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 young man could almost smell the faint, ethereal fragrance emanating from the woman's body.


And the woman seemed to be startled into a daze, her face expressionless. The next moment, she would be under his control.


Under his puzzled gaze, it seemed as if a cluster of flames ignited in front of him, a cluster of red flames.


The flames were so bright, so scorching, yet they kept dripping as though they were congealed from fresh blood. The flames themselves were so bizarre, emitting a thick scent of blood that made one involuntarily feel apprehension.


What's more crucial was that the cluster of flames ignited from the center of the woman's forehead.


It resembled a red lotus, starting to shatter slowly.


More and more, increasingly dense, they floated from the woman's forehead, drifting lazily towards him.


387: Master, after you die, you'll belong only to me!_2