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... who heard the laughter of the woman have a burst of illusion in their minds. Some are inexhaustible mellow bodies, and some are red powder. It is difficult to make a difference.

However, the people in the big squad at this time are all people who are powerful or infinitely close to the strongest. The illusion is just emerging, they are removed from them, and then everyone looks at the woman.

"Luo Shengjiao" Luo Sheng's mother.

Luo Shengjiao is a very evil organization and t ...

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In this world, there are Buddhas, Taos, demons, demons, and martial arts.

The martial arts system came from Buddhism, and there is a saying that all martial arts in the world came from Buddhism.

Meng Xing was a firewood chopping disciple of Zhenwu Sect of Xiuwu Sect.

After Hyundai Meng Xing crossed over, he started the road of system-assisted cultivation.

Since then, Meng Xing has become a god in the martial arts of the world.

……

Meng Xing met the leader of the Phoenix Fire Sect:

【1. Pretend not to see】

[Second, come forward to flatter, incarnate as a dog licking]

[Third, say to her, “Come here and serve your husband!”]

Meng Xing decisively chose the first option.

The other two are the rhythm of death.

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Lu Chen transmigrated to the Great Sum Dynasty, becoming the Ninth Prince of the dynasty.

Unlike the transmigrators in novels, Lu Chen didn’t have extensive engineering knowledge, nor did he remember much classical poetry.

In order to avoid getting involved in the succession struggle, Lu Chen could only lie low, planning to enjoy a quiet life of splendor and wealth.

Due to his mother’s status, Lu Chen was eventually granted a marriage by the Emperor and was assigned to be Prince over a bitterly cold territory in the north.

Just when Lu Chen thought he was going to decay in such a manner for the rest of his life, he activated a system on his wedding night.

As long as he sired a heir, Lu Chen would be able to receive rewards and even enhance his own power.

Years later.

Lu Chen marched into the capital with a million-strong army to support the Emperor, and everyone was dumbfounded.

“Wasn’t this guy a useless Prince? Where did he get a million-strong army from!”

“What’s happening, how could he possibly be a Grandmaster?”

“Turns out the Ninth Prince’s decadence was all an act!”

……………………………………………………………

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“Y-young master, the Lord is requesting your presence.”

I looked at myself in the mirror as a maid's voice, laced with trepidation, reached my ears.

“Tell him I'll be there shortly.”

“I understand, y-young master.”

I paid no mind to her quivering presence, my gaze fixed on my reflection.

And this is exactly why I despise this character, Yes, He is a villain with my name but does it matter, no, the problem is this guy's weight he is so heavy that this tub of lard is weighing me down, literally.

For someone who prides themselves on muscle, nothing's worse than “fat,” and this guy before me? Well, he's a prime example of that.

“I suppose I need a workout.”

Reaching the door, exhaustion gripped me and I found myself gasping for breath. It was unbelievable – this body was so darn heavy.

After an arduous struggle, I finally made my way out of the room, causing servants carrying a litter¹ to scurry over. They lowered it, creating a path for me to step onto it.

I tried to ignore the spectacle – it was this pampering that turned this fatty into a giant tire. Pushing the annoyance aside, I began to move, managing only about 10 steps before my legs gave out.

Damn it. Seriously? I collapsed, leaving the twenty servants to hastily lift me and place me onto the litter. For me, it felt more like a stretcher. There I was, sprawled on it like some mountain, panting heavily.

“You damn god! I hope the protagonist of your favorite novel gets NTRed!”

“We're here, young master.”

Can you believe it? his father's office is just thirty steps away from this pumpkin room, yet he insists on using a litter.

“Give me a hand.”

I ordered while cursing this hefty body under my breath.

“Oh, come, come, my dear child. How was your day?”

I glanced at the middle-aged man, his face exuding warmth and care.

As for my feelings? This old man right here is the reason this chubby exists. Not that I give a darn about my indulgent father.

“I'm alright, Dad.”

Yes, imagine this: as a noble, this old man spoiled this pumpkin so much that he thinks he can go around scolding the mansion's maids and servants.

“Take a seat. Hey, fetch his chair!”

You might wonder why he doesn't sit on a regular chair. Well, that's because the chair is custom-made to accommodate this hippo-sized frame.

“What's going on, Dad?”

Seriously, why would he summon this big old hippo over to his quarters? There's gotta be a reason for it....

“Your fiancee is coming tomorrow”

……………………………………………………………

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