Rebirth in Journey to the West: Sun Wukong - Chapter 694 - 695 The Fall of the Evil Emperor (Second

After quitting the national team, Qi Yue devoted herself to agronomy.

At a certain party, someone was booing, and whoever lost the shooting game would be kissed by Qi Yue.

Looking at Qi Yue, who was planting potatoes with a hoe with a sloppy face and a muddy face, in the experimental field, the big guy’s face turned green.

Everyone scrambled to target the bullseye for fear of being punished.

In the end, Gu Huai, the big male god of A, raised his hand and missed the target and shot a 0 ring.

When they met for the second time, Gu Huai was crushed by malicious provocations in the fencing hall.

Qi Yue couldn’t stand it any longer and was forced to take action.

When we met for the third time, Gu Huai was homeless on the side of the road.

In order to help him, Qi Yue spent three months of living expenses.

After many years.

Qi Yue looked at the world shooting record certificate, fencing championship trophy and dozens of property certificates with Gu Huai’s name written on it, and fell into contemplation: “…”

- Description from novelbuddy

Dual Cultivation is an art. The more you focus on doing the art, the worse it becomes. Only when doing it becomes part of the art itself, does one truly experience it to its fullest.

Ronan was just another overworked office drone until a sudden death transported him to a vast, unfamiliar fantasy world—alone, invincible, and armed with absurdly powerful abilities from a game he once played. But reality isn't as simple as a game, and after days of wandering the unending Nim Forest without finding civilization, his optimism begins to fade.Just as isolation threatens to wear him down, he encounters Frieren, a quiet elf girl hiding in the bushes. Their meeting marks the first step on a path neither of them fully understands, in a world that seems empty, yet full of mystery.

[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.