Zhan Yue - Chapter 602: One more White Dragon Sword

Nine heavens and nine earths, there are many souls.

The strong stand in the nine heavens, like shining stars, while the weak creep on the ground like tiny ants.

The young boy Bai Ye accidentally unlocked the mysterious heavenly soul, cultivated supreme soul skills, guarded the soul and sword, rushed into the nine heavens and swept the stars, and the legend began…

- Description from MTL

On her wedding night, Jian Ran met Zhou Huai'an, the man rumored not to like women.After that, she was cautious and humble in front of Xu Zichuan every day.Until that night, when blood flowed and rain poured, she learned the truth.She collapsed in the pouring rain, hugging herself, laughing madly with tears streaming down her face.Then, she slowly bent her proud spine, trampling her dignity into the mud.In the end, when Jian Ran left, Xu Zichuan went mad.Zhou Huai'an kneeled on the ground, “Jian Ran, I was wrong. What must I do for you to return to my side?”

In her third year living in this steampunk world, Ciel gained the ability to simulate both the past and the future.These simulations turned into a game where she could act without restraint, and after countless trials, real life became a replica she could navigate as though speedrunning it.Churches, potions, mutations, the Old Gods, witches, sealed artifacts… none of these have anything to do with Ciel. She’s just an ordinary girl who wishes for a peaceful life.She just happens to be particularly skilled at snuffing out danger before it even begins.

[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.