MTL - Love Rival Romance System - Chapter 58 milk

Yuan Ye and film emperor Fang Shaoyi were married for ten years. After a stamp from the Ministry of Civil Affairs, they got divorced and their red booklets became green booklets. Back when they had gotten married, they had proudly announced the news to the whole world. After their divorce, though, neither dared to speak up, determined to hide this development.

“Gege, what does cultivating feelings mean?? Is kissing when you eat someone’s mouth?? How are children born??” The 3-year-old Xiao Tu likes to chase after her ChangZhi gege and ask questions…

Ten years old Cheng Zhiyan had always seemed been studious and hardworking. However, when he heard these three questions, he was stunned and fled in an instant… until one day, a certain thirteen-year-old Xiao Tu pressed Cheng Zhiyan to the wall and kissed him. Then she smacked her lips to savor the taste and said: “It turns out that when you kiss orange juice, it really taste like orange juice ah…” the always calm and indifferent Cheng ZhiYan, once again fled in defeat.

**TN: ChengZhi Yan’s name sounds like orange juice

- Description from Novelupdates

Some say he is the bad apple in a basket, that he’s rotting everything around him with disgrace and corruption.

Some say he is the biggest scum of the South Zhanbu Continent, that he’s colluding with the dark sects to cheat, steal, and commit all manner of atrocities.

Some say he is the most wanted playboy. “Lock your daughters at home to keep Fang Xing away!”

To all of those people, “That’s right, I am that big rotten apple. Any problem with that?”

This brand of anti-hero is a young orphan with poor prospects and nothing more than the keepsakes of his uncles. He plots, schemes, and orchestrates all manner of villainy in his quest for power and revenge, unafraid to live precariously and make enemies out of those he really should not.

- Description from Novelupdates

It was understood that this was a capitalist country, where the possession of the greatest amount of capital determined to whom the nation effectively belonged.The smile that had been resting on William Sheffield’s face was abruptly erased as his expression turned cold. In a tone laced with determination, it was demanded by him that the police be contacted immediately so that they could crush those who stood in their way. The reasoning behind his words seemed clear: if such actions had been taken before by someone like Rockefeller, then why should it not also be possible for Sheffield?A sense of irony hung in the air as the sentiment was expressed—this was America, where each day seemed to unfold as though it were part of an ongoing shootout, with battles fought not just with guns but with power, influence, and wealth.