Swallowed Star 2: Origin Continent - Chapter 11: The First Closed-Door Cultivation

His father is Shang Shuling,
Mother is the princess,
The brothers in the clan are all Jiang Zuo’s talents, and they are all romantic.
“The occasion of the clergyman is really separated by the sky.”
So until she got married, Luoshen still couldn’t understand – this Jiangbei Yuhuang military commander, who she hadn’t even heard of the name not long ago, was born in the Han family, why would she dare to propose to her father?

Overhead, male rebirth.

- Description from novelbuddy

“You mean that Prince Yu wants to marry me?”

When an alien ambassador crash-lands in Tim's backyard and demands, 'Take me to your leader,' the 12-year-old does what any kid would do: he points to himself and says, 'That’s me. I’m the King of Earth.'Now, thanks to a hastily signed treaty (and a promise to hand over Jupiter), Tim’s got an armory of world-ending alien tech, an invulnerable Planetary Base in his backyard treehouse, and one tiny problem: nobody told him ruling a planet would be this hard. Between conquering Earth, fending off hostile fleets, outsmarting intergalactic bureaucrats, and explaining his absences to his Trekkie dad, Tim’s in way over his head. But if he can’t bluff his way through alien diplomacy fast, humanity might end up as collateral damage.“King of All I Survey” is a fun, heart-pounding sci-fi adventure where one kid’s lie decides the fate of Earth—and homework is nothing compared to intergalactic war.

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.”