Regressor Instruction Manual - Chapter 203: Heroes Are Made

Offered as a bride to Hades at the age of eighteen.

Pestered by evil spirits in the day, and taken advantage of by a perverted demon at night.

Pervert: “Dear, a night with you is worth more than gold.”

I leaned away as I clenched my teeth angrily: “Worth my foot!”

- Description from Novelupdates

Due to the machination of her boyfriend (Yi Jinxi) and “bestie” (Zhong Yi) , Xu Luosang who used to be a noble lady of a rich family was reduced to hiding her identity in order to rise up again. Her fiance put her father in jail and all that love turned to hate. So she lies about her age, hides her beauty and starts working as a carer in order to regain her power so she could save her father.

Our story begins with her nursing Nian Junting, a high-handed and narcissistic president, who suffered an accident and is unable to move and also unable to get it up. Being a man-child, the words he says are always the opposite of what the other party wants.

She thought their relationship was nothing more than a deal, so she left continuing her plans in her revenge, but time proved that he really loved her. He kept pestering her shamelesly, even obtaing a marriage certificate. His righteosness and fairness charmed her in time…..but will he make her fall in love again?

His sister: “Luosang must have reaped a significant amount of bad karma in her past lives to have been fancied by her brother.”

Him: “If I make Zhong Yi fall into the water every day, will you kiss me and feed me every day?”

Luosang’s mouth corners twitched slightly. ‘Really? Are you jealous of a dog?’

- 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.