The Protagonist's Party is Too Diligent - Chapter 413

*Slow Burn Historical Fantasy Novel*

Elise had about to change into the dress that was lying on the corner of her bed when she heard a knock lightly calling from her door. Curious, she turned the door knob only to have a tall man towering in front of her.

“Master Ian!” She called.

Ian smiled with the usual mischievous smirk that he always used. His crimson eyes trailing a little over her room and spotted the black dress over her bed and shifted his eyes over to the woman in front of him. He stepped forward and spoke. “Where did you acquire that dress?”

“Mr. Harland gave it to me.” Elise replied and strained her neck to see Ian’s brows knitted in its elegance.

“Do you know why a man would love to give a woman a dress?” He gave the riddle that she always had to think twice before replying. But this time, she found no answer and instead shook her head. “I don’t know.”

His grin grew bewitching as though something had stirred deep inside the scarlet eyes that he had. He slowly slid his hand over the collar of her dress, sending a cold shiver that startled her for a moment due to its freezing temperature. After unbuttoning the first two buttons on her collar, he tilted his head down, whispering to her ears. “Because they want to be the one to undress the cloth.”

He paused and kissed her neck, turning the pale skin to red before retracting his move to fix his eyes on her and leisurely replied. “Unfortunately, you can’t wear the dress over there with this.” He chuckled and passed a box over to her hand. “And the fortunate news is I prepared a dress for you.”

Elise was a cursed little girl who could see ghosts. Her family hated her and threw her from one adoptive family to another. However, misfortune didn't act alone. When she was brought up by her aunt, she was sold as a slave. When she had thought she would become nothing but a sacrifice to the sorcerer, she was saved by a man whose identity was far different than a normal mythical being.

Writing, drawing, and occasionally pretending to be a master of calligraphy, fooling people into paying customers with a lot of money…

This is Lin Zhishui’s light and comfortable little days.

However, he didn’t know that the guests of his calligraphy and painting shop who loved the ancient style and traditional culture were actually strange people who practiced in the world.

The guests never thought that the most mysterious and unpredictable figure in the cultivation world was just a mortal who liked to play dumb puzzles?

so-called-

Cross-server communication is barrier-free, and you can rely on your brain for guidance!

After many years, Lin Zhishui finally understood the truth. Looking at the brush that had accompanied him for many years, the corners of his mouth twitched:

“This is poisonous!”

…

[ps: When you are bored, you can look at the other two works by author Jun, “I heard that I am super fierce after my death” and “The Strongest Internet God”, which are relatively short, light spray, orz]

- Description from novelbuddy

«Until death do us part.»That was our vow.And she kept it... by driving her sword through my chest.I was a hero. A symbol. The one chosen by the gods to free humanity.I fought for her. For us.But in the end, it wasn’t the demons who killed me.It was the woman I loved.Helena betrayed me.I fell with my heart shattered and my blood burning between my fingers.But death wasn’t the end.I woke up in another body, in another world...No, not exactly.I woke up inside the very story she wrote.And now, I am Daven von Riesenhart:the bastard son of a marquess, a noble outcast with a name no one respects, and a life I never asked for.I no longer believe in ideals, in gods, or in happy endings.I won’t fight for others.I won’t die for anyone.This time, I’ll live only for myself.And if surviving means deceiving, betraying, or destroying...so be it.Even if it makes me the villain of this story.

A replica of Marquis Kieran Vale, the son of the Marchioness of Vale, who she deemed a failure. That was all she was. No, she was now referred to as “he.” At least until she met Claude Del Ihar.