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A Gorgeous White (BL)

( An LGBT+ novel) Ending your life isn't the right decision. Moulin didn't believe this saying until he did it. Moulin, a depressed shut-in digital writer, transmigrates into the frail body of a spoiled young master. Unknown to him, he was swallowed by the fear of death. This time, he intends to start a new beginning and relive his life carefully. Waking within the frigid confines of a cave of ice. Nightly whispers of guidance and so much more. The power of unknown origin... An unusual world where special people possess elemental powers and thriving magical beasts, A cute meng selling snow-white fox, A crowd of overprotective people, and a powerful yet impressively annoying person...a stressful Moulin massaged his forehead. This couldn't possibly get any worse... Moumou: My body doesn't feel right...( secretly inspects lower body) Moumou: ...@$%#!!!! An Evil Lion: My love, our bed has gone cold... Moumou: (#ง'̀-'́)ง... Warning this novel includes the following: 1. Smut 2. Gore 3. Inappropriate language Publish dates: Monday, Wednesday, and Friday (Sporadic if I get busy ╥﹏╥) || I M P O R T A N T N O T I C E! || This novel is inspired by several BL novels• If you do not like reading LGBTQ+ novels please avoid reading this• This author is trying her best!• Enjoy! The cover is originally is drawn by yours truly º^º *hehe want a commission?*

Heather_ANARE · Fantaisie
Pas assez d’évaluations
458 Chs

|| Chapter 263 || Sound The Horns

A fierce arrow pierces through the air. It hissed sharply and swiftly stabbed the central mark of the target. 

A faint gust of wind surrounds the lone figure standing at the center of the empty arena. Moulin's white hair elegantly flutters behind him. Normally, it was braided. However, Moulin could only sigh because of one overly attentive woman as his typical hairstyle was altered. The side of his head was braided to his scalp. The two braids met at the center of the back of his head, letting the longer part of his hair cascade down his back. Moulin wasn't used to such style. However, he wasn't bothered by it, for his vision would no longer be covered by his bangs.

Moulin rolled his shoulders and reached for another arrow from his quiver, slung against his back. His hand only grasped empty air, and he realized he had used up all the arrows. As his gaze returned to the rows of round targets in front of him, Moulin sighed. Perhaps, he'll take a break.