Comrade: Almost a Cat-astrophic Love Story - Chapter 119 - All These Years I’ve Loved Only One Person

In a distant future, seven centuries after the cataclysmic mana storm, the world of Gaïa transformed into a realm infused with magic. The fabric of reality shifted, revealing the manifestation of stats, skills, and levels through ethereal windows, visible to all. A new era emerged, where humanity awoke to the concept of Classes, bestowing upon them unique abilities and the potential for greatness. However, only the truly exceptional would ascend to seize the Throne in this extraordinary Era of Players.Noah uttered profound words, his eyes shimmering with an unearthly force. “Life itself is akin to a prison, but fear not, for I, Death, shall set you free.”

When proposing, Gu Ningxi praised Tao Xinhe for her “perserverence and responsibility”, and on his wedding day, he vowed in public to “be one and only pair for life”.

Tao Xinhe believed it, believed it deeply, and devoted herself to being a good, virtuous wife for her faced blind husband.

Knowing that Gu Ningxi sees everyone as a tile face, she does not change her clothes or incense, and finally let him rest assured to embrace her;

She accompanies Gu Ningxi to the banquet and party, and mentions the names and origins of the guests, so that he can get rid of his arrogant name;

She accompanied Gu Ningxi while he misses his mother, endured the cold face of her grandmother, and dealt with the entanglement of her uncle and aunt, so that he would have no worries.

Yet nothing compared to that— Gu Ningxi could see Mo Qiqi’s face. In his eyes, only Mo Qiqi was vivid and pleasant, and the faces of the others were blurred.
He focused his eyes on Mo Qiqi, coaxed her softly, and allowed her to touch him. For this reason, he deceived and neglected his wife, and he couldn’t recognize Tao Xinhe who had changed her clothes.

Tao Xinhe’s heart died, determined to go, she left a letter of divorce. Her father and younger brother treated her like a jewel, she regained her spirits, and when she heard the news of her ex-husband taking Mo Qiqi into the mansion, she only smiled.

- Description from Novelupdates

The king of assassins was reborn, mastering both alchemy and poison. Sitting inside the space, there was a ghost that loved crying.

Three rejections. Three shattered dreams. That was Layla’s reality, all because she was different—a half-shifter in a world obsessed with purity. Ostracized, shunned, and finally sold off like a pawn to the most feared ruler alive—the Lycan King. He was ruthless, a king with a graveyard of brides, each one a ghostly reminder of a fate worse than death.Layla loathed him. Hated the way his gaze cold and fathomless, held no warmth for her. Hated how his touch, both thrilling and terrifying, sent an uninvited chill down her spine.---“I hate you!” I screamed, hands clenched so tight my knuckles ached.He sighed, a smirk curling at the edge of his lips, his tone mocking as he closed his book with a deliberate snap. “Stressed, are we?” he asked, strolling toward me, each step reminding me exactly who held the power here.“Lucky for you,” he drawled, rolling up his sleeves as he stopped just inches away, “I know exactly 70 ways to ease those nerves.” His fingers brushed my cheek, a touch that seemed to burn into my skin. “The first… a hug.” His voice dropped to a rough whisper as he leaned in, breath hot against my ear. “And the rest... well, that's 69? what do you say about that?”I swallowed hard, my heart thudding wildly as he tilted his head, waiting for me to react, that insufferable smirk still in place.“What’s the matter, darling?” he murmured, a taunt lingering in his gaze.---A Dangerous ObsessionCan she resist the pull, or will she dance into the flames of her own destruction?A dark dive into obsession, raw need, and the razor’s edge between desire and devastation.---LYCAN KING CASSIANI will tear her apart piece by piece, feeding the wildfire that grips her with each shuddered breath. Like air to flame, I’ll claim every inch, drawing heat from her skin until it sinks into her bones.Her pulse will race under my hands, her breaths shallow, pleading. Her eyes may scream, but her lips will still murmur my name. That first taste of fear will only feed something deeper—a need that burns through her veins, molten and fierce.And just when she’s too far gone to turn back, I’ll twist the knife, giving her the pain she’s learned to crave.She’ll be the moth to my flame, helpless against the very thing that will consume her.