Soul-swapping:Imperial concubine rebirth - Chapter 20

“Boss. Aren’t you too greedy? You are selling this husky mutt for 500,000?”

A cute girl in a ponytail held a husky puppy, whose eyes looked exceptionally wise, in her arms as she glared at Lin Ye. Her gaze was accusing him of being a dishonest trader.

Lin Ye explained, “Miss, I have to formally inform you: this is not a husky mutt.”

The girl retorted, “Don’t you dare trick me.”

“I’m serious. It has the bloodline of Cerberus. Its potential is limitless.”

The girl was stunned by Lin Ye’s words.

After pondering for a moment, she realized that what he said was absurd. Agitated, she yelled, “Are you sure? I don’t believe it!”

Lin Ye gestured at the husky in her arms as he said, “Little fella, get down and show your future owner what you can do. Go!”

“Woof!”

The girl shrieked in horror as she witnessed the little husky spit out a fireball the size of a fist.

……

Many years later, Lin Ye has crowned the Father of Beast-taming of the Blue Planet. When he was interviewed, he said forlornly, “It all started with a husky mutt.”

At the same time, in a mansion, a gigantic red dog with three heads sneezed. Then, it barked at the television before it.

“Woof!”

I found myself possessing the body of a young master who everyone was eager to kill. I’m invincible, so let them try to kill me. It’s only for one second, though.

“Is this a game, or did aliens make me time-travel?”

“It’s terrifying, people who die in the game actually die in the real world!”

“Damn, the whole city is mine, and there are still things that can be brought from the game to the real world, it’s just…”

Song Jian aimlessly wandered through the empty city, accompanied only by mutated zombies and monsters. His only goal now was to survive in such a zombie-infested Doomsday City.

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[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.