MTL - Protect Our Patriarch - v3 Chapter 109 Wang's Daxing! All parties come to North Korea

Cultivation is about refining oneself and one's heart.The heavens and earth are the furnace, creation is the work, yin and yang are the carbon, the myriad paths are the copper, and with a steadfast Dao heart, one can refine a Primordial Dao Fruit.Refining pills, refining tools, refining formations, refining talismans, refining swords, refining souls, refining medicine, refining plagues, refining demons, refining devils, refining the heart, refining worlds, refining the Dao...Everything in nature can be refined!This is what Xuan Qing says.If you provoke him, he will even refine the Heavenly Dao to show you!Of course, this all began the day he joined the Jie sect...

Fourteen years old Su Bei almost died when she had a high fever, got transmigrated into another world and finally knew a shocking truth–it turned out that the world she was originally in was just a novel and her whole family were villains.

The woman who gave birth to them was the cannon fodder in the novel. She and Su Xiaobao were written like this in the extra chapter. One was a little bastard who tried to bully the male lead’s daughter and eventually got thrown into prison and the other one became an escort, who after having failed to seduce the male lead, was killed by an evil director. They also have a dad whom they never met and was the biggest villain in the book.

Back to her original world, the first thing Su Bei did was to take Su Xiaobao and find their father.

Su Bei: Su Xiaobao, quick, call him.

Su Xiaobao: Call him what?

Su Bei: Call dad.

Su Xiaobao: I don’t want to, do it yourself.

Su Bei: Dad!

Looking at these two dirty children in front of him, Mr. Qin’s eyes showed disgust.

Earth has undergone an odd change. Expanding by millions of times its original size, its population was suddenly split into two halves.

On one side, there was a group of technologically advanced humans. But, on the other, a world of cultivation had grown and pospered.

The secrets that led to this change have been hidden in the darkness for too long... Until there came a day where a boy born on the Mortal side of the world was found to have the talent to enter the Martial side. Having lost both of his parents to a hidden tide, he chose to leave all that he had known behind and enter this land of danger.

What truths would he unveil? What would he learn about what separated the Mortals from the Cultivators? What hidden evils wanted to ensure that his people never rose up and gained power? And how would those evils... deal with him?

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This list of things I hate is quite long.

The first is that I hate to be tested the most.

The second is that I hate to be tested the most.

The third also happens to be that I hate to be tested the most.

The ocean's depths are too shallow, the sun's light too dim, the ground too mundane and the skies too small. For those born of this colorless world to deem themselves worthy of casting judgement on me... I can only say that it's laughable.

I am the Nameless Immortal God because even the Heavens themselves are unworthy to name me. Even while I am unaware of my own identity, I will dry the oceans until cracked land is all that is left, I will cast the sun into endless darkness, I will shatter the ground with my feet and sunder the skies with my blade.

Am I too arrogant? What right do you have to think that?

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It was understood that this was a capitalist country, where the possession of the greatest amount of capital determined to whom the nation effectively belonged.The smile that had been resting on William Sheffield’s face was abruptly erased as his expression turned cold. In a tone laced with determination, it was demanded by him that the police be contacted immediately so that they could crush those who stood in their way. The reasoning behind his words seemed clear: if such actions had been taken before by someone like Rockefeller, then why should it not also be possible for Sheffield?A sense of irony hung in the air as the sentiment was expressed—this was America, where each day seemed to unfold as though it were part of an ongoing shootout, with battles fought not just with guns but with power, influence, and wealth.