MTL - The Cry of the Phoenix Which Reached the Ninth Heaven - Chapter 8 Wind and dust

(Immortal Cultivation+Meeting a Perfect Match+Shura Field+Invincible Flow+Upgrade Flow+Playing the Pig and Eating the Tiger)—What is cultivation? When I think back to the past, cultivation was, as a baby, kicking my legs over and over again—kicking on the bed, kicking on the ground, kicking every single day. Cultivation was, as I grew older, swinging my sword again and again—slashing here, cutting there. Cultivation became, as I matured, the repeated harmony of yin and yang—busy tonight, and busy again tomorrow night. … My name is Xu Ming. I have never cared about the stipends given to me by those sect masters, noble ladies, or princesses.I said to her, “Can you give me a room closer to yours? I need to report my work to you at any moment.” Even if I accomplish nothing every day, I just want to watch how she cultivates. I…

When Lu Jingyan first met Sheng Xian, a thought popped into his head: he wanted to see this man cry.Latter, Lu Jingyan cried....Lu Jingyan first met Sheng Xian in a bar, her phone had no signal, so she asked him to lend her his internet, asking him what the hotspot Wi-Fi was?He said, “Your birthday.”Lu Jingyan didn't have time to enter the password before her friends called her away.She thought that Sheng Xian using her birthday as the password meant he must like her, though he was a bit introverted. She flirted with Sheng Xian overtly and covertly for half a year before she discovered that Sheng Xian's Wi-Fi password was: nishengri...Gorgeous young heiress X youngest professor of Law SchoolSweet text.1V1.

A second or third story of a great power who has no choice but to go to a high-level small world to cultivate immortals! !

In men’s clothing, she attracts people, but she is helpless and emotionally flirtatious. Faced with the hints and expresses of many beauties in the cultivation world, she doesn’t understand, so a misunderstanding suddenly arises, and she is added to the list of the most handsome young men in the cultivation world.

Harmless, cheerful, with a male protagonist, women disguised as men, strong women and strong men

Welcome to the newly opened female disguised as a man’s work “This Daoist is too serious”

- Description from novelbuddy

Three rejections. Three shattered dreams. That was Layla’s reality, all because she was different—a half-shifter in a world obsessed with purity. Ostracized, shunned, and finally sold off like a pawn to the most feared ruler alive—the Lycan King. He was ruthless, a king with a graveyard of brides, each one a ghostly reminder of a fate worse than death.Layla loathed him. Hated the way his gaze cold and fathomless, held no warmth for her. Hated how his touch, both thrilling and terrifying, sent an uninvited chill down her spine.---“I hate you!” I screamed, hands clenched so tight my knuckles ached.He sighed, a smirk curling at the edge of his lips, his tone mocking as he closed his book with a deliberate snap. “Stressed, are we?” he asked, strolling toward me, each step reminding me exactly who held the power here.“Lucky for you,” he drawled, rolling up his sleeves as he stopped just inches away, “I know exactly 70 ways to ease those nerves.” His fingers brushed my cheek, a touch that seemed to burn into my skin. “The first… a hug.” His voice dropped to a rough whisper as he leaned in, breath hot against my ear. “And the rest... well, that's 69? what do you say about that?”I swallowed hard, my heart thudding wildly as he tilted his head, waiting for me to react, that insufferable smirk still in place.“What’s the matter, darling?” he murmured, a taunt lingering in his gaze.---A Dangerous ObsessionCan she resist the pull, or will she dance into the flames of her own destruction?A dark dive into obsession, raw need, and the razor’s edge between desire and devastation.---LYCAN KING CASSIANI will tear her apart piece by piece, feeding the wildfire that grips her with each shuddered breath. Like air to flame, I’ll claim every inch, drawing heat from her skin until it sinks into her bones.Her pulse will race under my hands, her breaths shallow, pleading. Her eyes may scream, but her lips will still murmur my name. That first taste of fear will only feed something deeper—a need that burns through her veins, molten and fierce.And just when she’s too far gone to turn back, I’ll twist the knife, giving her the pain she’s learned to crave.She’ll be the moth to my flame, helpless against the very thing that will consume her.