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... ing to complete today’s quota.

His dark black hair shimmered a deep blue under the light of his study lamp.

Lost in his book, he heard a faint faint sound of footsteps approaching that shook him out of his world.

The sound only grew louder and louder by evening passing second. Sam however was still not done with his daily quota, his hands started shaking with fear, he tried to calm himself down but his body refused to listen.

The sound of footsteps stopped right b ...

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When you grow up, you’re mine.

~~~

Lu Feng, with her fiery character and short temper, only had one fatal weakness. That was the lukewarm and soft Xu Mu.

There were so many youths in the capital, yet she took fancy to none of them. She instead sought after her newly arrived neighbor’s sweetie and secretly planned to kidnap him home.

Until one day, the two became cousins…

Lu Feng: … That nutrient-rich water cannot flow into someone else’s field!

Xu Mu: =v=

~~~

Xu Mu: What am I to you?

Lu Feng: You are my sweetest candied fruit!

~~~

In their previous life, Xu Mu and Lu Feng were married for only half a year when she died in battle. Xu Mu couldn’t bear the news of her death and followed her three days later.

Who knew that after he died, time flowed backward and returned him to their childhood. Xu Mu sat on his bed, dazed. In this life, he needed to think of a way to first find his wife, then chase her with all his strength. Only until he made up their past life to her would he “leave”.

Xu Mu: Last life, I didn’t love you enough. This life, I want to love you even more. Starting from innocent little childhood friends to the grey-haired and weak elderly, I will not let you go.

- Description from Novelupdates

MTL - The Fugitive White Moonlight of a Powerful MinisterChapter 219 Fan Fan: The Disliked Crown Prince (already received
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In her previous life, Wen Ning was imprisoned beside Pei You and became his caged bird, bird in his palm,

Every day is not planning to escape or is on the way to escape,

In the end, he broke off his wings and died in depression.

After living a new life, Wen Ning decided to hide her identity and her temperament.

Acrimonious, short-sighted, stupid and ignorant…

The key is to love him so much.

All in all, he could do as much as he hated her.

Sure enough, Pei You in this life hated her so much that she shunned her.

Seeing her makes me want to wash my eyes.

Wen Ning is physically and mentally at ease, and can finally choose a husband with peace of mind.

On the day when the news of Wen Ning’s engagement spread throughout the city, she ran into Pei You unexpectedly.

Wen Ning decided to stand on the last post and perform the last play, hugging Pei You’s thigh and crying:

“Wow, my lord, my little girl doesn’t want to marry. Oh, my lord, the sky can learn from the sky and the moon and the sun and the moon can show my sincerity, my lord, my lord, if I don’t change my infatuation in this life, I will not marry you!”

In Wen Ning’s script, at this moment, Pei You should be ruthless and leave without giving her a single look.

But he didn’t want him to stand still, and when she was about to stop acting, he bent down slowly, and wiped away the tears in the corners of her eyes with his warm fingertips. From his eyes to his voice, there was a change from the cold charm of the past: “If that’s the case, how about marrying me?”

Wen Ning: “…………………???”

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war, blood, and betrayal carved him into something else. A legend. A killer. A mercenary whose name struck fear into both criminals and so-called heroes alike.But now, the world had changed. Lines blurred between right and wrong, between justice and vengeance. Should he step into the light, wear the mask of a hero, and fight for a cause greater than himself? Or should he embrace the darkness that had always been his home, a place where morality was just another illusion?“Don’t box me in with your shallow ideas of good and evil,” he muttered, his voice calm but edged with danger. “I do what I want, when I want.”The air was thick with tension as he moved like a shadow through the dimly lit room. The writer had no time to react—one moment, he was scribbling nonsense about legends and myths; the next, a cold barrel pressed against the back of his head.The figure smirked beneath his mask, eyes gleaming with something between amusement and menace.“You wanna write fiction?” he whispered. “Then let me show you how real legends are made.”A single gunshot shattered the silence.As the writer’s body slumped over the desk, the man holstered his weapon, stepping into the faint glow of a flickering neon light.“It’s that simple,” he said, his voice unwavering. “I’m Deathstroke.”

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