Forgotten Legend of the Bloodied Flower - Chapter 6 - Caring Grandfather (2)

Yu Fei was sabotaged by her peers at a celebratory gala. They pushed her into a hotel room, but it turned out to be the wrong one! The four men who were hired ended up waiting for nothing the entire night. Meanwhile, Yu Fei found herself crossing paths with the noblest and most dangerous man in Nan City!

Ever since then, the cold Mr. Feng began pampering his wife endlessly. She liked making movies, and so he casually invested several hundred million. He’d let her become an internationally acclaimed director and celebrity if that’s what she wanted!

“I, Feng Yi, want to pamper this woman. Does anybody have a problem with that?” Mr. Feng asked.

One day, a reporter asked him this question. “Mr. Feng, what do you do when you get home each day?”

“I spend time with my wife,” he answered.

“Are you showing your affection for her?” The audience thought out loud.

“Mr. Feng, what’s your hobby?” The reporter asked.

“Spending time with my wife,” he answered.

“That’s impossible… Absolutely impossible!” The audience exclaimed.

“Mr. Feng, what is most important to you?” The reporter asked.

“Spending time with my wife,” he answered.

“Do you think you’re the only person with a wife?” The audience asked.

The bigshot, who was rumored to be a cold and merciless man, actually loved his wife to pieces. His greatest hobby was to pamper his wife in every way imaginable!

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In her past life, Jun MuYan had a hard life and died miserably. Her unborn child was ripped from her to be refined as an elixir, and even her own flesh was used as someone else’s stepping stone.

“Coming live to you, from Cerou Street, this is MBP News, and we have an unfolding situation to report. Late last night, at approximately 3:00 AM, an explosive-like sound reverberated through this area, disrupting the sleep of residents and instilling fear in their hearts,” the news anchor, a striking figure, delivered the report with poise, standing before the camera amidst a bustling scene.

In the background, the blaring horns of ambulances and police vehicles disturbed the serenity of the beautiful morning light. Two individuals wearing protective suits, presumably forensic experts, held a stretcher carrying a charred body.

The news anchor, who had been reporting earlier, placed a hand on her ear, fitted with an earpiece, and looked visibly surprised. Her voice filled with urgency as she continued, “We have just received an update from our headquarters regarding the sole fatality in this unexpected incident. The victim of this tragic event is none other than Norman, the famous gigolo of Night palace.”

“My colleague, who was set to cover an event today at Nightplace, obtained this information firsthand from Countess Maria, who held a special place for Norman in her heart. Our focus this morning is on this breaking news,” the female news reporter continued amidst the chaotic scene, while Norman's charred body lay alone in the ambulance.

Meanwhile, in a different world, a young boy lay fast asleep with his head on the table. The sun, seemingly displeased with the boy's carefree slumber, cast its rays directly onto his face. Annoyed by the intrusion, the boy shifted his head in another direction, unwilling to be roused from his deep sleep.

*ZZZr Zzrz Zzrzzr* However, an additional source disturbed his sleep, filling the room with a buzzing sound. The boy furrowed his brows in annoyance, his eyes still closed. He searched his surroundings and discovered a glass-like slab. With closed eyes, he slid his finger across it and placed it near his ear.

“Hello...” he mumbled in his drowsy voice, which carried a hint of depth.

“Hey, Pissed-up Prat, where are you?” a voice laced with disdain emanated from the slab.

The boy, referred to as the “Pissed-up Prat” by the irritating female voice, recognized it as a voice he heard frequently but couldn't recall its owner. With his eyes still closed, he inquired, “Who is this?”

“What do you mean, 'who is this'? Wake up, come home, or eat shit for breakfast if you prefer!” the voice behind the transparent slab retorted before falling silent.

The boy, still not fully awakened, gazed at the half-opened glass slab with a mixture of confusion and surprise. As his eyes darted around the room, he became increasingly shocked.

As he recollected the fragmented memories from the night before he lost consciousness, his gaze fell upon the entrance of the shop. Once old and damp, it now bore a different appearance. While not transformed into a luxurious space, it had undergone improvements compared to its previously dilapidated state.

The shop took on a rectangular shape, with one longer side adorned with wooden shelves intricately patterned. Rows of empty glass jars lined these shelves. On the opposite side, there was another wooden shelf, also displaying empty jars. Towards the beginning of the counter, where the boy had been sleeping, there stood a peculiar machine.

Confusion etched across his face, he murmured to himself, “Whose shop is this?”

In response to his question, a mechanical voice resonated in his mind.

[The Omnistore belongs to you, host.]

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She is a descendant of an Ancient Chinese Aristocratic family. Having just transmigrated into a young lady’s body filled with aphrodisiacs, she had no choice but to pounce at a random man upon arrival.