Transmigration: From Dragon Princess To Pampered Granddaughter - Chapter 809 - 806 I Won’t Treat You Badly

Shi Qian’s stepmother set her up and forced her to marry a vegetative man. There were three good things about him. He was rich, handsome… and unable to wake up! Fu Sinian, who had been in a coma for more than three years, woke up and found that he suddenly had a wife. His petite wife was fair, beautiful and had long legs.“If you don’t love me, I don’t need you!” Fu Sinian said and coldly threw out the divorce papers.Not long after, the famous Shi Qian was caught in a photograph in the bigshot, Fu Sinian’s luxurious car. Fu Sinian publicly clarified this and said, “Miss Shi and I are acquainted.”Netizens: “Are you guys only acquaintances?

They’re both being driven around in the same car! We’re waiting for you to slap us in the face with your words, Young Master Fu! Nine million fans are watching and waiting!” Not long after, Shi Qian, who was popular in the circle, was once again photographed entering the hotel at the same time as Fu Sinian and only came out after three days. Fu Sinian clarified again, “Miss Shi and I are not in that kind of relationship. We’re not dating.”Netizens: “Mr. Fu must have failed in his pursuit!

If there was a girl Young Master Fu can’t handle in this world, it must be their goddess, Shi Qian!”Thirty million fans continued to eat popcorn and watch the drama! Later, Shi Qian, who has two hundred million fans, had morning sickness while at the Best Actress Award Ceremony! Fu Sinian walked onto the stage slowly and hugged Shi Qian’s waist and said, “Thank you for everyone’s concern. Mrs. Fu is pregnant with our second child!”All two hundred million fans were confused. The beautiful Shi Qian was pregnant with her second child? They were watching the drama unfold all the way! When did they fail to keep up?

Reincarnated with major advantages selected in haste. The new world is vast and hostile...a world almost infinite in scope. Essentially a Dyson Sphere created by magic and sustained by magic. A World Sphere. Can the MC delve into the mysteries of the sphere?

America, 1980. No sooner had Xu Yi transmigrated than he was put on the dissection table; then he gradually came to understand the true nature of this world. “Studying medicine can’t exorcise undead demons; I must become an exorcist!” he resolved silently to himself. On a misty, rain-soaked night. “Miss Evil Spirit over there, the night is cold and damp; be careful not to catch a chill! Come over here and warm yourself by the fire!” Xu Yi said, holding a lighter, as the pale gold flame slowly approached the other. The Evil Spirit shrank back, looking at Xu Yi with fear. “Don’t be afraid, I just want to warm you up...” Xu Yi’s face broke into a warm smile, “by setting you on fire!” Ding dong! Ding dong! “Sign-in at the Land of Fear successful, Resurrection Coin awarded!” “Synthesis pathway requirements met, do you wish to combine the following entries?” Psychic + Scholar + Painter = Psychic Painter! Saintly Offspring + Gunfight Technique + Revolver Mastery = Holy Gunslinger! Undead + Revelation + Holy Nation = God!

It's simple. A vengeful wildfire of a woman. A tyrant who begs to be burned.When Aria crashes into Kael’s empire, hellbent on making him pay for taking her job away, she’s met not with defiance—but a dare. “You want revenge?” he taunts, voice dripping with dark invitation.“Then ruin me. Take your pound of flesh exactly where it hurts.” His proposition is a trap laced with sin: As expected he calls the shots in his bed, her contempt is his twisted aphrodisiac.“Hate me until your hands shake,” he growls. “But do it on top of me, where I can watch you savor every cut.”Their arrangement is a collision of dominance and delirium. Aria wields her fury like a blade, determined to break him. Kael? He thrives under her wrath, goading her darker, deeper, hungrier.But vengeance turns slippery when every command she hisses ignites his obedience, and every cold glare melts into bruising kisses. Soon, the bed becomes a battleground—her nails carving victory into his skin, his whispers a serpent’s promise: “Chain me with your rage, darling. I’ll still come back for more.”The rules are simple: No mercy. No surrender. But as their games spiral into something ravenous, who’s destroying whom? And when hatred burns this hot, what’s left when the ashes cool?