I Became a Sick Nobleman - Chapter 24: One by one (3)

Time wanders, in whose hands the gods rise and fall. Zhao Hua Xi Shi, who is the mastermind behind the long river of time and space?

Lu Chen’s purpose at the beginning was just to continue his longevity.

Group number: 291934284

- Description from novelbuddy

Introduction (2): Beautiful girl’s exclusive car, street supercar, hardcore off-road, thugs in suits, small steel guns, urban SUVs, golden collar favorites, tool cars, irritable pickups, grocery shopping cars… car explosions, passionate racing , practice second-hand cars, everything here.

Introduction (1): Secretary: “Mr. Zhang, this quarter, the sales of used cars increased by 250% month-on-month, and the sales of new cars increased by 380% month-on-month. The profit of car modification, repair and other businesses also hit a new high.”

Zhang Chen: “Okay, hard work, give one million yuan to each reader who supports this book.”

PS: This book is in the third person. 1 and a half female lead.

- Description from novelbuddy

"So, that's how my life ends, what a waste of time it was...".
These were the last thoughts of a young man, shot by accident in a fight between local gangs. Little did he know that he would soon wake up in another world, a world of cultivation!
This is the story of the whoreson of a wealthy family, of a transmigrator that had no purpose in his previous life, of a demon that will make power his reason to keep on living.
Noah Balvan, after he transmigrated, will have to fight against his social status and the many difficulties of the world he was reborn in to obtain the power to stand free in the sky above anyone!

[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.