Dreaming Through Many Cold Autumns

Tan Shuchang had always considered himself born into a scholarly family and had also been a young star atop the honor roll, a true parasite of the upper class. He should have been holding significant local authority, receiving endless gifts, spending boundless money, enjoying innumerable years, and marrying countless concubines. How had he ended up becoming a demonic cultivator?
After pondering for a long time and still not understanding, he slowly emerged from the pool of blood, deciding to think it over gradually…

Be the Hardest Working Demon Cultivator!

This kind of petty squabble, Tan Shuchang didn't watch for long. Actually, the might unleashed by the two combatants, for someone below the level of Longevity, was indeed top-tier, but he was a True Immortal!


However, just as Tan Shuchang's gaze withdrew, atop this land, he found another familiar figure.


This Black King had completely shed his former appearance from the eerie gaming world and now resembled a middle-aged man with wheat-colored skin, reminiscent of Maitreya Buddha, his shirt unbuttoned and flung open.


His muscles were well-defined, lending him a burly appearance.


In contrast to the encirclement his acknowledged disciple faced, the Black King now had a hermit's demeanor. Around his secluded residence, many people, drawn by his fame, wished to become his disciples.


This starkly different encounter failed to stir the slightest ripple in Tan Shuchang's heart; he merely pondered deeply.


252, the Qi Fortune has finally changed color; it's gold turning to black.