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 dazzling light tore through the darkness.


Sword enthusiast Ye Qinghong widened his eyes, a moment of bewilderment flashing across his face.


But in the next moment, he realized that it was Sword Qi, countless streams of Sword Qi, almost covering the sky and occupying the whole world.


His Sword Qi of killing hardly counted as a river or even a stream; it was just a drop of water, an insignificant drop of water.


His face was filled with confusion as he looked at the wounds all over his body, quickly realizing that he was about to die.


Looking forward, he saw only a cold figure and the sword in that person's hand.


It seemed as though he had struck, and yet it seemed as if he had not.


His swordsmanship, which he took so much pride in, indeed couldn't even block a single strike.


Chapter 74: The Master of Netherworld!_1