MTL - Pokemon Black Fantasy - Chapter 921 : Rebellion against the gorgeous alpaca! ! !

Three years ago, President Qiao did not hesitate to sign the papers when Xia Ning placed the divorce papers in front of him.

Three years later, she is an up-and-coming star in show biz; watched by the public but knee-deep in scandals.

He is a resolute emperor in the business world; powerful and omnipotent.

Their paths were supposed to be separate and independent, but—

Standing at her door, the legendary ruthless and unyielding diamond bachelor asks for a remarriage. A cute bun appears from behind and gazes at Xia Ning with his big, starry eyes. “Mummy, Daddy will cook, I will warm the bed, please take us in.”

- Description from Novelupdates

What? He’s transmigrated into an apocalyptic novel?

What? He transmigrated into a white lotus?

What? The white lotus killed the main character shou (bottom, uke) and even proudly became a mistress?

Oh, luckily the white lotus in the apocalypse has a thick thigh to hold on to (someone to rely on).

What? This was actually an apocalyptic rebirth revenge story?

What? The thick thigh was actually a really big cannon fodder?

Therefore, this is the dramatic story of a man who transformed into a white lotus struggling to survive in an apocalyptic rebirth revenge novel, trying to avoid the reborn pig’s foot (the original main character), and trying his best to get away from the cannon fodder gong (top, seme).

- Description from Novelupdates

He is very cold and passionate, Mu Yanwang, who means what he says. He has always regarded women as dirt but she, he has only spoiled her.

At first, he said with overbearing arrogance – “Even you are mine.” Afterwards, he gradually fell for the enemy – “Mine is yours.” Finally, he surrendered obediently, – “Ning Xiaofei, I’m also yours.”

Ning Xiaofei, his little wife. He just wants to put her in the palms of his hand, to love.

- Description from Novelupdates

The protracted ’witch hunting’ had faded into silence with the end of the Seven Years’ War, and the mysteries of the East Coast had begun to conceal themselves, yet gunpowder was on a rapid rise. Mo Qishang, who should have been utterly confounded, stood at the crossroads of destiny in the name of Arthur. He stared in astonishment at the charging knights, the wizards atop the high towers, and the bizarre wilderness. He felt the sharpness of the longsword and the recoil of the firearm, both clear and unfamiliar. At last, he excitedly shook his robe and, with a smile on his face, said— “Do not believe what I say, for to believe is to exist!”