MTL - Age of Mysticism - Chapter 442 alienate

Before her reincarnation, Jiang Nanfei, after marrying Huo Beijiang, led a troubled life which included the tragic death of her younger brother, the early loss of her parents, and betrayal from those she trusted the most. After being reborn, she thanked heaven and earth, shamelessly tried to get close to him, stick with him, make him hers.In this life, she wants to clean the dust off her heart and through her own efforts, achieve the life she desires. The beauty of life is not only about the scum man in front of her, or the pure lotus far away, it is also about the family behind her, the friends around her, and the man who loves her dearly.

This is a strange world where everyone can build Dream Dungeons. Qiu Ren also becomes one of the many Dream Makers. So, welcome to the dream I built.

America, 1980. No sooner had Xu Yi transmigrated than he was put on the dissection table; then he gradually came to understand the true nature of this world. “Studying medicine can’t exorcise undead demons; I must become an exorcist!” he resolved silently to himself. On a misty, rain-soaked night. “Miss Evil Spirit over there, the night is cold and damp; be careful not to catch a chill! Come over here and warm yourself by the fire!” Xu Yi said, holding a lighter, as the pale gold flame slowly approached the other. The Evil Spirit shrank back, looking at Xu Yi with fear. “Don’t be afraid, I just want to warm you up...” Xu Yi’s face broke into a warm smile, “by setting you on fire!” Ding dong! Ding dong! “Sign-in at the Land of Fear successful, Resurrection Coin awarded!” “Synthesis pathway requirements met, do you wish to combine the following entries?” Psychic + Scholar + Painter = Psychic Painter! Saintly Offspring + Gunfight Technique + Revolver Mastery = Holy Gunslinger! Undead + Revelation + Holy Nation = God!

The dojo is located in Yunzhong Mountain, and there are halls and fields.

Sitting under the ginkgo tree in leisure time, looking at the dust and clouds in the distance,

Hoe the ground and listen to the sound of springs, forge swords by the fire,

Food and clothing are up to oneself and God,

I don’t know the end of the cold year;

When the robbery comes, you have to go to the lower reaches of the mountain to watch the bitterness and sweetness of the world.

It’s hard to keep injustice in your eyes, and you don’t like to show it in front of others.

The gourd of wine at the waist is deep, and the light of the sword behind the back is cold,

Not for fame, not for money,

Be a free spirit.

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