Transmigrated into the Wealthy Family as the Real Young Master, the Crazy Villainous Disciple Won’t Let Me Go

Xi Yu had originally intended to say that he was going traveling, but the place probably had no signal. They

Lu Zhixing’s gaze followed Xi Yu. The room was dimly lit. With his back to him, Xi Yu tossed his

“I of course!!!” Luo Cheng’an put his hands on his hips, but after a pause, he deflated. “I can’t stop

The two of them had both done things that Lanxing hated behind his back. They were grasshoppers tied to the

What was this red outfit he was wearing? Xi Yu snapped his fingers, and a glazed mirror appeared in front

The moment Zhi Yue disappeared, Xi Yu closed his eyes. When he opened them again, he met Lu Zhixing’s worried

Along both sides of the bluestone-paved road, small vendors were calling out to sell their wares. When some of them

The two of them left, and the room became quiet. Xi Yu sat cross-legged on the bed, closed his eyes,

As long as Xi Yu wanted something, no one could refuse him. But in what way was he inferior to

Hearing this, Sang Biao bit down on the ham, then raised one leg and was about to kick Xiaoyu when

Sang Biao was held in his arms. He shifted slightly but showed no sign of waking. “Sorry to bother you…

That was what he meant, right? Xi Yu’s gaze fell on Lu Zhixing, whose arms were wrapped around his neck.

Xi Yu was just about to speak when a moon-white figure appeared around the corner of the corridor. His voice

The two of them were like a cat playing with a mouse, giving off an unmistakably intimate and suggestive atmosphere.

Lu Zhixing said this as he rubbed his face against Xi Yu’s. Lu Zhixing’s body temperature was a little lower

Fu Ye walked inside. The people within moved mechanically, making way for him before kneeling one after another. “Welcome, Holy

This was the sacred artifact bestowed upon him by the gods, the very thing that had allowed his people to

When Luo Chengan heard Xiyu call out Zhiyue’s name, the shock on his face gave way to infatuation. A mist

Look at him. He truly was Xiyu’s disciple. He had spared no cost to resurrect his master. Knowing that his

Fu Ye sat in the bedroom, supported by a broad-shouldered, narrow-waisted man dressed in black brocade. The man’s expression was