A typical cliché High School love story is one where the guy gets the girl, they have a few issues and they overcome them so they live happily ever after, right?
Well this is nothing of such.

Danielle Anderson is a High School senior who plans on getting through her final year without the drama and problems. Little did she know that the past would come back to her in form of a Childhood Best friend and Crush.

Daniel Turner, teen basketball star, looks that can make any girl swoon, attitude of a bright young man, transfers to Danielle’s school and they rekindle a love story that was buried due to doubts.

With Love, Exes, Betrayals, and Self-discovery, Will Daniel and Danielle succumb to the pressure, insecurity and self doubt they have? Or will they overcome it all and have a “Happily Ever After” ending?

Warning: *Cringe Worthy Parts*
                  *Mild Swearing*

All Rights Reserved.

It was already the afternoon and Angeal, Arlo, Arvid, Frey, and Dharvey were already having their classes. Usually in the afternoon, each of them would be having their major classes of their degree so they don't usually meet each other unless they plan to go home together.
Angeal was in her Stylistics class, listening to Professor Leon. He was already telling the class what tasks they would be doing for the week, already giving them what they would have to do today.
It was also known to the class that Professor Leon is Angeal's father. When they knew about it through rumors that spread ironically from the faculty room, the people who knew were surprised and now understood why their resemblance is uncanny.
Angeal looked like the female version of Professor Leon. Other than that, they both share the same interest in writing—the difference is that Professor Leon lived to teach how to write, and Angeal learned to make stories.
"Now," Professor Leon said as he wrote two titles of a poems on the board, the eyes of the students focused on it. "We would be doing The Passionate Shepherd and The Nymph's Reply."
When the students read the two titles on the board, most of them weren't familiar of the titles. They stared at Professor Leon expectantly, waiting for him to explain further what they are about to do for today's class.
Since this is Stylistics class, the students already expected what they were about to do.
Stylistics is a branch of applied linguistics concerned with the study of style in texts, especially, but not exclusively, in literary works.
Also called literary linguistics, stylistics focuses on figures, tropes, and other rhetorical devices used to provide variety and a distinctness to someone's writing.
If not a short story or a novel to study, sometimes, poems can be used for literary studies in Stylistics.
"We will be studying two poems today namely, 'The Passionate Shepherd To His Love' by Christopher Marlowe, and "The Nymph's Reply To The Shepherd' by Sir Walter Raleigh. For further information, Christopher made his poem in the year 1599, and Walter's, in the year 1600."
As everyone was about to reach out to their phones for them to do a research, Professor Leon called out their attention by clapping his hands thrice, surprising most of his students to stop them from using their smartphones.
"Hey, if you search everything on the net, what will you learn?" he reprimanded, everyone's eyes on him as he leaned on his desk, continuing to speak. "You are to study two poems, correct? We have discussed about ways on how to study poems the other day, now I want you to do just that."
With what Professor Leon had instructed, everyone got their notebook instead, getting a piece of paper at the same time to jot down what they have observed from the two poems.
"Since you are given two poems, you are going to do comparing and contrasting. Once you start, you would find it interesting—the connection of the two poems," he said further as he flashed on the white board the two poems, beside each other.
The moment the two poems flashed before the students, most of them smiled, seeing how each stanza of the different poems came out to be replying to each other.
"Now with what I told you, you are given the whole period to do your study about the poems. Five minutes before the bell rings, submit your papers then you are free to go."
With the instructions now finalized, everyone went silent as they read the poem, the students already making notes before doing an in-depth analysis of each.
Angeal, however, read each poem at the same time, reading one stanza for the other, and another stanza for the second. In this way, she would see how the two poems were connected.
***
THE PASSIONATE SHEPHERD TO HIS LOVE
First:
Come live with me and be my Love,
And we will all the pleasures prove
That hills and valleys, dale and field,
And all the craggy mountains yield,
THE NYMPH'S REPLY TO THE SHEPHERD
First:
If all the world and love were young,
And truth in every shepherd's tongue,
These pretty pleasures might me move
To live with thee and be thy love.
***
From the first stanzas of the two poems, Angeal wrote on her notes the two characters namely the shepherd and the nymph. Since the poem was made in 1599, obviously, the poem by Sir Walter Raleigh was made to reply to the poem Christopher Marlowe had done.
***
THE PASSIONATE SHEPHERD TO HIS LOVE
Second:
There will we sit upon the rocks
And see the shepherds feed their flocks,
By shallow rivers, to whose falls
Melodious birds sing madrigals.
THE NYMPH'S REPLY TO THE SHEPHERD
Second:
Time drives the flocks from field to fold.
When rivers rage and rocks grow cold;
And Philomel becometh dumb;
The rest complain of cares to come.
***
From what Angeal has read from the first poem, she deduced that it was a pastoral lyric—a poetry that expresses emotions in an idyllic setting. It is associated with Shepherds writing music to their flocks. The tradition goes back to David in the bible and Hesiod, the Greek poet.
As for the Nymph's Reply to the Shepherd, Angeal has yet to read more in order for her to deduce what else she would find out.
"Hmm…" 
Angeal tapped the tip of her pen on the table as she blankly stared at the poem by Sir Walter Raleigh, mumbling to herself at the same time. 
"This is more than just a reply."
"That's right."
When Professor Leon spoke, Angeal was startled for a bit as she did not notice that the professor was actually behind her, getting everyone's attention as each student looked at their instructor.
"The poem by Sir Walter Raleigh is more than just a reply to the shepherd. Look closely—read between the lines. Look at its theme—look at the words used. Do not only skim above the surface."
With his reminder said, he continued walking about in the room, the students continuing their task at hand. 
Angeal then continued reading the following stanzas of the poems, in hopes that she would understand what she was missing.


"Devin, do you love me?"

Hearing her question that had snapped him out of his thoughts, the Soul Eater opened his eyes slowly to meet her blue eyes once more. He smiled foolishly as his right hand reached out to her face, his thumb caressing her bottom lip.

"Is that a question you dare ask your husband?"

Angeal pouted like a child. 

"Tell me you love me... or I’ll cry."

Devin chuckled, making Angeal pout more as she narrowed her eyes at him. When Devin ceased his jovial laughter, he didn’t answer her question. Instead, he bent down as he pulled her closer to him, his lips smoothly landing on hers to give her a loving kiss. 

’I love you, Angeal. Before I even knew it, my heart yearned for you.’

~

Punished by the Almighty Seraphim, Devin was branded a fallen angel and was given a curse to become a Soul Eater—a being who is hungry for souls and feeds on them for sustenance.

