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

She took a deep breath and finally seemed to make a decision, pointing her finger out.


In an instant, snow began to flutter in front of her, the snowflakes dancing wildly, and ultimately forming a mirror, a mirror made of condensed snowflakes.


Crystal clear, it looked so dazzling, so bright.


It was the Mirror of the Heart, able to clearly reflect what was in her heart.


She wanted to take a good look, to see what had happened, how her resolve had changed.


The ice mirror trembled, initially shrouded in a layer of mist, but as Guan Qinghan gazed upon it, the mist gradually dissipated, and before long, it vanished without a trace.


It was a palace, a black palace, emitting an overwhelming stench of blood, and within that palace, under the flickering lights, a figure sat on a throne.


His black robe billowed, hair cascading over his shoulders.


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