You Cultivate, I Farm - Chapter 1112: White Ape Breakthrough

A false Sword Saint: Faintly discernible Martial Art and a matchless Sword Art. Killing one man with every ten steps, no traces left behind in ten miles.

A genuine Sword Saint: A deep and resounding bloodline, peerless strength, an inexhaustible power and one chop to destroy the world.

This is the story of a Swords Saint taking the path of a tank who cuts everything down on his path.

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Waking up from a nightmare several hours before dawn, Belle fetched a drink of water.

She paused in front of her kitchen’s window when she noticed a lit lantern in front of her mansion’s garden. Her butler stood there, shovel in hand. This was no hour to be gardening.

Curious, she made her way outside, but when she had gotten close enough to see a large and hollow pit next to her eternally-stoic and polite butler, she saw him pick up a rotten body.

A DEAD BODY!

Her eyes widened fearfully when she saw her handsome butler drop the rotting body into the fresh hole. She asked in horror, ”What are you doing?!“

Surprised to see his young miss awake at this hour, he stared at her with the same expression he had been keeping up for all these years. He had made sure she was asleep before coming here.

“Gardening.”

“And the body?!”she looked at him in disbelief.

“Fertilizer,” he answered her before picking up the shovel that was on the ground. Belle was now certain something had possessed her butler. Who gardened dead bodies?!

She then heard him ask her, “Want to help me in planting it, Miss Adams?” he gave her a sweet smile.

Note: If you enjoy a book of comedy with light-hearted romance and a gothic background. This book is for you~

This is just a simple, sweet romantic moments.From A Silent Voice, I Want to Eat Your Pancreas, Your Name, Saekano: How to Raise a Boring Girlfriend, My Teen Romantic Comedy SNAFU, Durarara, and etc

The wind follows the dragon, the cloud follows the tiger, fame and fortune, dust and soil

Looking at Shenzhou, the people are suffering, thousands of miles of fertile land are barren

Look at the world, make all the hustlers, and make up for the incompleteness of heaven

Good man, don’t be parents, only for the common people, not for the Lord

Holding ninety-nine steel knives, killing Hu Erfang

I am a dignified man, why am I a barbarian as a horse and an ox

The strong man drank the wine in his bowl, and he traveled thousands of miles without looking back

The golden drums roared in unison, everyone roared, never breaking the Huanglong oath!

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In the eleventh year of the Shunzhi reign in the pseudo-Qing Dynasty, Zhou Shixiang, a Han from Xinhui in Guangdong, said, “My Han man will never be a slave!”

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