Devin was bound on earth, looking for clues on how to cure his irrevocable curse until a desperate old man saw the Soul Eater and begged him to save his newborn granddaughter’s life.

However... it comes with the price of selling both of their souls. 

With the old man giving both of their lives to the Soul Eater, what path lies ahead for Angeal as she grows in a house full of magical immortals?

~

The Almighty Seraphim sighed, shaking herself from her thoughts. She then spoke, planting more curiosity in the mind of the Dominion who was watching over the Soul Eater. 

"Continue watching over them. She is his cure, but it will lead her to oblivion.”

~

With the Soul Eater cursed and with them eventually knowing that the sweet innocent girl he saved is the cure, will their relationship be a boon or a bane?

Will they perhaps have sweet love, forbidden love... or maybe even both?

With the given thoughts at hand, will fate bless their lives... or curse them even more?

Let us know the answers to these questions as we unravel the story of Angeal being the Soul Eater’s Possession.

~

[WARNING: Some chapters may contain mature R-18 content.]

[FYI: This book is also a SLOW BURN romance. If you don’t appreciate slow burns, feel free to take a chance on this book if you want to. *wink*]

Volume 1: Nunc Domum
When the Soul Eater, Devin, and his personal servant, Ivar, found no clues about the curse, they finally went home after 18 years. However, when the two arrived in the mansion, Devin's curse suddenly went amok when he met the human girl, Angeal. What could be the girl's involvement in his curse?

Volume 2: Est Ignotum
As the immortals and the mortals spent their days with each other, they are more confused than ever with not only with the feelings they have for a certain person, but also with their background, with their loyalty, and with what lies ahead. To them, there are a lot of things that are unknown...

Volume 3: Actio Culmen Cadentia
The peak of their lives had finally arrived as secrets and revelations, stirring their judgments and what they believe in. As they all go on with their lives, what will they decide for others, and of course, for themselves?

Volume 4: Et Requiem
With all the events that had transpired, each one of them had started to question one's judgment and decisions. Now that these actions had been falling, what will Devin, Angeal, and everyone do to face what's ahead of them?

Volume 5: Insidiamini Torquet
Everyone's lives are now practically caught in series of unexpected twists and turns. As they are to face the challenges that are thrown at them, what would everyone do as everyone is in it for a shocking revelation about their fate? Will they fight for friendship, freedom, or for love?

~

Update Schedule:
Every first day of the month, story ends on December 2021.

Cover commissioned to: Chainslock

Entry for Webnovel Spirity Awards Spring 2020

Want to further show your support? Send me a ko-fi~! ^^
Link: https://ko-fi.com/mysticamy

"Seiji, what did you say to that girl?"
When he returned to where Mika and Chiaki were standing, Seiji was instantly peppered with their questions.
"I just wanted to ask her name and grade to start a conversation with her, but I failed." Seiji shrugged.
"Did you really fail? It seemed like you were getting along pretty well." Chiaki blinked innocently, "Mika was even getting jealous."
"Not at all!" Once again, Mika was the unwitting target of her friend’s teasing, but her face was indeed slightly flushed red.
"I just… felt like she was really cute, but she had a cold aura about her. It seemed that it would be difficult to talk with her, so… I was impressed with Seiji being able to talk with her so easily."
"No, it wasn’t easy at all," Seiji sighed lightly, "I just wanted to greet her, but she immediately quizzed me on two poems… I almost wasn’t able to follow up."
"But that means you were still able to respond—amazing!" Chiaki gave him a thumbs-up, "In my opinion, for girls that love literature, as long as you can converse about her favorite topics, it’s relatively easy to capture their heart. If you make a sincere effort, maybe you can even get her phone number!"
"Forget it, I really can’t deal with her type." Seiji smiled wryly before realizing what Chiaki just said. "Why would I want a middle schooler’s phone number!? Chiaki, you sound so certain… Do you usually…"
Chiaki Wakaba’s expression suddenly became unnaturally stiff, and then she conspicuously looked away while whistling.
Seiji and Mika were rendered speechless upon seeing Chiaki’s reaction.
Unfortunately, the two leaders of the drama club failed to convince Shika Kagura to join.
While Shika Kagura was indeed beautiful, her personality was entirely unsuited to be on stage, so the president had wasted her effort in ‘capturing’ Shika this time.
Anya Saigenji didn’t seem disappointed at all, though—it seemed that she derived the most joy from the process of hunting down potential members.
"Chiaki’s good friend, Mika Uehara, and transfer student, Seigo Harano—are the two of you interested in joining the drama club!?"
With her eyes sparkling, Anya Saigenji directly questioned the two observers.
"I’m in the tennis club…"
"I still want to check more clubs out—I haven’t made a final decision yet."
"Acting is really fun! Why don’t you try on some costumes first? I’m sure that you’ll awaken a new passion!" Saigenji eagerly began trying to tempt the two of them to join.
*Smack!* The vice president who disagreed with deceiving students in this way stopped her with a book again.
"We’re about to begin our club activities—feel free to watch." Sheena Shiho smiled amicably to the two of them before sighing: "By the way, could I trouble you guys to take care of that girl the Prez dragged here? She’s quite cold to us, and she won’t even tell us her name… Maybe she’s angry at us…"
"No… you guys just didn’t pass her test." Seiji answered reflexively.
"Huh?" Sheena was confused.
"I just chatted a little with her… From my perspective, I don’t think she hates you guys, nor does she care about being dragged here… she’ll probably leave automatically once the time comes."
"Oh…" Sheena nodded, unsure of whether or not to believe him.
"Harano-kun, were you able to learn her name!?" Anya was quite perceptive.
Seiji nodded.
"Amazing! Please tell me her maiden name!" Anya suddenly put her face up close against Seiji, and her blue eyes were sparkling in anticipation.
Her actions resembled those of a certain rich girl with long and straight black hair from the anime called Hyouka; they were only missing her adding on the phrase: "I’m curious! I want to know!"
She was close enough for Seiji to smell her fragrant scent, and he unconsciously took a step backwards.
"Her name… erm… even though I’d really like to tell you, I’d better not."
"Don’t be like that—tell me!" Anya forced herself closer again.
*Smack!* The vice president restrained Anya yet again.
"If she doesn’t want to tell us her name, then we shouldn’t ask any more." Sheena dragged the president away by her shirt’s collar, "We can let you take care of that girl, right?"
Seiji nodded.
The drama club finally began their activities.
Seiji and Mika were careful not to disturb the members as they explored the clubroom.
"These costumes are made with care."
"The scenery backdrops and stage props are quite impressive as well—it seems like much thought was put into their designs."
The atmosphere in the clubroom also impressed them—although it was disorganized and chaotic earlier, the moment they officially began club activities, they all turned serious, making them seem like the major club they were.
Seiji and Mika unconsciously felt affected by their attitude, and they started feeling bad about being idle, thinking that it was incongruous with the club’s atmosphere.
"It’s so different from the tennis club…" Mika sighed.
"Do you think it’s better in here? How about changing clubs, then?" Seiji said.
"I… wish that our club would be a little more serious, but if they were all as serious as Wakaba’s club, then it would seem…"
Although it seemed like a waste if they weren’t serious enough, it was a lot of pressure if everyone was too serious. Seiji could understand Mika, since this was something that many students would think, even if it was self-contradictory.
"Seigo, how about you? Do you want to join the drama club?"
"Well, I’m a little interested in acting, and Wakaba’s club looks pretty lively, but I still need to go to work, so it might not be possible for me to participate in club activities as seriously as I’d like." Seiji shrugged.
"Is that so…"
The two of them observed for a while longer, before Mika glanced at the middle school girl who was reading her book silently.
Seiji gazed briefly in her direction as well and exchanged glances with Mika.
"I think we’ve observed enough—let’s call her and leave together."
Mika nodded in agreement.
Seiji walked back over to Shika Kagura again.
"Kagura-san, if you don’t intend to join this club, how about leaving together with us? Let’s not disturb their club activities any longer."
Shika Kagura lifted her head and lightly glanced over at the boy in front of her, before she closed her poetry book and stood up.
She was surprisingly obedient… Seiji scratched his face.
He indicated to Mika that they should leave now, and they said goodbye to Wakaba and the others as they left the drama club together.
"Seigo Harano, do you still need me for anything?"
When they reached a practice field, Shika Kagura suddenly asked a question.
"Er… no, you can go wherever you want." Seiji looked deeply at this unique girl with a cold aura and said, "Although I’m not from the drama club, I’d still like to apologize on their behalf for taking up your time. That president… even though she’s a little eccentric, she’s a nice person at heart. Please don’t mind her."
"I know," Shika Kagura answered lightly as she looked up at the setting sun. "Appearances may be a disguise, actions may be faked, and you may see nothing but hypocrisy. Only the heart is true."
"…Another one of Taylor’s poems?"
"No, that was from Lee Yuan."
‘A Chinese… no, Huaxia poem?’ Seiji blinked.
"Actually, I don’t really know much about poetry. I was just lucky earlier when I was able to respond to your poem." He honestly informed the girl.
Kagura was silent.
"I’m sorry if you felt like I was deceiving you," Seiji smiled wryly, "but I didn’t have any bad intentions—if you don’t mind the fact that I know nothing about poems, we can still be friends."

