Summary
I transmigrated as the Male Lead’s malicious, high-maintenance Master, and then I faked my death to escape. I used to mock and ridicule him, bossing him around with every breath. Eventually, my conscience got the better of me, and I took a fatal sword strike meant for him. Even as I was dying, I couldn’t stop being a drama queen: “This hurts like hell. If I’d known, I wouldn’t have blocked it for you. I hate you most of all!” Then, I successfully faked my death and left that world. By the time I transmigrated back, three hundred years had already passed. Amidst a mountain of corpses and a sea of blood, a pair of blood-stained hands cupped my cheeks. My disciple, now the Demon Lord, embraced me from behind. “Master, could you act spoiled with me again…?”