Blind Leek

As the owner of an ordinary bookstore, Ling PingAn’s biggest wish was to muddle through life and do absolutely nothing. 
 
However, customers that were right in the middle of their pubescent crisis kept visiting his store in the dead of night.
 
For the sake of his business, Ling PingAn had to mimic their childish tones, sparing no effort to promote the books in his store.
 
When he finally managed to sell his books after going through a great verbal tug-o-war, each and every one of them said that they don’t have money, and that they wish to use various tools that were seemingly divine artifacts as pledge.
 
Looking at these customers, Ling PingAn could only agree to them resignedly.
 
But little did he know that every single book that these customers purchased from him had altered in appearance.
 
“Secrets of Cosplay” became “Lower Abyss Research Report”
 
“Stellaris: Settings for Synth Ascension” was in fact “Gospel for Synthetic Beings”
 
What’s more, in the eyes of these customers, he was actually a horrifying ruler of Diablos, an indefinable entity that held the reins of all realms.
 
In this regard, Ling PingAn said, “I’m not, I didn’t, don’t talk nonsense.
 

I Really Am Not The Lord of Demon

Ling Ping'an was happily eating crab paste.

Suddenly, he raised his head and saw that the guy who had just left, and who seemed to be suffering from perspiration, was being entangled by a stranger at the entrance of the restaurant.

The other party was tugging on that guy's sleeve and crying, as if he was begging for something.

The man who had the perspiration problem was very impatient and directly pushed the stranger to the ground.

"What's going on?" He felt a little confused.

Thinking about it carefully, that guy was also very strange!

He came over abruptly and asked about the breed his cat.

This reminded Ling Ping'an of the sect leader of Tsing-i Tai-Chi whom he met in Jiang City.

He lowered his head and looked at the kitten on his knees.

looking at the little guy's amber cat eyes, "Don't tell me... You're some kind of rare breed?" He asked.

Conscience Hurts