MTL - Raising a Bun with a Daily Life System - Chapter 140

Countless planets, endless cultivation.

The struggle for the Dao has persisted for thousands of years.

Miao Xiaojing, a junior disciple of the Evolutionary Immortality Sect, suffered the destruction of his sect, and was thrown into the vast river of fate.

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He rose from abjection and achieved eternity in glory.
He embraced the prettiest beauties and killed the strongest opponents.
He was able to shift the clouds into rain and cover the sky with one hand.
He could overrun the entire world and go anywhere as he pleased.
He pacified wars and held the world in awe.
He was matchless in the world.
However, his hair turned white overnight for his beloved woman and he was on the verge of death.
He was surrounded by enemies who were trying to take his life.
He struggled his way to become mighty and fought for everything he cherished.
For this age, he was the only king of the Dark World.
His name was a byword for might.
As a man living in the world, his only ideal was to pursue brilliance.

I have a childhood friend.

Collecting legendary antiques, retracing the mysterious martial arts. From the moment he activated his cheat, Casio knew that he was no longer ordinary.[Legendary Antiques: Wind Elephant Ivory Pendant]Seventy years ago, in the North Flow Country of the Hong Li Federation, at the Wind Elephant Gate Youth Training Camp.“Li Wei, you are a coward! On the day your sister was brutally murdered, you were trembling in a corner! On the night of the Sect Destruction War, you disgracefully fled! During the many long years of revenge, you missed the opportunity again and again!”“Now let me teach you what bravery is, let me tell you how to turn suffering into your power. I hope at the moment you behead your enemy, you will remember: you are a man, an upright man!”The taboo era, hidden legends. A Foggy continent paralyzed by the sealed land. Countless brilliant antiquities wail in the ruins.I will witness your lost legends in the mist, the knights in the sky, the ghosts in the desert, the rats in the mud. The direction of sword fights points to the light, and flowers will grow where bullets fall. The winds of history will eventually sweep away the rubbish from the era's gravesite.