She remained silent.
He supposed this was how it was. Seiji didn’t mind being ignored or rejected as this was commonplace for him.
"I don’t need friends," she spoke up in her soft voice, "I… don’t like poems either."
Once again, her words were like bubbles that disappeared in the wind.
"Oh…" Seiji was surprised.
Before he was able to figure out what she meant, she turned around and left.
Seiji and Mika speechlessly watched her silhouette depart.
"She’s… rather unusual." That was Mika’s opinion.
"Yeah…" Seiji was a bit concerned about her, but it was obvious that she wanted to be by herself, so he couldn’t chase after her.
‘She doesn’t need friends… this could be seen as a middle schooler’s immaturity, but what could she mean when she said she didn’t really like poems?’ Seiji mulled over her words for a while, but he eventually decided to give up.
Either way, he was unlikely to meet her very often, since she was a middle schooler.
"Seiji, do you still want to look at any other clubs?"
"Nah, that’s enough for today. I’d like to go home now—how about you?"
"I’ll go home as well with you."
As he left school together with Mika, Seiji ceased thinking about the previous events. His mind was filled with anticipation regarding his new system options!


Translator note: Apologies to the readers. This series is currently on hiatus. We ask for your understanding!
A 30-year-old Chinese NEET is reincarnated into the body of an otaku that choked to death on instant noodles. As he comes to grips with his new life, he realizes that this world is subtly different from Earth. The denizens of this world are far better looking, and this new world also possesses futuristic technology as well as mysterious Yin Yang masters! 
After reincarnating, he realized that he was endowed with a miraculous game-like system, which enables him to increase his own stats and transcend the limits of the human body. This system even has a game-breaking ability to save and load in real life!
In this new world that’s akin to a 2-D game, he just wants to enjoy life and head for a glorious future... However, he is quickly embroiled in a complex plot. Can he unlock his true potential and utilize his system to break the shackles that confine him and discover the truth about his previous body’s circumstances? 

My heart is full of sorrow and I had to go back to the airport to go to Canada this is the first Canadian that would hate being in Canada but I've had a rough life. All the way to the Ottawa international Airport I felt like I was being betrayed by my lover.  Find the learning gear hit the ground I knew I would never see him again I didn't know how but I just knew that I wouldn't see him again if you was tired. I was crying when I got off the plane so bad that I had to be in a wheelchair. I refuse to walk I refuse to listen to anyone I was speaking only an hour back and not English and telling people to go fuck off.  When I got the strength to go back to my apartment it was completely different and lonely it wasn't even homely. I was in on how empty it was like my heart. No one would believe it if I said that I made love to the crown prince of Saudi Arabia but I did.  I worked extra shifts to get extra money to go back to Saudi Arabia but it was still not enough or fast enough I am getting more jobs and burning myself out. That's when they started to come in one by one the letters in the poems



My love my love my habibi 
It is against sharia law for me to divorce my wife but I am going to do the trust for you. I want to be with you as much as you want to be with me. I think Allah And fade had brought us together and we have around each other soulmates. Please come back as soon as possible you don't have to be a slave or a worker I will love you as wife always    Signed Faysel.   

