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... o guest in his show?"


"I'm so disappointed. Did he run out of good artists to invite over?"


"He's one of the most respected music critics in the country, but now I think his judgment is becoming questionable. Such a shame that his standards fell to such a degree as to invite someone like Iris Long."


"Hey! Did you not watch Iris Long's performance on 'MusicFest Tonight' last night? If you did, I don't think that you'll still be spouting all that sh*t."


...

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On a large, messy bed, Cheng Lang pinched Xing Shu’s chin. The black Buddhist bracelet around his wrist swayed from side to side. Everyone said Cheng Lang was a religious man who stayed away from women.

However, after sleeping with him for a night, Xing Shu expressed how it was actually easy to manipulate him. She only needed to say sweet things to him in a soft, gentle voice, and he’d give her anything she wanted.

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“Xing Shu is a shameless woman. Mr. Cheng would never fall for someone with ulterior motives like her!”

Everyone in Jing City waited for her to make a fool of herself, but nobody knew how Cheng Lang pinned her against the bed at night. “Xing Shu, mention getting a divorce again if you dare.”

Ever since then, Cheng Lang, a man who once belonged on the altar, was brought down by Xing Shu. He experienced what it felt like to be in a relationship like a normal person, and he found joy in it.

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Mu Yue traveled to the world of Naruto and became an ordinary chuunin teacher at Konoha Ninja School and a member of the Root Organization.

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In order not to become Danzo’s consumables, Mu Yue worked hard to teach and increase her strength.

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“You…” She stepped back. Then back again, her mouth dropped open. “You… You cannot be…”

“I am,” Etan said, and his hair raked back as he pushed his mask off his handsome face. So handsome her heart raced.

His hair was ebony black, his skin a warm brown that threatened to fade in in the winter months. He stared at her with glittering green eyes, over high cheekbones and a noble nose, his jaw tight and shadowed this late in the day. His chin was high over the pillar of his neck that she’d just touched with its hard lines and steel strength, so different to her own. And his chest... She gasped and covered her eyes. She’d humiliated herself revealing her stupid, childish curiosity.

“No, Ayleth. This changes nothing.”

“How can you say that? It changes everything!” She was horrified to realize she was crying.

“Ayleth, please.” His voice cracked on the plea and she stared at him, shoving her mask up and off, despite how it would pull her hair out of the beautiful twist the maid had managed for her.

His eyes locked on hers and she couldn’t think. She couldn’t breathe.

She had met her One. And he was the son of her bloodsworn enemy.

She stared at him as he stepped forward again, offering both hands, palm up. “Touch me,” he whispered. “Hold my hands. This is real, Ayleth. I don’t know how it happened, but this is real. Please don’t deny it.”

She couldn’t resist. She raised a trembling hand to his cheek, letting her palm catch on the scruff of his jaw. He blew out a breath and put his hand over hers, and that jolt that happened whenever they touched shivered through her again.

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