My Master Only Breaks Through on the Edge of Death - Chapter 850 - 823 Potted Small Tree_1

[The return of the Great Holy Spirit, blood boiling! 】 The father was killed, the family wealth was taken, all the hands and feet were interrupted, and the revenge flame was ignited, and the Qitian Dasheng inheritance was obtained. Since then, the rise of the sky, God blocked the killing, the Buddha blocked the Buddha! Qin Feng wore a gold armor and held a hand of the sea god: “I want this world for thirty-six days, and I will return to the big holy flag!”

- Description from Fpzw (Translated)

50,000 years ago, Hell was destroyed because of too much Foul from the resentment of the souls that later turned to Soul Eaters and devoured everything in their wake, leaving nothing of Hell. The gods above in Heaven, in order to take care of the newly-died souls, created the Afterlife Department comprised of grim reapers.

Huo Ling was delivering food that day when he met Yi Bing and the guy gave him a warning. When he arrived to the customer's unit, he was killed.

Huo Ling: you set up a death flag for me!

Yi Bing: I'm a grim reaper. I'm the flag myself. Let me help you solve the mystery of your death.

Huo Ling: your sister!

Alternative title: The Different Ways I Died at 23

Update: daily

The Cambrian Explosion, now the largest life science puzzle…

The boundless universe is full of many wonders.

I, Chen Ping, only have one sword!

I can move mountains, overturn the seas upside down, suppress demons, slap the face of gods, pluck the stars, break rivers, destroy cities, and… open the heavenly abode!

***

The Midland world was full of wonders.

In the center of the world, there was a scholar who had once used a sword to slash out a waterfall of the Milky Way. This was the person he was the most proud of.

At the edge of East Sea’s cliffs, there was a nameless Daoist who was unwilling to ascend to the peak of a mountain. He only wished for a cool breeze to brush against his face.

In the Western Pure Land, there was an old monk who liked to treat people to chicken soup and tell stories.

In the southern border of the Wilderness, there was a blind painter who controlled golden-armored puppets that were as tall as mountains to move the hundred thousand mountains, creating an embroidered picture.

A impoverished youth who grew up in the north. One day, he saw tens of thousands of Sword Kinesis Immortals above him, like a swarm of locusts crossing the border.

He wanted to see for himself the scholar that the storyteller had mentioned, the surging tides of the East Sea, the vast swamps of sand in the west, and the majestic mountains of the Southern Wasteland.

Thus, one day, the youth picked up the wooden sword and began to descend south.

- Description from novelupdates