I captain cherished everyone of his letters and poems and his book I read every day I'll be with in the Koran. I prayed that I would see him again let me out of the suppressive place where I was at Miss treated as a kid. To me Canada it was full of evil clowns and it was a fun house like Zibo from are you afraid of the dark. Without my lover I was afraid of the dark.  I literally had to sleep with the lights on because I was afraid of seeing Zibo the clown from our you afraid of the dark. This was nothing more than a Funhouse a fucked up place with the fucked up clowns I thought I just wanted to be in the arms of my lover.
At night I dreamt of being with him or being with him that first time he treated me like a queen you wanted me to be his queen. Why else would you give me a ring exactly my finger size. I could literally feel his flesh inside me as I slept and I can feel pressure of his body on top of mine but it was just a dream.  When I woke up and the sensations are gone I realized I was where I didn't want to be and that it was not real so I would go for my koran for Yasir or comfort Arabic. Every time I read every word and he'll drop down on my cheek and roll. I was in so much emotional pain that it was unbelievable. The next paycheque was gonna be the final paycheque and I was going to go back to Saudi Arabia to be with my one true love Fazil.
How I wanted him to tackle me onto that rug and make love to me as if he never made love to a woman that's all I wanted. I never felt such heartbreak in my life yeah we never broke up he just ghosted me and sent me letters and poems that was it enough I want to be in his presence. So the next day it was payday and I took all my money I didn't care about the bills I was going to move in Saudi Arabia to be with him I left the landlord hanging and so with bills and left.  I packed up my few precious belongings and clothing in the book that he gave me a Islamic poetry and I went back.


a female prilgram to mecca falls in love with the princess of Saudi Arabia when on the hajj.   that one night haunts her and she wanted if he feels the same

81. When you are not with me, my longing can only rely on rhymes. The rhymes that are increasingly piling up with time. Without knowing, how high he will hoard each other. (1405th poem, May 10 2017)
82. And to the stars that decorate the sky tonight, please convey how much I miss them. (1414th poem, May 10 2017)
83. To be honest, I could have sent my poems to you every hour. But I just want to pause. Pause from all my time that you have stolen just to think about you. (1228th poem, April 25 2017)
84. Keep smiling. So that my poetry always hums melodiously, along with the boisterous calm of the wind that blows my hair at this time. (1381th poem, 09 May 2017)
85. Fly your prayers high and high, pierce the sky with the sparkle of every hope you. Don't worry that your prayers will be ignored or rejected by God. Take it easy, I support your good prayers from here. It is enough for you to write your prayers on the lantern, let my prayer be the light and the hot steam, which helps to fly it. (1450th Poem, 13 May 2017)
86. Your smile sparkles beautifully. Your laughter bursts out colorful. Then God's favor, which other can I deny? (The 128th poem, 09 December 2016)
87. One more thing, I also like the moment when we tell funny things, then you smile because of my story. Do you know? your smile is the idea horizon of all my poetry. Even though it sounds cliché, your smile is indeed my day's cheer up every morning, and my sleep conditioning every night. (The 914th poem, 11 March 2017)
88. Because I still remember very well when I fell in love. I fell in love not only because I liked you, not because you were beautiful, or because of some other physique. However, I fell in love with you because I wanted to make you happy. And if the sky is one of the proofs of God's greatness, then you are also proof that He is able to create something perfectly in every detail. I am grateful to be able to write down every detail of your beauty together with simple poems, here. (14 May 2017)

89. Later, you will find a quiet afternoon, quiet without a sound. With the silence that drowns you, the time takes you to a memorial to the past. Then you come back to remember all the memories, and they one by one comes to your mind. And without you knowing it, you finally smiled when my turn passed. (The 892th poem, 09 March 2017)
90. The night may be getting late. Leaving behind a dim light and leaving a chill that grew freezing. But that only applies at night, not with my longing. As it gets late, my longing is getting more passionate. The higher, the more soaring. (1379th poem, May 08 2017)

My poems were the first I wrote. Track record of how I became a writer. About love, sincerity, ignorance of what people say; the most important thing is my world is calm. Starting from the meeting stage, loving secretly, until the stage of letting go, now (me and my feelings) are immortal in poetry. || Temporary hiatus, currently composing poetry into a story.

