Battling Records of the Chosen One - Chapter 240 - Whistling Clang of the Saber

From quiet grind to legacy brew.Jun had nothing—no café, no followers, not even a bed. Just a secondhand kettle and a broken dream.Then came the Barista System.No shortcuts. No instant success. Just slow, intentional tasks... and a promise:Brew. Grow. Endure.Every pour sharpens his skill. Every cup deepens his path.From street corners to pop-ups, from whispered praise to a space of his own—Jun’s grind is just beginning.This is a story of stillness, patience, and the quiet pursuit of mastery.Because greatness isn’t given.It’s brewed—one cup at a time.

By a series of freakish accidents, she provokes the feared and mysterious “God of Night”.

When someone bullies her, he says, “Only two types of people bully my wife: those who haven’t crossed her path, and those who have already died. Which do you want to be?”

When someone questions her, he says, “Everything my wife does is right! Those who disagree can have a little chat with me!”

When he goes home, he pleads in a low voice, “Wifey~ Can I not sleep in the study today?”

“You can consider sleeping on the streets.”

“Well, I’ll sleep in the study, then.”

At night, he abducts his freshly-showered wife into the study. She shrieks, “Sheng Nanxuan! What are you doing?!”

“Sleeping… in… the… study!”

The next day, his wife dashes out of the room with tears in her eyes and a sore waist. That isn’t what she meant by “sleeping in the study”…

In a world dotted with World Entrances to a demon world, demons have invaded humans for centuries. Humanity has united and one of the most ancient sects in the world, the Archean Mountain Sect, has set up an entire education system in the form of Dao Academies and defenses at the World Entrances.

The hearse with the weird odor slowed to a stop before the entrance. The sound of pebbles could be heard bouncing on the ceiling. There were footsteps coming from the corridor, and there seemed to be someone sawing next door. The door knob to the room rattled slightly, and the faucet in the bathroom kept dripping even though it had been screwed shut. There was a rubber ball that rolled on its own underneath the bed. Wet footsteps started to surface one after another on the floor. At 3 am, Chen Ge held a cleaver in his hand as he hid beside the room heater. The call he was trying to make was finally answered. “Landlord, is this what you meant by ‘the house can be a little crowded at night’!?”