Whispers of Worlds Beyond: A Series - Chapter 141: Orchestral Symphony [6]

In the shadowed halls of the Nether Blossom Sect and the treacherous expanse of the cultivation world, mastery is a dance of power, lust, and betrayal.True enlightenment lies not in forcing the path, but in weaving ambition with desire until the cultivator becomes one with their schemes.Only when the line blurs between ally and enemy, pleasure and pain, does one glimpse the ruthless truth of the dao.Lin Fengyang, a spark in a realm of predators, forges his ascent through cunning and will.His enemies plot in whispers, their blades hidden in smiles, but he’ll carve his legend across sects, empires, and heavens, one step, one scheme, one conquest at a time.In this cultivation world, trust is a lie, and every touch is a gambit. He is the schemer of shadows, the breaker of chains, and the bane of those who underestimate him.Read now to witness a tale of dark cultivation, where ambition burns brighter than any flame.

Gold, wood, water, fire, earth, wind and thunder are the seven elements in the world.Everything in the world is made up of one or more of them.As long as the structure is set up, and then according to a certain proportion, in a specific position, add the right amount of elemental energy with different attributes, you can create everything in the world!And, I, Xiao Ye, am the master of the elements. …… ……Young Ling Chen awakens a mysterious physique, and from then on, he defeats the geniuses, kills the heroes, and dominates the world!Ling Chen: Sorry, I am the kind of genius you hate the most!

Why does Ryunosuke Yusheng commit suicide frequently?

Why did Tohsaka Tokiomi hunt down his disciple?

Why doesn’t Jin glitter cooperate with the emperor?

Why is my king homeless?

Behind all this, is the distortion of human nature or the loss of morality.

Please read this book, a man who plays tricks by comics.

- Description from novelbuddy

[Longevity + Discipleship + No Female Lead + Lighthearted Humor with No Tragic Moments]When his master picks food, he spins the table there;When his master chants spells, he chats without a care;When his master takes rest, he sings a lively song;When his master lies late, he bangs the pot along;His master lives on long, but his life is rather short;His master lays him down on the hillside, as a sort;His master lifts a cup, but he won’t take a drink;His master shares a tale, but he won’t stop to think;His master holds a feast, but he leaves the table wide;His master calls his soul, but he’s nowhere to abide.Spring returns to the hills, with blooms so bright and fair,Yet master and disciple are parted, one in heaven, one elsewhere.