To be honest, for Lu Shu, there were no benefits that were worth selling his body for, even the Master Realm.
Sun Zhongyang waved his hand and rejected. "I dislike those who sell their body for some benefit the most. Are there any other slaves?" 
The manager laughed in disdain. "I will bring a few other slaves. But you must understand that these are the best slaves. They typically have their own reasons for coming to the market. Roamers have no right to enter."
"I mean, do you have any…" Sun Zhongyang heistated. "Good looking slaves who are of excellent quality? It would be best if they are well-educated. Even better if they understand the poems of the king."
When Sun Zhongyang said this, the manager understood.
Suddenly, Lu Shu was speechless. So the palace compared these kinds of slaves… there was no difference with that on Earth, where concubines were compared.
Lu Shu felt that there was nothing attractive about these slaves… wait, why did you bring male slaves…
This time, the manager brought more than ten slaves. Half of them were male. Lu Shu suddenly realized that the palace geniuses beside Sun Zhongyang were suddenly very excited…
He really could not understand this world.
Lu Xiaoyu glanced at Lu Shu. "How about them?"
Lu Shu said with a sense of justice, "I dislike those who sell their body for some benefit the most."
The manager glanced at him and said to Sun Zhongyang, "They are talented in the reading of the king's poems. Do you want them to perform for you?"
Sun Zhongyang said excitedly, "Let me listen to one or two poems of the king."
Lu Shu thought. Were you really a young man who was interested in literature and art? You do not seem like one at all!
But at that moment, a beautiful female slave wearing a green dress said in a dignified manner, "I heard you say that you dislike those who sell their bodies for some benefit the most. But you might have misunderstood. In this courtyard, not only do masters choose slaves, slaves also choose their masters. It is easy for you to make us memorise the poems of the king. But do you know how we feel wronged to submit ourselves to you?"
Lu Shu was dumbfounded. The slaves here dared to speak in such a manner? Were there still many things about this world that he did not know?
Or had Zhang Weiyu been right? He had said that the slaves who had knowledge and could become teachers were abused by their slave owners, but were also respected by their owners. 
Lu Shu realized that Sun Zhongyang and the rest did not slap this lady in a rage. On the contrary, they seemed to be deep in thought.
Lu Xiaoyu said in a low and cold tone, "It's just a sales strategy."
Suddenly, Sun Zhongyang said in a clear voice, "How about this? Let's play a game! We will each say a line of the king's poems. This way, we can clearly see how much everyone knows! I'll go first. You live where the Yangtze begins[1]!"
The person him smiled and continued. "I live where the Yangtze ends."
"I long for you day after day, yet we cannot meet," said someone else.
To Lu Shu's shock, he realized that it was now his turn. What was the next line?
Everyone looked at Lu Shu. Lu Shu paused for two seconds. "We build a new village together?"
"From Sun Zhongyang's distress, +666!"
"From Mo Xiaoya's distress, +666!"
"From…" 
Sun Zhongyang felt sick. Others share the water from the Yangtze river, but you built a new village? What in the world was that?!
The originally civilized atmosphere had suddenly been destroyed.
Lu Shu also realized that everyone's expressions had darkened. He coughed twice. "Ahem. Let's go back to the trade caravan. Have fun, all of you."
There was really no meaning to this slave market. Thus, Lu Shu decided that he would no longer stay here. He could not play along with what these refined men like to play.
But at that moment, the lady in a green dress said, "If you are willing, I am willing to become your slave."
Lu Shu pointed to himself. "Me?"
The lady in a green dress nodded her head. "That's right."
Lu Shu was dumbfounded. He asked, "Did you eat too much for lunch…?"
"From Xu Mujun's distress, +199!"
Sun Zhongyang and the rest were dumbfounded as well. Just now, she seemed as if she looked down on Lu Shu. But now, she asked him whether he was willing to take her as his slave out of her own initiative. Were you serious? To Lu Shu and the rest, based on Lu Shu's "build a new village together", it was not an understatement to call him a country bumpkin… 
Sun Zhongyang could not understand. "Lady, we have various handsome young men here. Some of us are rich, some of us have strength, and some of us have power…"
Before he could finish speaking, Xu Mujun suddenly said, "I picked the most good-looking one."
"From Sun Zhongyang's distress…"
Lu Xiaoyu suddenly pondered. This world was very strange. On Earth, although Lu Shu had fine features, he could not be considered as good looking. Only fools like Coral would call Lu Shu as such.
Thus, Lu Xiaoyu thought about it. Was there something wrong with the appreciation of beauty in this world? Or was there something wrong with Lu Shu's identity? Why was everyone forced to think that Lu Shu was good looking?
If there was actually something wrong with Lu Shu's identity, where would they find the answer to their question?
Lu Xiaoyu asked Lu Shu in a small voice, "Do you think that there's something strange here?"
Lu Shu asked curiously. "What's strange?"
Lu Xiaoyu thought about it and said, "Why does everyone here think that you're good looking?"
Lu Shu paused for two seconds. "Because I really am?"
"From Lu Xiaoyu's distress, +666!"
Lu Xiaoyu coldly looked at Lu Shu. "You can really boast. My train of thought is all over the place now."
Lu Shu looked at Xu Mujun and said in an earnest tone, "Lady, I have no money to buy you. I still have other uses for my money."
No money? Sun Zhongyang and the rest looked at Lu Shu. Even Mo Xioaoya was surprised. All the buyers they had seen liked to boast in hopes of getting their attention. But this young man had confessed his financial state. He even made others feel more comfortable and ensured that they had a peace of mind.
Xu Mujun said calmly, "I have some money. If you are willing, my money will be yours."
At that moment… Lu Shu was touched…
Sun Zhongyang and the rest were dumbfounded. Was she selling herself as a slave, or was she buying a master? They could not understand this situation!
Lu Xiaoyu was dumbfounded as well. At first, she had thought that Xu Mujun had acted in a prideful manner as a means to get sales. But now, it seemed as if this was not the case. She said to Lu Shu, "She definitely has some plans!"
Lu Shu was very calm. "That's right. I've seen it as well. She is targeting my looks."
At that moment, Wen Zaifou was shouting abuses in the imperial palace. "No way! Why is it so difficult to plant someone beside him?! He must be crazy!"
[1] this is a poem by Chinese poet Li Zhiyi


Magical energy has come to this world; Lu Shu could only stare as one powerhouse after another appear.

Looking at his own peculiar ability, he exhaled a breath of cold air.

Dog balls!

...

This is a story of how Lu Shu used poisonous chicken soup to become the Demon King

Translator Synopsis:

This is the story of an orphan, Lu Shu. He is not any regular orphan, but a metahuman experiencing the changes in himself, his country and the world during the dawn of the magical era. Watch as Lu Shu embarks on a journey to hone his peculiar abilities together with his sister, the adorable and charismatic Lu Xiaoyu. Along the way, they’ll encounter supernatural events, obstacles and even the most powerful people in their country. How will Lu Shu make the best of his abilities and oust his never-ending list of rivals and opponents?

