Mc မင်းခန့်က မိန်းမတွေကို ဘယ်လို လိုးပြမလဲ။ သိမ်းပိုက်ပြမလဲ။

After 10,000 years perfecting a single pill, Bai Fanxian emerges from seclusion to find the world has moved on without her. Cultivation is now rare and weak, True Alchemy have faded into legend, and the modern world has no idea what masters of the past could achieve. Armed with ancient mastery and unmatched power, she'll remind everyone why "Alchemy Empress" was once the most revered title in the cultivation world. ---------------------------------------------------------------- You can read 30+ more chapters on Patreon! Rate/Review if you're enjoying the story Patreon: patreon.com/LittleKnight (Link also in my profile)

18 နှစ်အောက်တွေမလာခဲ့နဲ့ ရိုက်လွှတ်မှာ

روايتي الأولى اتمنى تنال إعجابكم ❣️🥹

Seraphina Ravelle, the stepdaughter of Marquess Edric, grew up surrounded by luxury-but behind the mansion doors, cruelty ruled. Her mother, Isadora Ravelle, used her power to torment the Marquess's first daughter, Liora. Seraphina loved her sister dearly, yet she could never show it. Desperate to save Liora from their mother's abuse, Seraphina secretly forged a letter and sent a marriage proposal in her sister's name to the feared Grand Duke, Izek Viremont. But instead of accepting Liora... the Duke sent the proposal back-to Seraphina. Why would one of the most powerful men in the kingdom choose her? And what does the Duke truly want?

×Mature× > She died a jobless anime binge-watcher. She woke up a chubby, unwanted beast bride. Odette didn't ask for a second life-especially not in the body of a despised gray swan with five drop-dead-gorgeous beastmen husbands who can't even look her in the eye. Forgotten by her tribe, accused of crimes she didn't commit, and left to drown by the very men who vowed to protect her... it should've ended there. But fate-no, a shady cosmic system-had other plans. Armed with a cheat-like storage space, a secondhand body, and five cold marks on her hand proving none of her husbands ever claimed her, Odette decides it's time to rewrite this beastly romance into her own personal revenge story. Who needs loyalty when she can hoard hotter husbands? Who needs love when she can live deliciously petty? Let the ex-husbands regret. Let the new suitors line up. And let the Swan Queen rise-feathers, fat rolls, and all.

18 year old Seven is the pride of 12th Street. With a 4.0 GPA, a clean record, and a future that stretches far beyond the projects, she's the "good girl" everyone points to. She lives her life by the book, tucked safely behind the protection of her brother, Serge, and the iron gate of her porch. She's a goldfish in a shark tank, and she knows it. But the walls Serge built are starting to feel thin. Ghost is the first crack in her foundation. He's Serge's right hand, a man who has known Seven since she was in pigtails. He's respectful, steady, and moves through their house with a silent, predatory grace. He knows the "don't touch" policy better than anyone, but the way he watches her from the kitchen door tells a different story. He's the familiar danger, the one who's always there, whispering that he sees the woman she's becoming. Then there is Lucky. If Ghost is the fire, Lucky is the cold, dark eclipse. As the man who runs the neighborhood, he doesn't come inside, and he doesn't play by anyone's rules, not even Serge's. He doesn't talk much. He doesn't have to, his presence is a loud enough statement. Seven is caught in the crosshairs of two different kinds of power. One man is her brother's best friend who respects the house, the other is the street legend who intends to own it. On 12th Street, loyalty is everything... but some temptations are worth the war.

နက်ရှိုင်းအောင် + ငုဝါမောင်မောင်

Read the prologue. Hehe.

"...Is she feverish?" Harlow asked flatly. "I'm not feverish." I snapped. "You're babbling about falling out of the sky and magical doors," Harlow countered. "And your pupils are unfocused." "They are not unfocused!" Beladora stepped closer and cupped my cheeks, turning my face toward the light. "Oh, sweetheart... your eyes are a little glassy." I pulled my face back, groaning. "I'm not sick!" Harlow folder her arms. "Bel, get the thermometer." My jaw dropped. "Absolutely not." Beladora smiled warmly. Too warmly. "Absolutely yes." Harlow lifted me from the chair with one arm, like I weighed the same as a scarf and deposited me on her hip. (Picture from pinterst: @esterscanon)