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My Female Disciples All Have Sinister Intentions

Fang Yang transmigrated to become the leader of a demonic cult, with his powers completely dissipated and his memory lost. All he inherited was a stack of diaries left by the previous demon lord. He discovered that the demon lord was a philanderer, with ex-lovers and admirers everywhere, each of whom harbored deep-seated hatred for him. In order to survive, he had no choice but to follow the diaries and pretend to be the demon lord, navigating relationships with numerous peerless beauties, trying to dispel their hatred. "Your Highness, the moon is exceptionally beautiful tonight, why don't we go out to enjoy it together?" The Princess of Zhen Nan: "?" "Empress, please be reserved. For the sake of the people of the world, let us part ways here." The Empress: "??" "My disciple, give up. It's impossible between us." Female disciple: "???" ... From then on, Fang Yang racked his brains and put on a full performance. He maneuvered among many women, striving to keep himself from being raped or killed by them. As the old saying goes, one woman is equivalent to five hundred crows. What about ten or twenty? Fang Yang, covering his ears that were nearly deafened by the noise, looked at the sensual and stunning beauties before him. He wanted to cry but had no tears...

Lady Qiao in Spring · Eastern
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751 Chs

Chapter 227: Mo Ke: Please, Master, punish your disciple severely!_1

The night was deep.

Tonight, the moonlight was like a lake, covering the courtyard!

Mo Ke held a lantern in her hand, her Daoist robe fluttering as the hairpin on her head seemed to merge with the moonlight itself.

Gleaming and translucent.

It was neither luxurious nor cheap; instead, it exuded an air of mystery that was very much like her.

The door creaked open, and the moon filled the western chamber.

Mo Ke simply pushed the door open, the lantern illuminating the surroundings and the Empress's boudoir.

Now, it was so graceful and elegant.

The boudoir was somewhat messy, no longer as quiet and natural as before.

Fang Yang was seated cross-legged on the bed, a brocade quilt covering his legs!

His face was expressionless, and his eyes were strange as he looked down at the quilt, as if he was somewhat helpless, but he quickly concealed that look.

He still had an indifferent demeanor.

Guan Qinghan!