Love letters are not allowed in the exorcism notebook! - Chapter 821 - 68 Miss He Was Not Much Aggrieved

On the Star Network there is a gourmet food broadcast, where all you can see are a pair of hands. However each dish that this broadcast comes out with is earthshakingly delicious. What’s more, the broadcast anchor’s voice is simply perfect!

The Immortal stroked the top of my head, and as my hair was tied up, I was bestowed with eternal life.IBM z15, 190 CPUs, 40T of memory, 12.2 billion transistorsArriving in the Cultivation World with a portable data center space, a tale of cultivation aided by the IBM z15.All for the sake of immortality!

As a naive teenager, he was unaware of his own superiority.Shang Xiaojie realized the violent man who had tricked him into a hotel was actually his brother-in-law.He struggled and tears streamed down his face as he pleaded, “Let me go, you idiotic beast!”“I may be foolish, but a beast? Can’t you at least admit to that?” he asked.After drugging Shang Xiaojie, he callously taunted, “You’re just a male prostitute who comes running whenever I snap my fingers. You’re nothing, Shang Xiaojie.”Devastated, Shang Xiaojie swore, “Mussaf, I hate you and I’ll make you regret this.”Upon his return five years later, he was accompanied by a young boy.Shang Mingming asked, “Is that man my father?”Shang Xiaojie responded coldly, “No, I don’t know someone like him.”Furious, Mussaf demanded, “Where are you taking my son?”Shang Xiaojie grinned and replied nonchalantly, “I’m getting married to another man. There’s nothing you can do about it.”

What happens when, in the midst of struggling to keep up with life, you suddenly discover that you were a princess in a past life? Now, you're just a waitress with a drunken mother and a pile of bills to pay. But deep down, you know one thing: you’ll find the stupid jerk responsible for ending your royal life, no matter what it takes.Alexia POV:Then there are the spoiled, narcissistic rich jerks who think their daddy's car gives them a free pass to treat women like objects. Not today, Satan. These guys are like walking perfume ads with egos bigger than their bank accounts. I swear, they should just marry themselves—they're clearly their own type.When one of those jerks lands at my table, I can smell the entitlement from a mile away. I don't even wait for the inevitable sleazy pickup line or the “accidental” brush of their hand against mine. Nope. I pawn them off on one of the other waiters faster than you can say “unpaid rent.”