MTL - Urban Carefree Immortal Emperor - Chapter 292 Visit Master Yan

After reincarnating as Zhou Xuanji, the prince of an empire, he thought that he would be able to live a worry-free life of luxury. He did not expect to be involved in a rivalry with the Empress herself, who forced him to escape from the palace.

Qiao Shao, who worked hard to stay up all night and study, was first in class — if you count from the bottom.

He Shen, who was able to get a perfect score even when he slept all day, in a rare display of kindness, bought a bottle of drink to comfort his stupid seatmate.

Then he saw the messages popping up on Qiao Shao’s phone—

Dad: Don’t panic, it’s okay if you didn’t do well in the exam. Dad just ordered a new sports car for you.

Granddad: Grandson, there’s no need to hurry. It’s alright even if you didn’t do well in your exam. Granddad bought a new yacht for you, come and take a break.

Grandpa: Grandson, don’t cry, it’s okay if you didn’t do well in the exam. Grandpa’s billions-worth of properties are all yours.

With a blank expression, He Shen threw his 2.5 Yuan worth bottle of drink into the trash.

Hold your horses! Comfort?

Dirt poor and highly intelligent Gong who left home X underachieving, test-failing, doted on and pampered shou

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The boundless universe is full of many wonders.

I, Chen Ping, only have one sword!

I can move mountains, overturn the seas upside down, suppress demons, slap the face of gods, pluck the stars, break rivers, destroy cities, and… open the heavenly abode!

***

The Midland world was full of wonders.

In the center of the world, there was a scholar who had once used a sword to slash out a waterfall of the Milky Way. This was the person he was the most proud of.

At the edge of East Sea’s cliffs, there was a nameless Daoist who was unwilling to ascend to the peak of a mountain. He only wished for a cool breeze to brush against his face.

In the Western Pure Land, there was an old monk who liked to treat people to chicken soup and tell stories.

In the southern border of the Wilderness, there was a blind painter who controlled golden-armored puppets that were as tall as mountains to move the hundred thousand mountains, creating an embroidered picture.

A impoverished youth who grew up in the north. One day, he saw tens of thousands of Sword Kinesis Immortals above him, like a swarm of locusts crossing the border.

He wanted to see for himself the scholar that the storyteller had mentioned, the surging tides of the East Sea, the vast swamps of sand in the west, and the majestic mountains of the Southern Wasteland.

Thus, one day, the youth picked up the wooden sword and began to descend south.

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