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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

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With that thought, she waved her hand, allowing the last scraps of her indecent clothing to fall away, revealing her flawless body as white and pure as jade.

Graceful, enticing...

Her beauty even surpassed the most perfect of sceneries, the fiery red maple leaves that now served as her backdrop.

Then, as if struck by a sudden thought, she bit her lip gently, and a brush mysteriously appeared between her fingers. With the brush, she wrote a single character—Fang—on her immaculate, straight and slender leg.

It signified her willingness to become the true Slave of the Demon Lord, to be ravaged at his will.

The black character emitted a faint, mysterious aura.

It stood out starkly against her snow-white leg, glaringly conspicuous and utterly captivating.

The Empress Dowager reclined on the cold jade bed, her hair disheveled and cheeks flushed with color, her peach-blossom eyes seemed to ripple endlessly, as if petals were falling one by one.

Passionate, romantic, ambiguous.