"Don't you know?" Su Ruirui was happy to answer the question for her on the side, "You weren't here yesterday and the teacher told us to prepare for a test." 
"You have to take the test back to correct your mistakes, your parents have to sign it too." 
Ye Sang heard that signature was needed, she recalled her three dog-like fathers and her hair shot up anxiously. 
The little girl asked nervously, "Will they hit my butt if I don't do well for the test?" 
Ye Niannian recalled himself getting beaten up by his parents and he nodded heavily and explained as someone with past experience, "Not only that but also a beating from the socialists."
Ye Sang, who just gotten her butt hit a day ago: "..." 
 *
Ms. Liu frowned lightly and saw the bunch of kids sitting together. She slapped the table and warned: "Su Ruirui, Ye Niannian! What are you two doing?" 
"Go back to your own spots. I'll be handing out test papers as we are having a small test." 
She smiled gently. After all the children sat down, she cleared her throat.
"Here. The time limit is half an hour and all the questions are simple. You've all been here for a month now, you can work on these questions." 
Those children who didn't want to do the test rested on their desks bitterly without any energy. 
Not long after getting the test paper, the little thing already felt sleepy. 
Ms. Liu glanced at all the turnip heads and sat down on the teacher's desk, started to scroll through her phone out of boredom. 
... 
When the teacher wasn't paying attention, Su Ruirui and Ye Niannian exchanged glances with each other and started passing notes silently. 
During this time, Ye Sang watched the two passing cheats naturally like flowing water in confusion. 
The little thing swayed her head and saw the last question, as well as questions regarding comprehension of poems, her cat eyes lit up. 
She knows how to write poems! 
And comprehension too. 
No one knew what gave Ye Sang the confidence but even she thought that she had a gift in literature and language. 
The little thing lowered her head and started to work on the questions seriously. Shen Yan'an freed some time to look at the idiot and found she was doing math questions on the other side of the paper. 
The little girl was rather confident. She scribbled away but got most of them wrong. 
Shen Yan'an lips twitched and he couldn't bear to watch it anymore, "You got everything wrong." 
He pointed at the test lightly with his fingers, "Here, this equals eighteen, and that's seven." 
"This is multiply and division, not addition and subtraction." 
It was obvious that the little thing never learned how to multiply and divide. 
But Ye Sang refused to listen. 
The boy stared at her still young and innocent face, and with her confident scribbles, he asked after a moment of silence, "Sis, did Piaorou give you confidence when you did these questions?" 
#Use Piaorou, gain confidence#
When the two were staring at each other, Ye Niannian already finished his test and secretly passed it to Ye Sang, whispering, "Ye Sangsang, I'll let you borrow my test." 
Shen Yan'an glanced at him and glanced thinking that they must be true love. 
However, Su Ruirui's voice came from the other side too, "Borrow mine, I came first in class before!" 
Ye Niannian panicked, "What about being first? You only got two marks higher than me?" 
"Sangsang already said that she likes my test." 
Ye Sang, who was forced into liking it. "..." No, she didn't. 
Su Ruirui howled back, refusing to accept it, "You are farting, Ye Sangsang obviously likes mine more." 
"Look at the things you wrote." 
Ye Niannian was infuriated, "Get out of here. Look at your incoherent poems and compositions, what makes you the face to criticize me?" 
The boy stood up from his stool angrily. 
He pouted and finally read it out, "The light rain continued and continuously rained, pitter patter, pitter patter, pitter patter, pitter pitter patter patter..." 
"What? There's no end to your rain pitter pattering? Don't you know how to change up your vocabulary?" 
Su Ruirui blushed, "..." Damn it. 
Because the two children were too angry and didn't keep their voices down, the entire class heard their strange conversation. 
The teacher put her head on the desk and almost lost herself from laughing so hard. 
Su Ruirui breathed deeply and yelled back because he felt he just lost face, "And what about you? Your incoherent poem? A tree of pear blossoms pressing down a tree of blooming begonia, a spray of red apricot blossom has already reached over the wall?[1] Your literature teacher can't keep her coffin lid shut anymore!!" 
Ms. Liu: "..." 
"..." Ye Niannian felt humiliated. 
He made his final struggle, "Mine's called being artistic, you know your hammer." 
Su Ruirui fought back, "Mine's called reduplication, you know your ass." 
Great. 
The two stuck to their own version and started an argument because of a stupid test. 
The teacher forced down the urge of twitching her lips as she was dying from laughing at these two brats. 
"Ahem." Ms. Liu cleared her throat and gestured to them to be quiet, "You are in the middle of a test, you dare to pass your test around?" 
"Don't you know that counts as cheating?" 
Su Ruirui argued back, "It's not called cheating." 
Mr. Liu raised an eyebrow, "What is it then?"
Ye Niannian replied justly, "It's called referencing and borrowing!" 
Ms. Liu: "..." What a bunch of naughty brats. 
They were really close to making her laugh.
The woman took over the children's papers and raised an eyebrow while forcing her laughter back, "You want Sangsang to reference your tests with something like this?" 
Ms. Liu looked through it carefully and couldn't help but to laugh as she pointed at the test, "The last question is a poem composition and you can freely express what you want, but read it out for me in a loud voice, what did you two write?" 
The boys exchanged a glance with each other. 
They didn't know what to write the last composition question so they "unified their culture". 
The two unhappily pouted, "Miss, what's wrong with it?" 
Didn't she say they could express themselves freely? 
Of course they could write whatever they want. 
Other children might not even rhyme as well as them. 
Ms. Liu gave the test back to them and asked the children to read out their "shared" answer, "Okay my babies, read your answer out and enlighten the others." 
She didn't even hide the amusement and tease in her voice. 
"..." Su Ruirui and Ye Niannian exchanged a glance with each other and frowned slightly. Under the teacher's abuse of authority, they unwillingly dragged their voices on. 
The two echoed with each other without energy,
Ye Niannian swayed his head as he read: "An expert in the mortal world…...[2]" 
"... Defeated in the underworld." 
"Dead in the mortuary." 
Su Ruirui slowly continued, "... Brothers cool AF." 
They both read the last line aloud, "Ascend to heaven after death." 
[1] two separate idioms about cheating
[2] A children's chant which rhymes at the end


Ye Sang’s five daddies were all villains wicked beyond redemption who were doing bad things in the world. Eventually, they were all killed by the male lead! 
And so, she had to hug onto their thighs tightly to prevent them from courting disasters and instead rise to the peak of their lives. 
…… 
Number one, the biggest influence in the business industry: “The weather’s getting cold, it is time for the Duan family to be bankrupt.” 
Number two, the smartest villain: “Imma teach that Duan guy a lesson today.” 
Number three, a genius in the medical field: “I’ve reincarnated and I will make him pay.” 
Number four, the god of Esports, and number five, the god of acting: “Today, only one shall fall and one shall stand.” 
Their little ball silently hugged one of their thighs. Daddy, Sangsang hungry~ 
All the villains who were on their way to take revenge immediately thought, ... screw that, I’m busy spending time with my daughter! 
And then, the entire City A found out that these five vicious and merciless villains weren’t scared of anything but their daughter crying. 
Everyone who saw this thought, ...wait, why does this scene look so strange? 
Why are all these great villains busy raising their daughter? 
…… 
All these villains who could cover the sky with their hands never thought that the cute daughter they raised could be stolen by the Duan family’s little wolf!!! 
Duan Jinyan hugged the girl tightly in his arms, “Why are you running? Sangsang, call me brother and my everything will belong to you.” 


