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... n the Upper Realm.

It can be said that the inheritance of Butian Taoism actually originated from one person, that is Meng Tianzheng.

Whether it is the Butian Pavilion of the Nine Heavens and Ten Earths, or the Butian Sect of the Lower Realm.

Hearing that Meng Tian was about to meet them in person, he made them a little nervous for a while.

"I'm so nervous, tell me, how is this great elder's temper, will he reward us with something, suddenly I have little expectations. ...

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MTL - Please Continue Protecting MeChapter 48 [Second more ending]
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A few years ago, the rumored delicate and fragile wheelchair bound beauty of the Rong Family was kidnapped by someone.

While everyone panicked and burned their heads looking for her, only one man was able to find her.

Rong Mo carefully asked the tall and gloomy man before her. “Will…..you continue to protect me?”

The man took one glance at her immobile legs and pale tender face and answered. ”No”

“Then why did you rescue me?”

She waited for a long time before she heard him say lightly. “It was along the way.”

A few years ago, Rong Mo thought this man’s blood must be cold. It was only many years later that he really did become the true sense of the word ‘bodyguard’, and she finally ‘‘experienced’ the warmth and hot blood that his body always had.

Afterwards, Rong Mo sat on her wheelchair in the school garden and looked at the man pretending to be a school worker at a far distance. She reached her hand out to him and said. “Hey. Come over here and lift me up. I need to get to class.”

Nie Feizhan: “….”

“Aren’t you my bodyguard?”

‘I’m only a school worker.” Nie Feizhan reminded her. ”I’m just here to do menial labor.”

“Then menial labor school worker, come here and carry me.”

Afterwards-

“Hey, the bodyguard over there, come here and carry me. I want to go to sleep.”

Nie Feizhan took big steps over. “Are you sure you want me to carry you into the bedroom?”

Rong Mo retreated slightly. “Didn’t you dislike carrying me?”

Nie Feizhan paused and bent down to sweep her off her chair. He said through almost gnashed teeth. “I can’t bear to pick you up everyday and put you in my pocket and you still think that’s not enough like?”

The previous Nie Feizhan: I don’t want to tease her.

I don’t have any interest in cute girls.

I don’t want to protect her, not one bit.

I also won’t fall madly in love with her in the future.

The future Nie Feizhan: Only I can carry her from her chair.

Whomever dares to touch her will be gambling his life away with me.

This is the story of a weak and frail gorgeous heiress vs her manly and protective bodyguard.

- Description from Novelupdates

The Omnistore SystemChapter 492: Equally embarrassing regalia (R-18)
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“Coming live to you, from Cerou Street, this is MBP News, and we have an unfolding situation to report. Late last night, at approximately 3:00 AM, an explosive-like sound reverberated through this area, disrupting the sleep of residents and instilling fear in their hearts,” the news anchor, a striking figure, delivered the report with poise, standing before the camera amidst a bustling scene.

In the background, the blaring horns of ambulances and police vehicles disturbed the serenity of the beautiful morning light. Two individuals wearing protective suits, presumably forensic experts, held a stretcher carrying a charred body.

The news anchor, who had been reporting earlier, placed a hand on her ear, fitted with an earpiece, and looked visibly surprised. Her voice filled with urgency as she continued, “We have just received an update from our headquarters regarding the sole fatality in this unexpected incident. The victim of this tragic event is none other than Norman, the famous gigolo of Night palace.”

“My colleague, who was set to cover an event today at Nightplace, obtained this information firsthand from Countess Maria, who held a special place for Norman in her heart. Our focus this morning is on this breaking news,” the female news reporter continued amidst the chaotic scene, while Norman's charred body lay alone in the ambulance.

Meanwhile, in a different world, a young boy lay fast asleep with his head on the table. The sun, seemingly displeased with the boy's carefree slumber, cast its rays directly onto his face. Annoyed by the intrusion, the boy shifted his head in another direction, unwilling to be roused from his deep sleep.

*ZZZr Zzrz Zzrzzr* However, an additional source disturbed his sleep, filling the room with a buzzing sound. The boy furrowed his brows in annoyance, his eyes still closed. He searched his surroundings and discovered a glass-like slab. With closed eyes, he slid his finger across it and placed it near his ear.

“Hello...” he mumbled in his drowsy voice, which carried a hint of depth.

“Hey, Pissed-up Prat, where are you?” a voice laced with disdain emanated from the slab.

The boy, referred to as the “Pissed-up Prat” by the irritating female voice, recognized it as a voice he heard frequently but couldn't recall its owner. With his eyes still closed, he inquired, “Who is this?”

“What do you mean, 'who is this'? Wake up, come home, or eat shit for breakfast if you prefer!” the voice behind the transparent slab retorted before falling silent.

The boy, still not fully awakened, gazed at the half-opened glass slab with a mixture of confusion and surprise. As his eyes darted around the room, he became increasingly shocked.

As he recollected the fragmented memories from the night before he lost consciousness, his gaze fell upon the entrance of the shop. Once old and damp, it now bore a different appearance. While not transformed into a luxurious space, it had undergone improvements compared to its previously dilapidated state.

The shop took on a rectangular shape, with one longer side adorned with wooden shelves intricately patterned. Rows of empty glass jars lined these shelves. On the opposite side, there was another wooden shelf, also displaying empty jars. Towards the beginning of the counter, where the boy had been sleeping, there stood a peculiar machine.

Confusion etched across his face, he murmured to himself, “Whose shop is this?”

In response to his question, a mechanical voice resonated in his mind.

[The Omnistore belongs to you, host.]

……………………………………………………………

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People talk about Kwon Ihyeok and Hyeseong. The two must have been married in a past life. For 6 years, until the gangster became a respectable company CEO, Hyeseong was always by Ihyeok’s side. They were perfect partners. Until Hyeseong dropped a bombshell.“I’m going to become a farmer.”Hyeseong abruptly announced his resignation and left Ihyeok’s side.“Hyeseong. I can’t let you go.”But Ihyeok, unwilling to easily let him go, begins actively investigating the reason for Hyeseong’s departure.“Sir, by any chance…are you living next door to me?”“Yes.”There must be some scumbag who lured Hyeseong to a place like this. Ihyeok is convinced, and even does background checks to uncover Hyeseong’s secret, but he is missing a very important point.“Strange. Why do you smell so sweet?”>> A Taste“How much have you been drinking?”“I don’t know. As much as was given to me?”Ihyeok’s voice seemed normal, but Hyeseong knew. He was drunk now.“I’ll bring you a blanket so sleep here.”As Hyeseong got up to get bedding from his room…“…?!”Suddenly, Ihyeok sat up and grabbed Hyeseong’s arm, pulling him down. Caught off guard, Hyeseong fell onto the sofa.“What are you doing…?”He tried to break free but couldn’t.“Strange. Why do you smell so sweet?”‘Could it be…my pheromones are starting to flow?’That was not a good sign at all.“Sir. Step back for a bit.”Then, out of nowhere, Ihyeok pressed his lips to Hyeseong’s neck. A tingling sensation began burning through his body.“Sir, wait…ah…”Ihyeok, who had been brushing his lips against him, slowly started licking and sucking his neck.