Asura Mad Emperor - Chapter 609 -

The Night Has Come, and kermesinus moon ascends in the sky.Hoarse whispers flow at the street corners, and brass steam machines spew out bloody mist.Your brain is singing a hymn, eyes are chanting a melody.Skin cracks, and flesh buds swell.Amidst the Mist, the wall of flesh that has devoured thousands of corpses wails endlessly—“Weep not, our players don't bite, they just want to play with you.”Annan, the lone strategist, the top player, the savior of the mist-covered continent, the leader of the Thirteen Saints, the friend of the Twelve True Gods, the king of pioneers, “the Just”, the Gatekeeper of the Fourth Calamity, the uncrowned deity, advised kindly.

That night, she was dragged to the Bureau of Civil Affairs. Wait, after getting the marriage certificate, the husband ran away? And his identity can’t be found? OMG, did she marry a human or a ghost?

Disheveled, she entered the entertainment industry and almost got sexually assaulted by a director due to the unspoken rule. Young Master Moh suddenly reappeared, and that director was tortured before getting cancelled.

During a shoot, she almost died since her enemy wanted to destroy her. Then, hundreds of mysterious soldiers arrived and smashed everything. The producer was exposed of corruption and his life got destroyed.

She always fights back and takes revenge, not taking the high road.

What? A woman is after her man? No tolerance! She barged into that woman’s home and whooped her ass. She said afterward, “How dare you touch my man?”

Young Master Moh had to cover his forehead; he needed to teach her how to behave like a senior officer’s woman.

A book about Austria’s recovery to mightiness!!!A history about House of Habsburg’s struggles and successes!!!The Holy Roman Empire — which was neither holy, nor Roman, nor an empire — now came back!!!

[Longevity + Discipleship + No Female Lead + Lighthearted Humor with No Tragic Moments]When his master picks food, he spins the table there;When his master chants spells, he chats without a care;When his master takes rest, he sings a lively song;When his master lies late, he bangs the pot along;His master lives on long, but his life is rather short;His master lays him down on the hillside, as a sort;His master lifts a cup, but he won’t take a drink;His master shares a tale, but he won’t stop to think;His master holds a feast, but he leaves the table wide;His master calls his soul, but he’s nowhere to abide.Spring returns to the hills, with blooms so bright and fair,Yet master and disciple are parted, one in heaven, one elsewhere.