webnovel

How Young Master Quan Pursues His Wife

This is a hot-blooded story. This is a story of growth. # Mo Shangjun, after an extraordinary encounter with a cunning fox, was as beautiful as a vase. Rumor had it, she was capricious, crafty, a living rogue! Ya Tianxing, the mysterious captain of the Ace Special Warfare, was as handsome as a devil. Rumor had it, he was callous, brutal, a living tyrant! In reality— Both were high-level "appearance supremacists"! The day they met, she was hanging onto Ace's shoulder with a hooligan’s flair, yet her words were earnestly persuasive, "If you want me, it's not impossible, but first, you've got to pay with your charm!" "Deal!" The gavel came down. Thus, the emotional journey of the old fox and the young rogue began amidst a different type of fervor. # This is the story of two fiends, and when fiends clash head-on, if they want to avoid a life-or-death struggle, then the only option is to enjoy a thorough feast! This is also a story of youthful ardor, with blood and tears. When the youth facing no regrets meets an increasingly powerful nation, what reason do we have not to be passionately stirred? # We love our country, so we have no regrets drenching our past weaknesses with sweat; We love our country, so we selflessly guard the lives of strangers with our blood. ——Mo Shangjun # [The Chapter of Passion] "Relying on oneself is too exhausting. Having a belief makes life a bit easier." ——What is your belief? ——You.

Fruit Store's Bottle · Urban
Not enough ratings
716 Chs

074, Be honest, I'll make you a delicious meal [Second Update]_1

Ten minutes ago, the house was bustling with noise; now, it was enveloped in silence.

In one corner of the house stood two figures, ramrod straight. A gentle breeze blew by, causing their clothing to flutter gracefully in the wind, tracing beautiful arcs through the air.

Mo Shangjun stood beneath the eaves in a cool shaded area, idly standing there with her gaze fixed straight ahead, eyeing the man's chin and the alluring Adam's apple.

Ya Tianxing stood in the sunlight. The warm March sun was soft and warm, casting a comforting glow on him. Light slanted into his eyes, instantly dispelling any trace of his usual cold detachment to be replaced by a deep warmth, as if it could melt frozen tundras and age-old ice.

Ya Tianxing made his movements very gently, his fingers weaved through Mo Shangjun's hair, tidying the strands one by one. Gradually, her disheveled hair was combed neat and hung down smoothly.