Kujibiki Tokushou: Musou Hāremu ken - Chapter 251

Sixteen years after Lu Yi traveled to the world of immortal cultivation, the long-lost golden finger finally awakened.

Goldfinger is a simple task panel. By accepting and completing tasks, you can get various rewards.

Lu Yi was surprised to find that the tasks he posted were counted as completing them himself?

So Lu Yi embarked on the road of no return where he issued a task to himself.

Issue the task to yourself [Practice the White Cloud Swordsmanship Ten Times], and the level of the White Cloud Swordsmanship will be +1 after completion.

Issue the quest [Defeat the Outer Sect Disciple] to yourself, and get the precious Perfect Qi Condensation Pill after completing it.

Issue the quest [Breakthrough to the Foundation Establishment Realm] to yourself, and get the best magic weapon after completing it.

…………

Unconsciously, Lu Yi discovered that even if he became a saint and an ancestor, it seemed that there was no difficulty in it?

- Description from novelbuddy

A golden parachute came my way when I was just an unknown actor. A massive one, big enough to cover all of South Korea.“Are you asking me to act as your boyfriend?”“If possible, even as a husband.”“Are you kidding me right now…”“I just transferred ten million won to your account. That should be enough to trust me, right?”“…Ma’am!”If I can just keep acting. I’d gladly sell even my soul.

Traveling through the fantasy world, becoming the descendant of the immortal family in the fairyland, born with a Chaos Physique, accompanied by a piece of Immortal Bone and a Primordial Seal.Starting with the Chaos Physique, he pushed forward all the way to be invincible.There are thousands of geniuses in the world, and they all have to bow their heads when they see me.

[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.