MTL - Afraid of My Death, My Frog Stole To the Shelter Overnight - Chapter 315

Welcome Zhang Yu to the art life section of Yangtai. I am the host army!
     The literary world calls your work the peak of God.
     The comic world calls your work insurmountable.
     The music industry calls your work the limit of art.
     The film industry calls your work a box office myth.
     Of course, these are not what I want to ask.
     I want to ask…
     What is it for the sports world?

- Description from uukanshu

Years ago when she was only a young girl, Rose ran away with her two friends Alexander and Mathias, just when they were about to be branded as slaves and sold to work in a brothel. Misfortunate fell on the group as Mathias became stuck and to save them, Rose sacrificed herself to distract the brothel owner’s son Graham who hunted them.Rose made her friends promise that in exchange for her sacrifice, they would return to free her. As the years passed and Rose reunited with her friends, she learned that all promises would not be kept.Stuck in a brothel with a man who wishes to turn her into his woman, Rose starts an unexpected relationship with Zayne Hamilton, a general of another kingdom. Zayne offers to buy her from Graham and opens the way for her sacrifice to not be forgotten.

A mortal teenager strayed into the immortal way because of an accident, struggling on the road of seeking immortality.

Immortal Road is difficult to climb to the sky, in the face of numerous obstacles, his desire to seek the truth is still unabated.

Looking back again, the green mountains are still there, so the old is boneless.

- 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.