MTL - Film and Television Time Travel From the Courtyard - v6 Chapter 51 conflict two

【Hilarious and Adorable Novel】As a military doctor with expertise in both Chinese and Western medicine, Gu Changsheng felt that this time-traveling journey was ridiculously screwy!Once he traveled back, he was gifted a son, hmm, it felt quite nice.Having a son to rely on in old age, plus owning a steady estate, wealth and glory weren't hard to come by.A lousy father turns over a new leaf? Sorry, mom here isn't fond of revisiting the past!Son, what kind of dad do you want? From the multitude of handsome and wealthy young men out there, let’s pick and choose…This is the story of a bizarrely outstanding female doctor, strutting through ancient times with her child in tow!

Lu Qingshan, a renowned player ranked in the top ten of the Sword Cultivators’ leaderboard in “Nine Heavens,” had been reincarnated into the very game world for which he had always strived. Sword Cultivator, a class in “Nine Heavens,” known for dealing the highest damage but also having the least amount of health, leading to their nickname “Brute.” In this life, Lu Qingshan had still chosen the path of the Sword Cultivator. However, this Sword Cultivator seemed a bit too stable???

This is an era of national miracles and national adventures.

A gray fog swept the world.

Ghosts, ghosts, ancient gods, extraordinary races, etc., are all over the gray fog.

There are dangers and miracles.

Some items and even creatures invaded by the power of gray fog are called miracles.

Some miracle items can generate ore every day, which is inexhaustible.

Some miracle items can make people stronger even if they lie still every day.

And some, it is possible to create extraordinary warriors in batches.

Bai Ye came through, with a golden finger that could see all the prompts, and got a fire source at the beginning…

- 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.