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 Phantom Moon Formation, amidst the wind and snow.


Ye Qinghong held her longsword against the adversary's throat.


Her expression remained as cold as ever.


Her lips were tightly pursed, gazing intently at the demon sect disciple before her, waiting for his answer.


There seemed to be... a hint of expectancy.


The demon sect disciple knelt humbly on the ground, his face full of reverence, seemingly very afraid of Ye Qinghong.


Hands buried in the ice and snow, spiritual energy rippled continuously.


Turning the ice and snow into a solid form.


Finally, it transformed into a blade, a blade made of solidified ice and snow.


"The Demon Lord is your husband. You are indeed your own Mistress."


Ye Qinghong's face remained expressionless, seemingly unmoved, yet her sword-holding hand had tightened considerably once again.


Her icy eyes began to ripple slightly, as if filled with joy, a joy that almost couldn't be hidden and seemed about to overflow.


Chapter 173: Ye Qinghong: I Want to Prepare a Dowry for Myself!_1