Jujutsushi Wa Yuusha Ni Narenai - Chapter 148: Little Princess

I was reincarnated into another world, and I’ve brought the Horadric Cube from Diablo II with me.
Being a knight is cool and all, but being a wizard is pretty neat as well.
So, which one will it be?

The headlines bring shocking and mind-boggling news.

“Ling Sheng boarded Movie King Huo Ci’s sports car, and the duo are suspected to be dating!”

“Huo Ci and Ling Sheng entered and left the same condominium. They are confirmed to be staying together.”

“Screw off, these blind bastards. He’s my biological father!”

Third Master Jun, likewise, reacts with a similar reaction. He spits. “Whoever posted these will be blacklisted, never to be seen again in the media industry! I shall see who else has the guts to spread rumors about my wife and father-in-law.”

Third Master Jun is the most affluent man on earth and this places him at the apex of the world order. However, he is troubled by the fact that the Movie King Huo Ci, despite only being a few years older than him, is his father-in-law.

Song Zhong’s parents were the geniuses of the sect. But they were apparently killed while on a mission when he was barely 6. As he apparently did not excel in any of the 5 elements, in fact, all 5 elements are in balance in his body. Thus, our fatty is deemed to be trash and does not deserve the respect his parents had.

He is allowed to have one task, to collect garbage of the sect until he reaches the initial test-age where he has to prove that he is worthy to stay in the sect.

Our fatty has no choice but to cultivate the only heritage his parents gave him. A mysterious black pearl.

Unfortunately for him, this pearl seems to be only useful for… collecting garbage…

- 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.