks for the invite; I'm in the States, just got off the plane. I suggest you definitely learn all the Heavenly Guards and Earthly Fiends!”

Wang Jin found a beautiful drunk mixed-race boy on the side of the road. He looked pretty at night and couldn’t help bringing him home and sleeping with him. When he woke up the next day, he found out that the beauty was a minor.

This is the story of two people who met by chance, their lives turning from narcissism and selfishness to falling in love with each other’s trivialities.

- Description from Novelupdates

In a world of shallow-minded, materialistic mortals, what would one from humble beginnings – whose face had been stomped on, spat on, oppressed for the longest while by the arrogant, pampered upper echelons of society – do, when a mysterious application pops up on a brand new phone that was meant to be the birthday gift of an ungrateful girlfriend? What if the application takes the form of a chatroom where its occupants, bearing the names of mythical, fictional beings, start giving out ‘Red Packets’, all the while spouting nonsense?