MTL - Global Awakening: Join The Chat Group At The Beginning - Chapter 545 Shivering Limulu, why is this group a bit scary...

A few years after graduating, Chen Hui was mediocre and suddenly found himself back in the scorching summer of 15 years. It seemed that it was not just a simple rebirth, but a plug-in was accidentally attached. Money, beauty, and power followed. Easy cool text! …

- Description from novelbuddy

What happens when a history teacher dies and becomes a prince in another world? Of course, he becomes the greatest emperor!He will use all of his family's resources for his own benefit, conquer the world, and... beautiful women! Ahem. This is a novel full of intrigue where he will get what he wants, build his own empire, and finally protect his loved ones.He is a great leader to those he cares about, but a ruthless tyrant to his enemies. In this world of magic and mystery, he will not stop until he reaches the top.But what will he have to sacrifice for victory?

A next-generation virtual online game, a hardcore gamer, a glitch that shouldn’t have existed… By sheer coincidence, Meng Jingtian ended up being the sole player god in a game. Thus, while ordinary players worked themselves to death running missions for NPCs to win their favor, NPCs prostrated before him! While ordinary players almost vomited blood grinding for gear so that they could solo bosses, the king of divine beasts kneeled before him, willing to offer its life and worship him. And while players went to suicidal lengths to trigger random events and lucky encounters, transcendent beings came to find him so that they could offer their precious treasures as tribute.

[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.