Journey to the West: Starting from Changing Sun Wukong's fate - Chapter 45 - Is This Monkey No Longer Caring About the Demon King of Chaos

The mid-level boss of my company’s AAA-game.

In the most popular 3D keyboard online game “Tomorrow”, an ordinary player, Zhang Zhiyin has a less common hobby–that is to visit Dr. Y, the ultimate boss – giving him gifts and hugs.

As a game produced NPC, the other side naturally has no response, but Zhang Zhiyin still insisted on visiting him rain or shine for 363 days. Until one day he decided to give up the game, the result was being hit by a car.

Since then, he has been dreaming every night in which he will cross into the realistic world of ‘Tomorrow’ and return to the magical journey of normal life during the day.

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“From the moment he fell in love with this person, he had chosen insanity.”

- Description from Novelupdates

Beatty, a weak squirrel shapeshifter who was born into a lion family. Because of that, I lived my life being ab*sed at my aunt’s house in the Capital. When I told my only friend and fiancé, the Second Prince, that I would leave to achieve my dream, ‘Ritter, you bastard…!’ I died on his fangs. I opened my eyes again to my childhood, the time before I got myself involved with the Second Prince. At times like this, what do you need? Speed. I immediately withdrew my body only and ran away to the territory of my biological father, the Lion Duke. Though I won’t be welcomed, if I possess this one great secret that will only be discovered in the future, I won’t get kicked ou— “Welcome, Young Miss!” “OMG! When did you grow up like this…?” “Young Miss is walking with those two cute feet!” … Huh? Why am I welcomed like this? No way, is that my statue?

[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.