Rebirth of the Tyrant’s Pet: Regent Prince is too Fierce - Chapter 387: Disappointment And Struggle (2)

He had served in the strongest Special Forces, Heavenly Sword Special Force. As the commando of commandos, he created the Netherworld in the western underground world and became the formidable Oriental Yama. He said, “I’m Liu Feng. I’m adept at two things: killing and saving. If I want to cure someone, even ghost soldiers can’t take him away; if I want to kill someone, God can’t save him.” Now he was the bodyguard of Yang Shiwen, who was the daughter of the richest family in Donghai City and suffered from a rare disease. Could Liu Feng save Yang Shiwen’s life with his amazing art of healing? What would happen to his double life?

[This is a story of the struggle of a daughter-in-law, and it is also a story of making Aojiao Lengye a peerless good man. 】

Chu Qianqian was ill, and after recovering, it was a blessing in disguise. He could cook and treat people.

He was once abandoned by the scumbag because of his bad horoscope, and then he was invited back by the scumbag because the horoscope was too good.

But at this time, she is no longer the cowardly and incompetent “she” she used to be.

Want her to marry? Yes you can.

First spit out her mother’s dowry, and then drive the disgusting mother-in-law off the stage, and those little white flowers who tried to rob her of her marriage—

“Let me go, I’ll come.” I don’t know when, he stood behind her, hugged her waist tightly, and declared that in the world, whoever bullied her, humiliated her, or harmed her, he would destroy him.

Looking at this man who can’t even provoke the emperor, a warm current flowed in her heart, but she took a step back and said firmly–

“It’s not impossible for me to marry you, but let’s talk about it first. I don’t care if you are married or not, but I will never share a husband with other women after marriage. If you agree, I will marry; if you don’t agree, I will run away!”

escape?

He pinched her chin, “Stinky girl, give me a try to escape?”

(This article focuses on the happy life of the heroine, one-on-one, no abuse, please collect, leave a message, and take it away!)

Recommend your own conclusion:

Rebirth Revenge Shuangwen:

“The Unrequited Wife’s Belly Black Concubine” http://www.xxsy.net/info/559913.html

Micro-reasoning sweet text:

“Houmen Spring: The Concubine of Gold” http://www.xxsy.net/info/642108.html

- Description from novelbuddy

Three rejections. Three shattered dreams. That was Layla’s reality, all because she was different—a half-shifter in a world obsessed with purity. Ostracized, shunned, and finally sold off like a pawn to the most feared ruler alive—the Lycan King. He was ruthless, a king with a graveyard of brides, each one a ghostly reminder of a fate worse than death.Layla loathed him. Hated the way his gaze cold and fathomless, held no warmth for her. Hated how his touch, both thrilling and terrifying, sent an uninvited chill down her spine.---“I hate you!” I screamed, hands clenched so tight my knuckles ached.He sighed, a smirk curling at the edge of his lips, his tone mocking as he closed his book with a deliberate snap. “Stressed, are we?” he asked, strolling toward me, each step reminding me exactly who held the power here.“Lucky for you,” he drawled, rolling up his sleeves as he stopped just inches away, “I know exactly 70 ways to ease those nerves.” His fingers brushed my cheek, a touch that seemed to burn into my skin. “The first… a hug.” His voice dropped to a rough whisper as he leaned in, breath hot against my ear. “And the rest... well, that's 69? what do you say about that?”I swallowed hard, my heart thudding wildly as he tilted his head, waiting for me to react, that insufferable smirk still in place.“What’s the matter, darling?” he murmured, a taunt lingering in his gaze.---A Dangerous ObsessionCan she resist the pull, or will she dance into the flames of her own destruction?A dark dive into obsession, raw need, and the razor’s edge between desire and devastation.---LYCAN KING CASSIANI will tear her apart piece by piece, feeding the wildfire that grips her with each shuddered breath. Like air to flame, I’ll claim every inch, drawing heat from her skin until it sinks into her bones.Her pulse will race under my hands, her breaths shallow, pleading. Her eyes may scream, but her lips will still murmur my name. That first taste of fear will only feed something deeper—a need that burns through her veins, molten and fierce.And just when she’s too far gone to turn back, I’ll twist the knife, giving her the pain she’s learned to crave.She’ll be the moth to my flame, helpless against the very thing that will consume her.