"...we therefore commit her body to the ground, earth to earth, ashes to ashes, dust to dust, looking for that blessed hope when the Lord Himself shall descend from heaven with a shout, with the voice of the archangel, and with the trump of God, and the dead in Christ shall rise first."
Never once had I ever attended a funeral, before, and yet, in the past week I had managed to attend two. How did that even make sense? You go through life blissfully with no worries and life comes to humble you in a brutal manner. The only trauma I had ever experienced in my life was my aunt Cara doing a cough fart on my bed when she came over for Christmas. These things don't happen around here, least of all to me. 
Her coffin began to lower itself before each of her family members poured dirt on it. There wasn't much of them. Just her grandmother, aunt and little brother. Her mother wasn't able to roll herself to the coffin, so she asked her sister to do it for her. I didn't cry, just yet, because I felt as if I wasn't allowed to. I wasn't going to be hypocrite like the rest of them. We were the reason she was down there... all of us.
I heard sniffles beside me and turned to face a red nosed, Amirah holding a Kleenex close to her face. I bet she felt guilty; as she should. My throat started to clog up, as the coffin lowered itself out of sight. She's in there. Dead and alone. What's happening to her right now? What was she seeing? I had the same picture of her in my mind. A time we went to Brighton for a school trip and went ToyVoyaging. That was the last time I saw her happy... genuine happiness. I could tell because she let her gum show when smiled, she didn't like doing that because she was insecure with how dark they were. I wish I told her how beautiful she was. I know we gassed each other up here and there, but I should've told her more. Because she was and she had a lot of people telling her she wasn't.
I don't like this. I don't like not talking but you're not allowed to speak during a funeral. It's finishing soon anyway. I just wanted to go home. Some of her things were still at mine. I wanted to get to them before I had to give it away to her family. "Kiyara, do you wanna go home  or do you want to go to the wake, afterwards?" My mother had asked. Finally, we can speak. 
"I wanna go home, please." As soon as I had uttered those words, Amirah shot a look up at me and sent glares through my soul. "How could you go home at a time like this? We were her best friends, we should stay with her for a while. Please don't leave me, Kiyara. I need you." Her eyes started to soften as she had reached out her hand towards me. For the first time in my life, I stared down at Amirah and said nothing, before I began to walk ahead of my mother. My mother didn't question it, although I could tell she was shocked. "I just can't be here."
"It's okay, you don't have to explain yourself to me." As I got in the passenger seat, I stared out the window and watched the boys in our school hang around a nearby tree. They hung their heads as they kicked the grass below them. One of the boys had caught my stare and held it. I wondered what was going on past that messy black hair. This week couldn't have been easy for him. I wouldn't be surprised if we wounded up attending his funeral next. 
"Do you wanna stop by the KFC drive-thru, honey?" My mother asked, politely as we neared closer to our home. "Or shall we just have the leftovers from two days ago? Or I can cook you a-."
"I don't get it, mum. I know her, she wouldn't do this. She's not the type." I blurted out, ignoring her question. 
"Baby, no one is the type until they are. It's okay to be confused this time."
"Please, don't play shrink. It doesn't suit you."
"Well, what do you want me to say, Kiyara?"
"How about we start with what you're thinking."  My mother took a deep breath and kept her eyes on the road, before she opened her mouth once more. "Well, I'm a bit shaken up and I feel extremely guilty because she spent her last days staying with us and I just want to know what drove her, to do what she did, while she was staying under my roof. I can't understand how I didn't see the signs." I turned to my mother to watch tears streaming down her chin and tiny drops land on her top lip. I figured she would feel the same guilt as me. How were we even suppose to go back home whilst carrying that weight around?  
"Did you see her mum?" I asked, causing my mum to nod. "I know I shouldn't say this but, I wish we were attending her funeral instead."
"Me too." My mother said, to my surprise, as her eyes were still glued on the road.  
"I honestly don't know what to think or feel right now, I don't think it's hit me. I'm never gonna see her again. Mum, I'm never gonna see her again. Eight years I've known that girl and now I'm never gonna see her again. I should've known something was up. The way she was suddenly acting up and would snap at everything,  the way she went missing that time for like two weeks and just showed up out of the blue and she looked so different and all that time she spent with that girl that no one knew. I didn't see her in the funeral."
"You talking about the red headed girl?" My body cut through the air as I turned and nodded. "The one that was dressed really classy and elegant?" I nodded again. "The one that had an umbrella open and it wasn't even raining?"
"Mum, get to the point!" I said, desperately, snapping at her. 
"Oh, yeah, she was there. All the way in the back, behind the boys." 
"What- I- mum, why didn't you tell me?" I asked, stuttering in disbelief. How did I not see her? 
"Was I suppose to?" She asked, as we neared towards our driveway. 
"Yes, she the whole reason we attended that funeral, I know it."
"Kiyara-."
"No, mum seriously. She completely changed after meeting that girl. I saw a different and more nastier side to my best friend that I hadn't seen in the eight years that I had known her. And, now she's gone and that girl had the audacity to show up at her funeral."
"What would you have done if I told you?"
"I would've-."
"You would've... what?" I stayed silent because she was right. I wouldn't have done anything. Causing a scene at a funeral? I'm not in some movie to be getting away with that shit. As my mother parked the car, I took a long look at the house in front of me. Am I actually about to walk in this house, right now?
My mother dropped the keys at the stand, as I closed the door behind us. "I feel dirty." She said taking off her coat and hanging it on the stand. "Why don't you pack her things up before her family gets here. They're gonna come straight after the wake." Nodding I headed up stairs and opened my room. The first thing my eyes had landed on was her black duffle bag she came with. I don't think I want to go through her things, in all honesty. I think I just want process this whole week because it really came out of nowhere. I still don't get why she did it. I mean I get she was changing but I know her, deep down something doesn't-
A rustling came from underneath me, as I leaned in my pillow. Getting up, I moved my pillow away to find a yellow envelope that had my name on it. It's from her. 
I can't believe I hadn't thought of a note. Of course, she wrote a note. Any chance to write something. Picking up the envelope I noticed how heavy it was. I think this was the only time I was glad to read her hefty writing. I wish I had appreciated it more. 
Running downstairs, I found my mother on the couch talking on the phone. "Yeah, we just got home. Oh- she came downstairs-."
"Mum, get off the phone."
"It's your dad." She said taking the phone off her ear and gesturing toward me. 
"I'll speak to him later, this is urgent."
"What?"
"Look." I said, holding up the letter to watch eyes turn wide. 
"Okay, bye." She hastily said, hanging up. "Is it from her?"
"No, it's from Madeline McCann." 
"Just, open it."
"I don't want to, that's why I came down here. You open it." I felt buzz on butt and picked up my phone from my back pocket to find Amirah calling me. I let it ring and pushed the envelope towards my mum. "It has your name on it, I can't read it."
"And, when has that ever stopped you? Hello? My diary."
"Yeah, your diary in year four and I'm sorry for reading about how you had cabbage for lunch. Top secret, CIA, confidential information."
"Mum, please open it." Taking the envelope from me, with defeat, she teared it up. "Be a bit more respectful." She shot a glare up at me, causing me to put my hands up in defence. Taking the letters out she examined them. "I think these are poems. She still writes- wrote poems?" Snatching the paper from my mum, I searched inside the envelope to see if there was  anything else. "That's all she left me? Poems?" 
"Well, there are loads of pages here, there must be a note in here somewhere. Wait, this poem is in red." She said holding up the paper.
"Okay, what's that suppose to mean?" I shrugged, causing my mother to do the same. 
"I don't know, it must mean something."
"This isn't CSI, mother."
"Well, you're the one that came down here all dramatic only to give some poems."
"I thought it was a note. I thought she was gonna explain everything. I thought it was a goodbye." My mother placed the poems on the couch and got up to rest her arm around my shoulder. "Maybe there is a goodbye in one of these. She probably knew how confused you would be and is showing you a side to her that you didn't see, so you could make sense of everything."
"She could walk me step by step through what she did and I still wouldn't understand it." I had said in a low-toned voice. 
"I know, baby. But, at least now you have a piece of her soul that no one else has access to and you keep it for the rest of your life." 


