webnovel

The Princess and Her Rough-Rider Khan

Petite Princess VS Rough Khan On their wedding day, Yelu Yan told Li Xianyun that apart from affection, he could provide her with endless wealth and honor. After the marriage, he indeed kept his promise, cherishing her in the palm of his hand. Little did he know, the more he cherished her, the deeper she burrowed into his heart, right to the very top. Not long after the political marriage with the Khitans, Li Xianyun gradually noticed earth-shattering changes around her: Initially, the commoners who disliked her began to worship her as a deity... The court officials accusing her of bewitching their lord were now pleading with her to consummate the marriage with the Khan... The most perplexing of all was her husband in name; wasn’t he the one who said he wouldn't give her emotional affection? Why was he always following her around? Little theater scene 1: One day, Yelu Yan cornered Li Xianyun against the wall. “Why are you avoiding this Khan?” “They say you might have taken a liking to your servant.” “Remove ‘might’, isn’t it obvious enough from how this Khan acts?” “But you said you wouldn’t give your servant emotional affection.” Yelu Yan held his forehead; he had indeed said too many foolish things. “The Han people always say that one should start a family and then establish a career; clearly, the two are not in conflict.” Little theater scene 2: The sun had risen high, yet Yelu Yan was still clinging to Li Xianyun. “Get up quickly, I have to leave. There are patients on the street waiting for my consultation, the good fields to the west need irrigation, the homestead plots in the east need measuring, and I have to oversee the silk reeling and dyeing... Uh...” “Your husband is a patient, don’t you care for him?” Li Xianyun looked at the man tough enough to rival ten bulls and was utterly speechless.

Fruit Jelly · 歴史
レビュー数が足りません
578 Chs

171 Can you curse the woman of this Crown Prince? (Second update)

Murong Ce placed a hand to his mouth, making a gesture for silence.

Among the four people tied to the pillars, three no longer made any sound, but the small boy, only four or five years old, had seen his grandfather die a horrible death and his father get his eye stabbed out, blood flowing freely. He had long been scared out of his wits.

He used all his strength to scream as though his heart were tearing and his lungs were splitting.

His young and shrill voice filled the vast chamber.

Murong Ce closed his beautiful, phoenix-like eyes briefly in annoyance at the noise.

He grabbed a dart from the table and swiftly threw it.

The small boy was killed instantly, the dart piercing his throat.

"Ah—Ah—"

The family members screamed, especially the boy's mother, who glared at Murong Ce with venom as she desperately yelled, "You're a beast, you won't die a good death, your wife and children will not die a good death either... Oh..."