The Gentle Maiden and Five Lustful Brothers - Chapter 6: You smell as lovely as my garden

“Ding, the strongest template system is officially opened!”

“Generating template…”

“Calculating…”

“Ding, congratulations to the host for obtaining a B-level template!”

“Extracting…”

“Ding, congratulations to the host for getting the JR-Smith template!”

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- Description from novelbuddy

Zaiyila thought she had suffered enough—betrayed by her own mother and sold into marriage with a wealthy, aging man. But on the night of her pre-wedding ceremony, everything takes a dark and unexpected turn. A swarm of deadly snakes descends upon the gathering, killing her groom-to-be and throwing the hall into chaos. Fear spreads as the people recognize the serpents as the servants of the enigmatic and terrifying Snake King, Everett.When Everett himself arrives—a striking, horned man of unmatched beauty and power—Zaiyila finds herself drawn to him in ways she cannot explain. Despite the fear he inspires in others, she feels an unshakable connection to him, one that transcends the realm of logic. The moment she defies the fearful kneeling of the crowd, she unknowingly seals her fate.Taken into Everett’s domain, Zaiyila is forced to confront not only the dangerous, supernatural world she’s been thrust into but also the awakening desires she cannot deny. As she unravels the truth about her past and her connection to the Snake King, she must decide—will she resist the pull of destiny, or will she embrace the darkness and passion that Everett offers?A tale of betrayal, power, and an irresistible bond, Bride of the Serpent King explores the fine line between fear and desire, fate and choice.---

[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.