Lady Qiao in Spring

Fang Yang transmigrated to become the leader of a demonic cult, with his powers completely dissipated and his memory lost. All he inherited was a stack of diaries left by the previous demon lord. He discovered that the demon lord was a philanderer, with ex-lovers and admirers everywhere, each of whom harbored deep-seated hatred for him.
In order to survive, he had no choice but to follow the diaries and pretend to be the demon lord, navigating relationships with numerous peerless beauties, trying to dispel their hatred.
"Your Highness, the moon is exceptionally beautiful tonight, why don't we go out to enjoy it together?"
The Princess of Zhen Nan: "?"
"Empress, please be reserved. For the sake of the people of the world, let us part ways here."
The Empress: "??"
"My disciple, give up. It's impossible between us."
Female disciple: "???"
...
From then on, Fang Yang racked his brains and put on a full performance. He maneuvered among many women, striving to keep himself from being raped or killed by them.
As the old saying goes, one woman is equivalent to five hundred crows.
What about ten or twenty?
Fang Yang, covering his ears that were nearly deafened by the noise, looked at the sensual and stunning beauties before him.
He wanted to cry but had no tears...

My Female Disciples All Have Sinister Intentions

The night is like water, the lamplight like gauze.


It envelops the sleeping chambers with a light touch.


The shadows are faint, and the world is blurry. 


Outside the hall, insects chirp and birds cry.


Huang Fuling's actions were so sudden that Fang Yang didn't have time to react before he was pounced upon and pinned to the bed.


At the moment, Huang Fuling wore only a thin undergarment, her skin like jade. Under the moonlight's embrace, it even emitted a faint glow, making her seem like the most exquisite work of art.


Those who practice the Charming Skill are adept at seducing others.


But once they are deeply entangled, they suffer backlash.


Just like Huang Fuling now, her gaze swirling, filled with the ripples of spring, as she lay atop Fang Yang.


Three thousand strands of her hair draped over Fang Yang.


Chapter 41: Scheming (Please follow) _1