MTL - Starting From the Dragon Clan To Penetrate the World - v2 Chapter 1767 : Origin of Violators Alliance

No NTR-IncestA Boy struggles with the problems of being raised in a family full of lewd older women.

Wen Qing was pulled into an infinite flow game, and after struggling through the first instance, he received a strange buff.

System: 【 All non-human beings will have a good impression of you. PS: ***** 】

Wen Qing asked cautiously: ”What do the asterisks mean?”

System: 【 It means ***** 】

The blocked words are definitely not good at all!

Wen Qing cried: ”Can I refuse this weird buff?”

System: 【 The highest-end hunters often appear in the form of prey. 】

Wen Qing choked. ”Am I the highest-end hunter?”

System: 【 You are the most delicious prey. 】

Wen Qing: ???

- Description from Novelupdates

In the realm of cultivating the nine states, the Taoist court is unified, the aristocratic families are oppressed, the sects are monopolized, and the barriers to Taoism are tight.

The monks at the bottom have no way to practice Buddhism, lack spiritual stones, and have a hard time living.

Ten-year-old Mo Hua was born with a weak body, was born as a Buddhist monk, and came from a poor family.

Even if he practices hard, he may only be a humble ant-like Qi-refining monk throughout his life.

Until a Tao tablet appeared in his sea of ​​consciousness.

You can comprehend the heavenly formations and infinitely enhance your spiritual consciousness.

Ink painting will use the Taoist stele to break down the barriers of Taoism, create supreme spiritual consciousness, fully understand the formations of the Immortal Tao, and strive for the road to immortality…

- Description from novelbuddy

[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.