Staying up that night, I spent the time going through her poems. Her aunt came in the afternoon to take her duffleI bag and some of those that she had left in the wash. My phone was switched off besides me since Amirah kept blowing it up. The only thing I had on my mind was being closer to her. It was weird, reading these poems. It didn't seem like her. Normally when people read something from their loved ones, they feel their presence around them. Like they're still around. But reading these gave me an eerie feeling of hollow and emptiness. These weren't her words but it was definitely her handwriting. I mean, I knew she wrote poems and I had read about 2 or 3 but none of them were this deep. 
"Hey, can I come in?" My mother said, knocking and popping her head through the door. 
"Of course." She propped herself besides me, on my bed, as she started to pick up the papers next to her. "So, how's the search for clues going?"
"Eight years of friendship, mum. Eight years I watched her grow up with me and I didn't know her. Not to sound dramatic, but this seems like a stranger. Sure, it's her handwriting but the words... it doesn't sound like her." None of this made sense. The things she was talking about. One poem was a conversation between a flower and the sunset. Like, what is that suppose to mean? They were all so random. Maybe, they had a context I didn't know about. 
"I didn't know she was such a romantic." My mother had said, holding a poem in her hand, that read 'The tale of the sky and the ground'. "How come you didn't tell me she had a man?"
"She was never in a relationship. She would've told me." I said shaking my head in disbelief. But then, I thought to myself. Would she have told me?  "Well, she definitely had it bad." My mother had stated, still reading the poem. 
"I read that poem, it's about the sky and the ground and, like, pollution and shit. It's, like, about climate change and how humans have corrupted the world. I think, when she's talking about the sky she's referring to, like, God." I said, trying my hardest to decipher her words. "There's no way that poem is about love. Where did you get her being in love from?"
"It's definitely about love. Here, let me read it again. 'Carelessly, we walk around, not caring about the tale of the sky and the ground. They were created together you see-."
"Oh, then it must not be God since it was created and-."
"Don't interrupt me." My mother snapped, before she continued reading. "'Carelessly, they walk around, not caring about the tale of the sky and the ground. They were created together, you see, in bliss and harmony. The birds, who were their friends, would pass down messages, without the use of a pen. The sky and the ground would often meet with a crowd that she sent from the clouds. But, things had changed through time, with the birth of mankind. With their inventions that kept the ground bound, and with their pollution, they covered the stars that once comforted the ground. The sky often cries in pain, but their destruction still remains. How silly they were to go down this path. Oh, son of Adam, aren't you scared of the Sky's wrath'. Not only is this about love but, I think it's a threat."
I continued to go through the poems to see if any stood out and I find the poem with the red ink once more. Reading it, I gasped in disbelief, as I shot up from my position. "No way!"
"What? You scared me." My mother breathed, holding her hand on her chest. 
"Mum, this is the song we wrote when we were eleven, during our trip, when you and aunt Camilla took us to Marrakech." I informed her, as she looked at the page I was holding. 
"I told you the red poem meant something." 
"But, you don't understand it doesn't make sense. We attached this to the toy that we were voyaging. Oh, I'm in idiot." I exclaimed, looking at it again. " She re-wrote it. How did she remember it?" 
"Aw, read it."
"Oh, God, prepare to cringe. 'Goodbye toy, I'll miss you, but you must go and sail into the deep blue. Sail on, taking our secret with you, for someone else to grab and cling on to. You'll see things we can't even fathom. You'll go on adventures that we can only imagine. You'll swim with fishes and go to countries that are in our wishes. Oh, how jealous we are of you. Say hi, for us, to the people of Timbuktu. I hope this isn't goodbye and we meet again. But, for now it is. So long, my friend'." Before I knew it, I began to cry and I couldn't stop. My mother, sat up from her comfortable position and held me tight as I cried and cried. "We were so free and innocent. I remember, we quickly finished this so we could go back to our room and watch the new Wizards of Waverly Place episode. Mum, she was my best friend. She was my sister. How could I abandon her when she needed me the most? How could I side with her enemies?" I continued to cry, as I remembered how fun that trip was. No worries. No responsibilities. No deaths. My heart yearned for those days, as it started to pang in my chest. The guilt in gut felt like it was going to rip me open.  "I think this is my note. She wrote it again for me. This is her goodbye."
I held it to my chest and cried even more. "Why don't you put it somewhere safe. You know how you misplace things sometimes. You won't forgive yourself if you lose this."
"I'll put it in my treasure chest." I said, getting up and wiping my tears. 
"Oh yeah, I forgot about your treasure chest draw. You still keep things in there?" 
"It's just easier to keep things in there just incase, so I don't lose it." Opening my cupboard, I unlocked my drawer with the key that was in between my clothes. Opening it, I folded up the poem and was about to put it in until I saw a note with my name on it. "Mum, a note." My mother got up from my bed and sat on her knees next to me. "This one is a bit heavy too."
"If it's another set of poems, I am going to scream." Tearing it up, I unfolded the letter and began to read out loud.



Kiyara! Oh my God, I can't believe your dumb ass actually found this. I thank your mother because I know she probably found this and not you. You're probably so confused but I'm here to explain everything. Sorry for leaving without saying goodbye. I'm sorry if my hand writing is messy, I only have a couple of hours left and I have to write this you. Do not show anyone this letter, except aunt Phaedra. First of all, Kiyara stop feeling guilty. You had every right to be mad at me, I was acting up and you weren't having it. As you shouldn't. I love you so much and know that if I was angry with you I wouldn't be writing this letter to you right now. I had to slip this in your treasure cupboard or box thingy because I couldn't risk anyone else finding this. Oh gosh, I've confused you even more. I waffle so much. Anyway, you deserve to know the truth about everything and you will...

"I fell in love, but, this is not a love story. I killed someone, but, I'm not a murderer. I was found hung but I did not kill myself. Not everything is as it seems in my life."

Novis Tempus was living a normal life: making people laugh, having loads of friends and maintaining average grades. But, all of that changed the minute she made the mistake of allowing herself to fall for Abraham Dilectus. But, this could be fine since everyone believes he has feelings for her too? However, she's not too convinced.

When she befriends a woman outside of her school, she soon finds out there are easier ways in life to get everything you want. But, easy doesn't always mean right. 

TW//: This novel contains serious topics such as: Depression; Anxiety; Suicide; Abuse; Eating Disorders, Gory imagery; dark humour

If you are someone who is triggered easily, please, do not read this book as I will be partially speaking of my own experience and it won't be easy.

getting back together poems novel

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