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... ven with the sun still out, the winter chill was not far away.

Leaning back against the tree, he scratched his scruffy beard, waiting patiently for prey.

"Oi, Chief... think anyone’s gonna come today?"

He glanced at the speaker—a fire moth man with a small, jittery face.

Jei sneered. "Adventurers are all about making money and forging their legend. Who else would head toward the Badlands?"

"The ruins and dungeons in this region are close to a death zone. S ...

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The new book “Being Coquettish in the Arms of His Ex-Uncle and Begging for a Hug” is here, fairies, bookmark it and go home!

Cool and talented female painter VS dark-bellied and poisonous-tongued business boss

When Wen Rui met Xie Yanqing for the first time, Mo Shang was like a jade, and his son was unparalleled in the world.

When Xie Yanqing saw Wen Rui for the first time, she smiled sweetly and looked forward to her beautiful eyes. With just one glance, he knew that this girl had lived in his heart.

The noble and desolate second master Xie in the capital broke his precepts, fell in love, changed his low-key style in the past, showed his affection on the Internet every day, and even abused his own son when he abused dogs.

“Second Master, black fans on the Internet say Madam’s paintings are plagiarized!”

“Go and block his account for me, and send him to the police station.”

“Second Lord, some people in the Chinese painting circle say that Madam was hired as a senior consultant of the art institute, so there must be a financial backer!”

“Post the marriage certificate of my wife and I online.

“Second master, Madam said she wants to drink porridge from Yipinju.”

“Hurry up and buy the ingredients, how can the outside smell as good as mine?”

“Papa, can I see what you locked in the safe?”

“No, that’s a portrait your mother painted for me.”

——

One day, Wen Rui was surrounded by reporters for a post-marriage interview at the Golden Lottery Awards Ceremony.

“Miss Wen, it is rumored that you are a cold beauty. How did Second Master Xie win your heart?”

Wen Rui’s bright eyes moved slightly, and said quietly: “Rely on thick skin.”

Reporters: “…”

Someone strolled over and grabbed Wen Rui’s slender waist: “Huh? Miss Wen, the wind hasn’t moved and the flag hasn’t moved, it’s your heart that’s moving.”

That night someone put Wen Rui against the wall: “Ruirui, are you still excited?”

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