Harem Streamer System: Every Crime I Broadcast Wins Me a Superheroine - Chapter 195: Uncomfortable Situations

Cultivation is about refining oneself and one's heart.The heavens and earth are the furnace, creation is the work, yin and yang are the carbon, the myriad paths are the copper, and with a steadfast Dao heart, one can refine a Primordial Dao Fruit.Refining pills, refining tools, refining formations, refining talismans, refining swords, refining souls, refining medicine, refining plagues, refining demons, refining devils, refining the heart, refining worlds, refining the Dao...Everything in nature can be refined!This is what Xuan Qing says.If you provoke him, he will even refine the Heavenly Dao to show you!Of course, this all began the day he joined the Jie sect...

Yu Siyang, a 25-years-old chef who just won the International Culinary Gold Award, was smashed by a huge earthen pot, wake up and become a 18-years-old little transparent Yu Siyang in the entertainment circle.

Signed a weird contract and big debts, the chef had to put down the pots and pans and carry his schoolbag to the performance class.

Strive for an achievement as Emperor Film as soon as possible, paying off the debts, and realizing big aspirations to open an ideal restaurant.

But, why the creditor make a very abnormal condition? Waiting online, urgent.

- Description from Novelupdates

When the research and development of various black technologies in the winery fell on Ye Genyi, he said that his position was a bit crooked.

Gin: “icewine…”

“Hey, this is the latest tracking software, it only takes 20 seconds to find the target…”

ps: This book is easy + crime solving + daily type

- Description from novelbuddy

[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.