The Primordial Record - Chapter 20: Those Who Returned

In the 21st century, she was the outstanding world renowned darling of the field of archeology. Then, she transmigrated and became Jinjiang city’s Ji Family’ Third Miss, a small malnourished girl who starved to death. She was unfavored by her father and treated like air by the rest. Therefore, just to earn money and feed herself she had to return to her old profession – being a forensic anthropologist.

With a pair of dextrous hands, she stroked and examined those clickety white bones to solve old and dusty unresolved cases.

He was a handsome cold prince. Just to see the beauty smile, he would not hesitate to throw away his moral principles and repeatedly flirt with her.

In the end, he only received a supercilious look from her, as she declared “Prince, one touch is a 1,000 taels.”

“Then, this prince will give you 10,000 taels for a kiss!”

The world I reincarnated into was a world that enabled you to use magic after having read a Grimoire.

And the Grimoire’s contents areーー you wouldn’t believe it- it’s 「Manga」.

This world’s people would take around a year to read a single Grimoire (Manga)

While for me, it would not take an hour, as it was「Manga」

Interpreting and understanding all kinds of Grimoires, the 6 year old me who became the World’s Strongest Master Mage, welcomed brides that were also 6 years old, and started living a carefree life……!!

After retiring from the special forces, Ye Tian is hired by a beautiful boss as her personal bodyguard, leading to a colorful and adventurous life for him...

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.”