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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 233: Ye Qinghong's Bridal Chamber Plan, The Empress Dowager's Illness!_1

The night was pristine, like frost and snow, sprinkled on the glazed tiles, as well as on the side of Ye Qinghong's face.

Her complexion was cool and detached; those eyes, usually as placid as a lake without the slightest ripple, now stirred with tiny undulations, seemingly shy, yet extraordinarily resolute, pressing her lips tightly together.

She stared fixedly at her own master.

The black hair tied behind her swayed gently, like an unripe lotus, ingraining itself into Fang Yang's heart, making it tremble.

In silence, he watched his stubborn disciple before him, unsure of what to say for the moment.

Ye Qinghong, holding the Qingying Sword, looked up at the bright moon in the sky, her mouth curving slightly, her usually cold eyes revealing a hint of bewilderment.

"Master, I thought I could contain myself, but now it seems not. I want to marry you, grow old together, and stay by your side for life," she declared.