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My Qi Keeps Resetting

The once lazy and complacent Michael has finally found something worth getting serious for. Gifted in gathering herbs, as long as it doesn't interfere with his midday nap. One fateful night Michael's world is turned upside down as he hurries home from the mountains after a day of picking herbs. His hometown village is engulfed in flames and laid to waste, his family members reduced to charred meat. Chasing revenge, Michael must overcome all obstacles and become an exalted cultivator to avenge his family. The only keepsakes remaining are an old pendant and dilapidated cultivation technique passed down from his ancestor. Michael's biggest problem on his road to revenge isn't lack of talent, nor lack of determination. "What the F***??, is this some kind of cruel joke?" "Where is my Qi???" His Qi keeps resetting. --------------- Taking a break for a little bit DISCLAIMER: This is my first contracted book with webnovel, and I am new to writing. In the beginning MC is a typical teenager, loud, childish, sometimes lazy, not taking things seriously, and sometimes haughty (even when he shouldn't be) etc. This may put some people off. However Michael eventually grows up, just like we all do. He's full of flaws and is not OP! at least in comparison to other novels. If you're looking for character development, I believe you'll find it here. I am also improving as a writer every day, so I apologise if anything is hard to read at the beginning. Thank you for reading and adding this to your collections, please feel free to comment on chapters and place your review. If you have any spare power stones please vote! Thanks, LeeroyCGNA

leeroycgna · Fantasy
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156 Chs
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Unexpected Date?

As Michael stepped into the bustling dining area, his famished stomach growled audibly, protesting his delay in satiating its hunger. The relatively empty space indicated that he had arrived a bit early for dinner, prompting him to order some ale to temporarily appease his appetite.

Choosing a secluded table near the window, Michael kept his eyes fixed on the menu, barely glancing up as a woman approached. Speaking in a hurried tone, he placed his order, "Three flagons of ale, and please inquire about the start of dinner service."

Silence lingered, leaving Michael feeling increasingly uneasy. "Um, three flagons of ale, please," he repeated slowly, raising his volume, assuming the barmaid might be a bit slow.