Peace Order - Chapter 391 - 167: Qilin, Move!

Our MC dies from an accidental electrocution and ends up inhabiting the body of a young prince in another world, his new profession being the Necromancer he chose in the game he was playing before his untimely demise. However, things are not what they seem – including his own Necromancy skills!

A piece of divorce paper sent Xia Xinghe into a state of destitution. However, a car accident later, she transformed into a professional hacker with more money than she could ever spend. All those that have belittled, bullied and laughed at me, please line up, I’ll show you what the meaning of face-slapping is! Wait, wait, wait. That guy over there, the ex-husband that I no longer have any relations with, don’t cut in line. What, you want to help me face-slap these people? “Not only that I will help you face-slap myself!” The wickedly handsome man with billions of dollar in estate raised his own palm to slap his own face without reservation!

- Description from Novelupdates

As a new anchor of StarTV, Yu Yan’s ruthless trash-talk, natural rifle-shooting skills, and character of never searching houses earned him a big crowd of fans.

He felt like he was a good anchor who treated all fans of his stream equally—you can suck at the game, you can get knocked down, but if you want the gun in my hand, sorry, no way man.

Until he heard the voice of the streaming platform’s Big Boss.

Yu · ultimate voice-con · Yan: I’m not familiar with this game, swap my Kar98k for your Mini-14.

Yi · brand new noob · Chen: En.

Friend: Daddy, I want to snipe too!

Yu Yan: I think this frying pan suits you very well.

Not-a-very good gamer but dripping with money and looks Big Boss vs Cute, super good trash-talking gunslinger voice-con Anchor.

- Description from Novelupdates

[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.