God of Music - Chapter 122. Autumn is the Season of Men (3)

[Mature Content]

‘All it took was breaking one rule that she was not supposed to’

He was the bad boy with tattoos. She was the good girl with glasses, and she was his.

—

When Julianne Winters decides to move to the dormitory of the reputed University, she has everything planned so that she can complete her graduation and leave the place. But her plan is quick to catch fire from the moment the eyes of Roman Moltenore from senior year lands on her. And his appearance screams nothing but TROUBLE.

“What rules?” Julianne asked with a frown as she read through the page. She was sure she hadn't seen any rules of the campus mentioned on their website.

# 4. No using cell phones.

# 12. Students should not roam outside the campus after eleven in the night.

The further she read, the more bizarre it turned out to be. Her friend turned the page and then pointed at the last rule # 29. Listen to Roman Moltenore.

“This is made up. Look, the last one is even written in pencil.” Julianne couldn't believe that her friend from the next dorm thought she would fall for it. “And no phone?”

“It is important you abide by all the rules. Especially number twenty nine,” said the girl in a serious tone. “Remember not to get involved with Roman. If you happened to see him, run in the other direction. There is a reason why it is written down here.”

With the rules of the campus, she resorts to sending handwritten letters to her uncle. But who knew it would end up in someone else’s hand!

Shen Sui’an penetrated into a book of dog-blooded beauty and became the white moonlight of early death that four scumbags could not seek.
He tore up the script, took his lover into the Imperial Marshal’s Palace, drank tea every day, basked in the sun, rua rua seriously injured the unconscious plant lion, and by the way teased the soldier orphans adopted by the Gu family – a group of plush cubs , the days were pretty cool.
As a result, one day, the plant lion suddenly woke up, returned to human form, and blocked him in the corner.
The man’s face is handsome, his physique is strong, and he has been in the top position for a long time, giving people a strong sense of oppression.
At this moment, his brows and eyes were downcast, revealing a pitiful meaning for no reason, “When I was in a coma, I said that I liked me the most. I finally woke up. Why do you only play with those little cubs?”
Shen Sui’an: “…”
***
Overhearing the big lion that turned into a human shape discussing a proposal for marriage, Shen Sui’an was struck by thunder and ran away all night in fright.
A few days later, there was a knock on the door, and the big lion squatted obediently, with a wooden sign hanging around his neck: Homeless, seeking adoption.
Seeing that Shen Suian was unmoved, it lay down silently, its tail hooked on Shen Suian’s hand and pressed against its soft belly.
The wooden sign was turned over, revealing the following line: touch my stomach, be responsible for me.
Shen Sui’an: Hello, the Imperial Police Station? There are lions touching porcelain here!

Playful plush control is attacked by x stuffy big lion

Content tags: Interstellar sweet text cool text cute pet
Search keywords: Protagonist: Shen Sui’an ┃ Supporting role: Gu Beimo ┃ Others:
One sentence introduction: Eating melons and watching dramas, rua lions, cool!
Purpose: to break through the predicament and move towards a better life

- Description from novelbuddy

There’s an ancient saying in Great Ruins, ‘Don’t go outside when it’s dark.’

I am Racist.…I mean, my name is Racis T.I was a stand-up comedian. The flop kind. The type who only got laughs when someone else was roasting him.One night, I was doing a gig at a shady, run-down bar—the kind where tattooed bikers drink motor oil for breakfast. I went in with my usual dark humor, but my jokes were getting the same reaction as my dating profile: complete silence.That didn’t sit right with my inner artist, who was already starving to death. So I did what any committed comedian would—I went darker.Turns out, one of my jokes (or all of them?) triggered a guy so hard that he pulled a trigger. Headshot. Instant death.But hey, look at this: A guy got triggered, so he pulled the trigger. That’s wordplay. But who cares? I’m dead anyway.All I wanted was a successful show, people laughing, and maybe a few girls swooning over my wit. I never cared about money. The millions I’d have made would have gone to charity—specifically, 0.001% of it. See? I’m generous like that.Anyway, death is death. My story should’ve ended there.But… if there is an afterlife, I had a simple wish: become a successful comedian, find a loving wife, and have just enough money to afford three meals a day… and maybe a humble little private yacht. Or a jet. But that’s it. Because, like I said, I don’t care about money.Unfortunately, wishes don’t work that way.Because, well—there was an afterlife.And it was absolutely not what I wished for.