I have Immortality In The Cultivation World - Chapter 60 - : The Form of a Hero

The eldest daughter of the Li family is beautiful and sassy, ​​she took space materials to flee famine, and after going through many difficulties in war, disease and epidemic, she united with her family to regain the glory and harvested a beautiful boy.

- Description from novelbuddy

Thirty years ago, a meteor fell and the divine ruins appeared! Some deities emerged from it, feeding on humans. Since that day, humans have become food for the deities, except for me!Because I feed on the deities.

The main protagonist Chen He often meets crazy people in his life, and all these people have very deep prejudices against him. They often do weird things.

(1)

Once, Chen He polished off a bunch of hired killers (who seemed to be after him?), and eventually found the mastermind.

Chen He: You and I are complete strangers, so why are you doing this to me?

Mastermind: You’re gonna kill me after ten years! Of course I’ve got to make a preemptive strike.

Chen He: …

(2)

Chen He: Sir, we have had no bad blood between us, and I have not done anything to offend you. Why are you being so threatening?

Taoist priest: Hmph! In the future, you’ll be offending me to no end. Haven’t you been looking down on me all your life?

Chen He: …but I still have my entire life ahead of me!

(3)

Antagonist A: Chen He! Because of your master, I was rejected by XX Sect, and so I was forced to become a demonic cultivator!

Chen He: Who…who are you?

Antagonist B: My future lover’s meridians and good looks were ruined by you, and I’m definitely not gonna let you do it this time!

Chen He could not help but think: There is definitely something wrong with my life!

- Description from Novelupdates

[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.