Daily life of a cultivation judge - Chapter 617 Rebirth

I found myself lost in a different world, the characters I once read about in web novels were in front of me, harassing me, ruining my damn day. Also, a shitty system that asks you to do strange quests. But you know, the only good thing about all this: I have a beautiful face, it's nice to look in the mirror... ha, ha... I'm going crazy! How the hell am I going to survive in this damn world?tring![System Notification]- [Mission]*Participate in the NOVA Academy entrance exam[Compensation: ??][Failure: System loss]

Shen Long held a Myriad Beasts Tower, and the Spirit Beasts he reared became increasingly formidable—The Fire Rock Beast transformed into the Fire QilinThe Gold-Winged Windroc into the Thunder RocThe Green-Eyed Spirit Fox into the Nine-Tailed Spirit Fox…Years later.Do you know what Immortal Venerable of the Beast Race is?!

“When everyone scorned me because I was merely a woman, I kept convincing myself: ‘Actually, you can give it a try.’” – Fang Feng Sheng

…

There was a famous saying in officialdom: there is no yamen without Shaoxing.

She was the only descendant of the Fang family, the most prominent family of private advisors in Shaoxing.

A calamity broke the Fang family apart. Her father was implicated and put to death, and she cut her way through thistles and thorns to prove her name.

However, walking down this path, she discovered that there were things beyond her imagination.

~ ~

Zong Yue knows that he could marry Fang Feng Sheng because he had blocked all her paths of retreat. But it doesn’t matter—one day, the person will become his, and so will her heart.

- Description from Novelupdates

[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.