MTL - The Promotion Record of A Crown Princess - Chapter 101 Oh, I am happy with you! (3)

In this world, there are Buddhas, Taos, demons, demons, and martial arts.

The martial arts system came from Buddhism, and there is a saying that all martial arts in the world came from Buddhism.

Meng Xing was a firewood chopping disciple of Zhenwu Sect of Xiuwu Sect.

After Hyundai Meng Xing crossed over, he started the road of system-assisted cultivation.

Since then, Meng Xing has become a god in the martial arts of the world.

……

Meng Xing met the leader of the Phoenix Fire Sect:

【1. Pretend not to see】

[Second, come forward to flatter, incarnate as a dog licking]

[Third, say to her, “Come here and serve your husband!”]

Meng Xing decisively chose the first option.

The other two are the rhythm of death.

- Description from novelbuddy

Is Magic really just a wish machine? No! In a universe where Magic truly exists, the ultimate nature of Magic must be as simple and aesthetically pleasing as the laws of physics. This is the story of a mass-produced magical war tool who learned the ultimate nature of Magic. But what of it? Just as birds can fly without understanding aerodynamics, magicians can use Magic without grasping its ultimate nature. Learning the ultimate nature of Magic doesn’t mean the tool can instantly transform into a great magician. But yearning for knowledge is a human instinct, and curiosity is the primary driving force of human civilization. Even for Magic, which should seemingly defy explanation, humans hope to understand its inherent operational laws. The pursuit of Magic’s ultimate nature requires no reason! The story in this book takes place in an era where steel and gunpowder dance together. Here, firearms are on the rise; armor remains the main character; military theory is changing rapidly, with endless innovations in systems and techniques. And this world has something more than ours: Magic. The world is undergoing a profound transformation, and no one can remain detached from it...

When the pure lotus provoked her, she slapped her instantly, “It's just a pair of worn-out shoes. If you want them so desperately, take them and wear them.”President Jones intruded with a cheeky face, “Wife, even if they're worn-out shoes, I'd only let you wear them.”“Scram!”...【One man, one woman】Four years ago, she left in fury with the bun in her oven. Four years later—“Uncle, I noticed that your face has a gloomy look, it looks like you have excessive liver heat. It's obvious you lack a wife. Do you want to get to know my mommy?”The president who remained aloof from women looking at his mini-me, his eyes deepened. He immediately packed up the mother and child, and brought them back home, pampered them to the point of annoying everyone.Someone asked, “President Jones, isn't this a bit too unreasonable?”The president smirked coldly, “You expect me to be reasonable when pleasing my wife?”This is a story about an overbearing President Jones, who's fiercely dominant, and unreasonable in pampering his wife.

Amidst the eerie silence of an unfamiliar hall, a cacophony of confused voices rose, mingling in a chorus of bewilderment. “Where are we?” “What happened?” “I thought I died!” Each utterance hung in the air, a testament to the collective disbelief gripping the room.As the haze of confusion lifted, disjointed memories surfaced, fragments of lives cut short by tragedy. “I remember... I was stabbed...” ventured one voice, echoed by another's affirmation of a similar fate. “I... I died in a plane crash,” muttered a third, only to be met with a stunned agreement from a fellow survivor.Amidst the chaos of bewildered voices, one man stood apart, his expression a mask of contemplation amidst the turmoil. As his companions recounted their brushes with death, his mind churned with questions, each more confounding than the last.“I got shot... I remember it vividly,” he murmured to himself, his voice barely audible above the din. “So how am I still here?” The enigma of their shared resurrection gnawed at him, compelling him to seek answers in the depths of his memories.With each revelation of a paired demise—a male and female, bound by the same tragic fate—a flicker of recognition ignited within him. “This... this seems familiar,” he mused, the pieces of a puzzle slowly coalescing in his mind. But the picture remained incomplete, obscured by the fog of uncertainty that shrouded their surroundings.As the words “pairs, pairs, pairs” echoed in his mind like a cryptic mantra, a sudden realization struck him with the force of a revelation. “It can't be... don't tell me...” he whispered, his voice trembling with disbelief. With a sense of urgency, he began to scan his surroundings, searching for any sign or clue that could confirm his suspicions.Then, as if guided by an unseen force, his gaze shifted upwards, and there, bathed in an ethereal light, stood an angelic figure with golden apparel, its gaze fixed upon him with a warm smile. The sight took his breath away, filling him with a mixture of awe and trepidation.The man's heart raced as faced a real angel, his mind struggling to comprehend the surreal encounter unfolding before him. The angel's words, spoken with an air of amusement, only deepened the enigma shrouding their meeting.“I never expected anyone to notice me,” the angel remarked, a hint of playfulness in its voice. “I was concealing my presence to let everyone fully calm down, but to think someone noticed me. Just who are you?”Ethan's disbelief and confusion intensified at the angel's question. “Eh... Ethan Rivers,” he stammered, his voice barely above a whisper.As Aurelia, the angel, finally revealed himself to the bewildered assembly, a hush fell over the room, each soul drawn in by his radiant presence and commanding aura. Ethan's gaze lingered on Aurelia.“Greetings, lost souls,” Aurelia declared, his voice resonating with a majestic power that seemed to fill the very air around them. “I am Aurelia, and I shall be your guide to your new life.”As Aurelia extended his arms in a gesture of welcome, Ethan felt a surge of rage and hesitation, “This it bad, really bad.”