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She became the young mistress of the most powerful family in City T by marrying the young master in place of her sister. He was cold to her on their first nuptial night. "Just because you played some tricks to get yourself married here, you still mean nothing to me!" However, she was calm and heartless. "Young Master Mu, don't think too highly of yourself. I despise all that is you — your money and your very being!" After the wedding, Young Master Mu lived lavishly by spending money like flowing during the day while working his nights away busily. "You said you despised me earlier. Well, which part of me do you despise exactly, hmm?" Luo Chenxi could not bear the harassment any longer so she tossed out the divorce papers in rage. "I can't live like this much longer..."

After five years, Ning Xi returned to the place that had pushed her away — home. With a sister who turned her parents against her and made her childhood sweetheart betray her, the odds seemed grey. However, five years abroad had changed her, and she came home to fulfil her childhood dream of becoming an actress. Despite her evil sister still out to get her, tables will be turned. One day, after falling into one of her sister's schemes, she saves an adorable kid and found herself staying at his house to help him come out of his shell. Slowly, his father Lu Tingxiao began falling for her. This was before they realised how their lives had been intertwined all this while without their knowledge.

At her Coming of Age Ceremony when she turned eighteen, she accidentally stumbled into his arms and became the midnight gift for the youngest magnate in C city. They got to know each other inside and out in just one night, and surprisingly, he planted two little buns within her. After the incident, she ran away, and he turned the world upside down looking for her. . Years later, he cornered her on the bed, bent over elegantly yet domineeringly, "Miss Yan, could you tell me where your children came from?" She chuckled, "They were freebies with a phone top-up!" His eyes darkened, "Very well! Then we will top-up again tonight!" . After the words, they played rock-paper-scissors, drew lots, topped up the phone, and he planted another little bun within her!

She always knew there was a woman hidden in his heart, so when that woman appeared, she obediently withdrew. However, unexpectedly, he abandoned his 'beloved' and instead frequently invited her. "Mr. Fu, didn't you say there was a contract to discuss?" He pressed her against the cold wall, continuously approaching: "If you were a bit uglier, perhaps I would want to talk contracts and drink tea with you, but you're so beautiful, I only want to talk love with you." To him, Qiao Mo was like his most cherished treasure, and whenever others looked at her, he felt they were trying to steal her.

[Status: COMPLETED] “Feng Tianyi! Your brother destroyed my Tang family! Is there anything good about your family?” “En. Can’t you see how our good looking genes are passed on to our children? As for the Feng family’s debt, I will pay you.” He said nonchalantly. Tang Moyu scoffed and crossed her arms over her chest. “How will you pay for it?” “How about I repay you with my body?” “...” So shameless! The man sitting on his wheelchair burst into a round of laughter seeing her ugly expression. “Miss Tang, it’s no point pretending you haven’t seen it since you practically climbed on my bed and took advantage of me.” Five years ago, Tang Moyu was the empress of the business world and was at the peak of her career before she was reduced to nothing when her fiance fell in love with another woman. That was okay since there was no love between her and Feng Tianhua, but who would have thought that this ‘Cinderella’ was a wolf in sheep’s clothing? Then there’s Feng Tianyi, the infamous successor of the Feng family, a critically acclaimed author who constantly rocked the bestselling list with his books. Rumors say that he was hot-headed and temperamental. He was so ruthless, that neither men nor women wanted his company. The rumors even say that his face was so handsome and out of this world. He was practically a god amongst men. It was a pity that he was crippled. The two were never meant to meet again, but a pair of sweet little buns intervened. “Uncle, we don’t have money to pay you for damages.” The elder Little Bun said. “My manuscripts are invaluable,” This handsome uncle replied with amusement. “Uncle, if you don’t mind, can we pay with our Mommy? She’s also invaluable.” And so the pair of sweet little buns and the handsome uncle entered an agreement but who would have thought that the woman in question was an ice-cold queen from hell who had a weird affinity with sweets? —— Editor/proofreader: ninaviews Book cover: Bizzybiin / copyright 2020 anjeeriku

