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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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484 Chs

Chapter 79: My Disciple, Sorry for the Hardship (Please Subscribe)_1

Translator: 549690339

At that moment, the Qing Shadow Sword had already flown back into Ye Qinghong's hand.

Ye Qinghong, with her ponytail fluttering, had a clear and cold look in her eyes.

She was planning to go to the Tianyin Sect as well.

A figure flashed in front of her.

His gaze profound, his black robe billowing.

It was her master.

The moment she saw her master, her entire body trembled slightly, and she remembered that kiss from before.

A ripple stirred in her cool eyes.

The hand holding the sword turned even paler.

The normally indifferent her was, for a moment, at a loss, uncertain how to face the situation.

And to Fang Yang who witnessed this scene, it naturally appeared as a hesitation troubled by a deformed love.

He sighed, his gaze softening.

Like a fatherly figure, his broad palm rested on Ye Qinghong's head.

Ye Qinghong's body trembled, and she was about to dodge.

But the next moment...