Blessing Of Yuri Goddess - Chapter 239 - 68 - The Monarch Tasks

Qiao Nan: Crap! I am your biological daughter, yet I am treated as if I was picked up from the streets. In fact, you treat me worse than that!

Mother Qiao: Qiao Nan, you are not as pretty or smart as your elder sister. You are not as blessed as her. You have no right to study, marry, or to have your happiness!

Qiao Nan: Why am I not allowed to study, marry, or to seek my happiness? I will find a man right now and marry him!

Qiao Nan is dumbstruck upon discovering that the man right beside her is a powerful figure in the quad—the person who has the most promising prospects to be the future Chief.

Qiao Nan stares at the well-built man in front of her. He has firm abs and cold, chilling eyes. She swallows the lump in her throat as she says her greetings, “Good Morning, Chief!”

- Description from Novelupdates

After transmigrating through ten years and silently registering his name at the Shanmen for ten years, the system finally issued Ye Changge his first task: to take in some disciples!

Yang Lujia, a sought-after, handsome, sports-driven, and seemingly perfect man with an outstanding family background was killed in a plane bombing orchestrated by his so-called pals. Before he even knew it, his soul traveled through space, and his supposed-to-be ending unexpectedly took turns.

Unknowingly, he set foot into a world made up of five realms where strength matters most. Then, one day, following a mission, he started accepting disciples.

[Ding! The system has discovered an S-Class Genius! System’s Fifth Ability Unlocked: Disciple Acknowledgment!]

[New Mission: Recruit and acknowledge the Holy Flood Empire's S-Class Genius. The reward will be issued upon acknowledgment from both parties.]

[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.