MTL - Wuxia: The Identity of My Dragon Head Has Been Exposed - Chapter 467

Would you play the universally disliked character in a romance reality show for a million? Xu Qingyan's answer is: Hesitating for even a second is disrespectful to money.Being cursed and trending online, Xu Qingyan says it doesn't matter; after all, you can't abandon money for the sake of saving face, right?Director: “Don't feel any psychological burden.”Xu Qingyan: “Director, I feel this line isn't mean enough.”Director: “Don't worry, just let loose and act.”Xu Qingyan: “No problem, Director. I'll act naturally, and show you what devotion means.”.......Xu Qingyan: You all see me messing around every day, but you don’t see my hardworking lifestyle, my late-night studies, or the way I kindly interact with others.You can't see it! Because I've never done it.Netizen: “What a satisfying read, time to be discharged from the hospital.”.......The rising pop princess, Lin Wanzhou, had a gap in her heart, a sorrowful little secret about an unrequited love. In the blink of an eye, the object of her affection was on a romance show, getting ambiguous with a rival she had once defeated.The washed-up pop princess, Mu Chan, initially wanted to just frustrate Lin Wanzhou, but didn't expect to get caught up...In the twenty-sixth spring of her life, she fell for someone, and could never let go since.May you be well, with a bright future ahead.

She was a medical genius from the Noah Medical Academy as well as a drug producing specialist. After sleeping for three days, she had returned to the ancient era and become the loyal marquis palace’s ignorant and silly young miss.

[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.