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... e two words in his mind.

He exited his coach at the entrance of the palace, mesmerized by its grandeur. In his estimate, the palace was at least twice the size of the baron’s castle.

Two rows of sentries stood at both sides of the entries. Their black armor and gold fringes contrasted with the metallic luster of their drawn-out swords.

At the end of the row, right in the door opening, stood two figures. One was an elderly man with neatly-combed white hair and a well-trimm ...

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He was once Head of the Immortal Sects.

Jiang Zheliu resisted the world’s destruction, protecting the people single-handedly. After losing all his spiritual energy, his hair turned white overnight.

All that remained was a millennium passed in vain, and a grave disease.

He distanced himself from the Cultivation World, went to Zhongnan Mountain to collect herbal medicines and grow flowers, as if to retire.

Until….. Those little demons he had once saved, his cherished juniors, even those devils that he had suppressed innumerable times, all came knocking at his door, each more excited than the next gripping his hand:

“Qianbei, what type do you like? Can you not be so rigid on your requirements?”

Jiang Zheliu: “……???”

Wenren Ye is newly appointed Devil Lord of the Devil Realm.

He is cold-hearted, devilishly handsome, and when he was younger he suffered a humiliating defeat at the hands of a certain Head of the Immortal Sects.

Still obsessed with this defeat, Wenren Ye hurried through the night to Zhongnan Mountain, but all he saw was white-haired weak Immortal Sects Leader, with droopy eyes, sick to the bone, with freshly coughed up blood staining his lips.

His obsession was still alive, but his heart was also thumping.

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