Cultivator of the End: I Refine My Own Death - Chapter 125 – Those Who Cling to Breath

Jiang Ping transmigrated to a world of the cultivation and became the chief of a deteriorating cultivation family. Most importantly, he had three cute and playful daughters.

Because the world of cultivation out there is too dangerous and his daughters are too young, Jiang ping chose to hide their identities and live in a small town of ordinary people. He kept warning his daughters that the world out there is too dangerous, so don’t make any trouble.

“Daughters, you must remember that there are tons of bad people out there! Their favorite thing to do is to kidnap little girls like you and use you for evil cultivation methods.”

“In this world of cultivation, the most important moral to follow is to stay low-key and hide. As long as we don’t cause any trouble, we’ll never be in any danger.

Until one day, when a supreme divine cultivator came to seek revenge, Jiang Ping smacked him down on the ground and completely crushed him over and over again…

His daughters asked, “Daddy, was that person you just beat up a Divine Cultivator?”

Jiang Ping said, “Nop, that was just a bad person who was trying to disturb our happy life. Daughters, the world outside is too scary, we didn’t even go out and danger came knocking on our door!”

His daughters asked, “Daddy, do you think that we’re all idiots?” The servants he hired all said, “So the family chief is the real supreme cultivator?”

Divorced, disowned and down on her luck, Shui Anluo was determined to move on and live a peaceful life… That is, until her ex-husband somehow managed to find out about her baby. Now, he’s insisting that she should move back in with him.

Soon, he realizes that he cannot live without her… But the road to marriage is bumpy, and Shui Anluo isn’t too willing to go through with the heartbreak again.

Can she take back everything that belongs to her? Will she find the courage to jump in and fall in love again?

- Description from Novelupdates

Weary reader, it is an honor for you to choose this book in this heavy, dark library room.

Somewhat sadly, the book is sick.

Your fingers should be able to feel the raised growths on the surface of the book cover,

The words written in the old days are like parasites rooted in the pages of the book, hoping that someone can observe their wriggling,

To feel, to analyze, to touch the story of the disease.

If you insist on borrowing this book, be sure to check your physical condition regularly.

- Description from novelbuddy