Reborn : Space Intelligent Woman - Chapter 19: 1000 Years Old Ginseng

You feel your strength is insufficient, Strength +1.You have practiced the Golden Bell Shield, Martial Arts Level +1.You have picked up a volume of Taoist scripture, Understanding +1.Your opponent is extraordinarily strong. The Golden Bell Shield has reached Great Perfection. You combined the Golden Bell Shield, Iron Cloth Shirt, and Thirteen Cross Training, all +1, and mastered the Vajra Indestructible Divine Skill. Your opponent's knife cannot harm you and is utterly devastated. ...

To take a dragon's hoard is to challenge death.The greatest of the sea-drakes wakes, curled on his silver throne; but there is no silver. His hoard is stolen. He rises, screaming, and chases the thief to the ends of the world—only to be shot from the sky.But dragons do not die easy, and never one with such festering hatred. A dungeon core rises from his corpse.If he intends to survive so near the cove of pirates that slew his past self, he'll need to master his powers—and quickly. For these pirates are dragonslayers; they won't be felled by mere mushrooms or spiders.Beneath the lawless Calarata, the young dungeon core will have to fight to survive; and one day, he will return death to the man who killed him.

When the new snow begins, the full moon will be in the sky

The shadows are tiled below

Shining silver on it

And you walked towards me with a smile

Between the moon and snow

You are the third stunning color

——Yu Guangzhong “Stunning Color”

- 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.