I See How Charming All Living Beings Are

The calamity of the Golden Toad Immortal's ninth life turned out to be a bad card thrown at the gambling table of fate. After falling from the clouds into the mire, he turned into a skin full of pimples, looking like a despised toad spirit. The gossip in the world of cultivation is sharper than a poison-quenching needle. The phrase "the most disgusting toad" is wrapped in frost and burrows into the cracks of human bones. But the monstrous cultivation level hidden in his palm is like a red-hot iron. No matter how harshly someone scolds him, he doesn't dare to approach him - those who talk about "ugly" have long since become a wisp of wronged souls under the sword, and they can't even find the way to reincarnation. Until that day, he bumped into a face. He clearly looked like the reincarnation of his benefactor, but now he was lying with his eyes closed, becoming an unconscious little junior brother. He held the stolen jade pendant between his fingertips, feeling the cold jade warmth against his hot heartbeat, as if he had stolen someone's heart. A smile appeared on his lips, but he couldn't tell whether it was pride or sadness: "Want to find the reincarnation flower? It's not difficult. I just cured him. This person must be my Taoist companion." The jeers and laughter from the surrounding people almost lifted the roof. Who didn't think it was a toad that was dreaming about swan meat? It was a ridiculously wishful thinking. But they didn't see the clenched fists in his sleeves, and the nails were about to dig into his flesh - that humble thought was originally a spark hidden under the layers of ugly skin. When the wind blew, it became more intense. The twin flowers in the crater of the volcano of life and death bloom as fiercely as fire, like two clusters of wildfires that cannot be burned out. Seven hundred years of cultivation have been completely scattered, faster than quicksand slipping through your fingers. When he walked out of the wreckage on the ground, his bones were reshaped little by little, all the knots on his body were gone, and he looked like a man who confounded all sentient beings. But there was no joy in those eyes. He only held a piece of blood-stained jade pendant, and smiled colder than ice: "It's time to pay back the humiliation of the past twice as much." The face of this world changes faster than turning the pages of a book. "Ask the Immortal to accept a disciple!" "Is the position of Taoist Companion... Still vacant?" "Actually... The way he looked before was a bit naive." The little prince of the peacock tribe, the sword master who practiced the ruthless way, the beautiful nine-tailed fox demon, the frightening demon king... The ugly monsters that were once trampled in the mud suddenly became the white moonlight that everyone held in their hands. The aloof sword master blocked his way with red eyes. The beggar who was a beggar seven hundred years ago is now a god, but he is willing to lower his head and become a subordinate. Only Si Ming shook his head and sighed in the clouds, the life book he was twisting on his fingertips was filled with moisture: "This calamity has come with a lot of 'True Fragrance' drama. It's really... Ridiculous." Love and hate are the most careless things in the world. Yesterday I thought he was too ugly to look at, but today I think he is so beautiful that he is bone-crushing. But how could others taste the feeling in his heart? Just like the blood stains on the jade pendant, the redness can be washed away, but the coldness in the bones cannot be washed away. Ancient dog-blood literature Any extreme control party is prohibited from entering. Short and medium stories The character of any character is not perfect. You can criticize the author, but you cannot criticize my protagonist. Pay attention to demining: In the early stage, it was disliked by thousands of people, but in the later stage, it became the favorite of all people. Staged 1v1 between receiving and multi-attacking Forward attack undecided We are all pure from body to heart There is no possibility of ambiguity. The author himself hates ambiguity. Intention: Don't be angry, don't be crazy, don't complain