MTL - The Other Shore of the Immortal Firmament - Chapter 98 Meet Jiaolong again

Painfully shy and conflict-averse, Yun Ruoyan is a scion to a noble house only in name, a puppet embroiled in political machinations beyond her ken. At the tender age of eighteen, poisoned and at death’s door, she finds herself thrown out into the streets. Her relatives have all been executed, betrayed by her dear husband and her cousin. With her dying breath, she curses her own weakness and swears revenge.

When Yun Ruoyan awakens once more, she is thirteen, transported five years into the past by the will of the heavens. Her death-defying experience has changed her: no longer is she the malleable creature she once was. But more questions await at every corner—what is the truth behind the birthmark that disfigures her appearance? What are the circumstances surrounding her mother’s mysterious death?

Will the phoenix rise from the ashes, or will she fall once more in thrall to fate?

Got roomed with another straight man in a love hotel and had to share a bed. Meeting by the road side on a certain day, the boy in his arms was smiling wildly.

Hey, let me explain myself, don’t go ahead of yourself. I was just being a samaritan. I had to help, even if I lied about being a straight man like you.

Are you running away after getting me excited? Let’s see what kind of ending you want today.

Since you all asked for a wife chasing crack, then let’s perseverate to the end. I’m not crazy, you are the one who is crazy. This is probably a crack but still gentle gong and a shou fighting against the crack story. Lighthearted! Comedy! No brain cells will be lost!

- Description from Novelupdates

[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.