You Are My Starlight - Chapter 122

(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…

[Mature Content]“The brightest light casts the darkest shadow”Eirin lived her life in the shadows of her precious friend, but she soon fell into deep chaos after she stumbled upon a humanoid that tried to take her life without an ounce of hesitation. She was saved by a group of people who wielded unknown abilities, and the moment she woke up, it all felt like a nightmare.Just when she thought she had escaped death, the people who saved her are now the ones after her life. Misfortunes started going her way, and creatures unknown to her appeared one by one, taking the most precious person away from her and leaving Eirin in despair.Secrets started unfolding, and the monster Eirin sought for so long was not the one she expected them to be.

[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.