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#WEAKTOSTRONG
#CULTIVATION
#GENIUS
#BEAUTY
#NONHUMAN
#LOVETRIANGLE
#SEDUCTIVE
#FAKEIDENTITY
#DETAILED
#CROSSDRESSING

Unparalleled Artist: Unlikely Hero

Following his father's murder, Wu Ling's mother returned to the life of a courtesan, disguising her young son as a girl to take refuge in the Bamboo Silk House, a women's only sect dedicated to the arts. Now, as his powers awaken, he'll find himself torn between protecting his family and the goals of powerful cultivators who see him as a means to an end. "Wu Ling, I've accepted a marriage proposal on your behalf," the bewitching Hall Master of the Bamboo Silk House declared. "When you enter the Inner Sect, you'll enter under the name 'Hua Qianhu', fiancee of a young lord of the Liang family." "Hall Master, that's impossible!" Wu Ling protested. "Even if you ignore my relationship with Meifeng, I might have dressed well enough to hide as a mortal woman but I could never..." "So you truly didn't realize what you were doing," the Hall Master said, a dark smile on her lips. "Little Ling, you're a natural-born Shapeshifter. I'll teach you what you need to know," she said, her features shifting until she looked like a mirror image of the stunned Wu Ling. "As long as you follow my arrangements and learn my techniques, it isn't impossible for you to reunite with Meifeng..." "But you should consider Young Lord Liang carefully," the Hall Master added. "His affection for you is genuine. Perhaps, one day, you'll even feel the same for him..."

JustJae · Fantasy
Not enough ratings
309 Chs
#WEAKTOSTRONG
#CULTIVATION
#GENIUS
#BEAUTY
#NONHUMAN
#LOVETRIANGLE
#SEDUCTIVE
#FAKEIDENTITY
#DETAILED
#CROSSDRESSING

Rending the Soul

When Fang Muchen spoke of letting Fang Lin live a mortal life, something began to tear deep within Fang Lin. For years, he'd thought of himself not only as a Scholar, but more fundamentally than that, as a cultivator. He had set his feet firmly on a path that would leave the mortal world behind. His lifespan would be measured in centuries as he pursued ever greater heights in an even more dazzling life than the one he currently enjoyed. 

Now, that deepest part of himself that knew he'd begun to shed his mortality quaked. Had he really? Was he truly a cultivator at all? Weren't cultivators powerful men who commanded wind and rain, free to walk anywhere in the world as they pleased? Yet here he stook, quaking in fear before his father and his father's pet wolf as he felt that life, the life of a cultivator, being torn away from him.