She gave up her dream of shining on the ballerina stage —for him. She sacrificed her self-respect —for him. She forgot her true identity —for him. But even after all that, she couldn’t compare to the woman who held Ryan’s heart. Arwen Quinn, heiress of prestigious Quinn family, realized too late that no matter what she did, she would never win Ryan’s love. The future that awaited her was a life trapped in endless misery of a loveless marriage. So, decisively, she ends their relationship and walks away. What she didn’t expect was that in breaking free from Ryan, she had opened the door for Aiden to enter her life — a chance that he had been waiting for. Aiden Winslow, an enigmatic CEO isn’t just mysterious —he is determined, and won’t allow to take Arwen away from him again. ____ Excerpt: Aiden narrowed his eyes, “Are you sure about this?” “If I wasn’t sure, I wouldn’t have asked,” Arwen replied coolly. “Stop dawdling. If you’re unwilling, I’ll find someone else who can get the marriage certificates today.” His expression darkened as he pulled her close. “Once offered to me, it’s mine alone.” Unfazed, Arwen asked, “So, do you accept? If yes, we’ll get the certificates now.” “On one condition,” he said. “I don’t do contract marriages. The woman I marry will be the woman I share my bed with. If you agree, then we’ll—” “Not a problem. Let’s go,” Arwen said without letting him finish, pulling him into the Civil Marriage Bureau.

Global Survival: 100 Times Cultivation Speed From The Start

It all began with a poor orphan who would work every day for long hours to pay for his Aunt's medical bills. When his life begins to fall apart and he is homeless sleeping in an alleyway he hears a robotic voice. {Do you wish to integrate with the Dungeon System} "Yes" he answers, without much to lose. And from then his life had never been the same. He was taken into a dungeon each night to hunt and he began to realise just how little he really knew about the world that was much wider than he thought. Discord Server: https://discord.gg/TtnGfdKanr Note: I do not own cover art

This is a story of a guy who loses everything, and then gets it back. Same old new world story, just a different kind of story teller. *** They took away our hunter tags. They had us grow our hair. They gave us a new brand, when we were over there. They staged us out of Dragur, East of the Olim Horn. I guess they call us Slaves, but no one calls us much anymore. There is no fun in killing. I don't want to do it anymore. Karn brought Sorrow. Pookie brought Fear. Milk brought the fly boys. They did work in Undia. I worked mostly clandestine. Some Legends I should not say. We played with better wands. I could use the extra pay. Did Mara give the order? Did venom pay the way? They said we were slaying demons, but it was kind of hard to tell. There is no fun in killing. I don't want to do it anymore. This was before HALO, and Codex was king. Hej atop the rider, he never felt a thing. When our rider caught a spell, and both the mages killed. It pitched us over sideways on some cold Sylph hill. My back felt like it was broken, my legs I could not feel. I kept on slaying demons, but it was kind of hard to tell. There is no fun in killing. I don't want to do it anymore. I never did heal up right from injuries sustained Officially in Torin, unofficially we train. I remember all their faces. They dream about me still. I guess I'm slaying demons, but it's kind of hard to tell. There no fun in killing. I don't want to do it anymore. I speak the cold logistic, that old boys speak so well. Veni, Vedi, Vici. I'll see you in Hel. Maybe it's bravado, or an unspeakable guilt. That village, they were demons, but it was kind of hard to tell. There is no fun in killing. I don't wanna to do it anymore. I've done plenty. What is one more? -Corb Lund *** Come guess me this riddle. What beats shire leaves and fiddle? What is hotter than pleasures touch, and whiter than cream? What best wets his whistle? What is clearer than crystal? What is sweeter than honey and stronger than steam? What will make the lame walk? What will make the dumb talk? What is the elixir of life and philosopher's stone? And what helped Pookie-Baba dig up a tunnel, that runs from Shalamanda to West-Torin? When you are digging a crater, It is the best thing in nature, for sinking your sorrows and raising your joys. Sometimes I wonder, if lightning and thunder, is made out of the plunder, of the reddest hiski and oils. *** If you can keep your head when all about you, are losing theirs and blaming it on you. If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you, but make allowance for their doubting too. If you can wait and not be tired by waiting, or being lied about, don’t deal in lies, or being hated, don’t give way to hating, And yet don’t look too good, nor talk too wise. If you can dream, and not make dreams your master. If you can think, and not make thoughts your aim. If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster, and treat those two impostors just the same. If you can bear to hear the truth you’ve spoken, twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools, or watch the things you gave your life to, broken, and stoop and build them up with worn-out tools. If you can make one heap of all your winnings, and risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss and lose, and start again at your beginnings, and never breathe a word about your loss. If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew, to serve your turn long after they are gone, and so hold on when there is nothing in you; Except the Will which says to them ‘Hold on!’ If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue, nor walk with Kings, nor lose the common touch. If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you. If all men count with you, but none too much. If you can fill the unforgiving minute, with sixty seconds worth of distance, run. Yours is the World and everything that’s in it, and which is more you’ll be a Man, my son. - Rudyard Kipling

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