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After dinner, Qi Yunduo suggested going to KTV. She still could not bear to part with Zhao Yunxiao and wanted to spend more time with him.

However, Xu Jiaojiao had to go back and draw, so she rejected the invitation.

Zhao Yunxiao did not want to go either. He said that he had to go back and write his thesis. He was already in his fourth year and was about to graduate, so it was only natural for him to work on his thesis.

Qi Yunduo was an understanding girl. When she ...

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Accidentally traveled to the ancient mysterious tribe, how to survive?
Waiting online, very anxious!
They come, the security!
Fei Li started his new life in the ancient tribe.
It’s okay to grow vegetables and study food, life is leisurely!
It’s just that facing the harassment of orcs every day makes him feel dizzy.
One night, he quietly climbed onto Lausanne’s couch.
The next day, he shyly said, “Lausang, you have to be responsible to me!”
Since then, he has a fat leg on the list, and he has no worries about food and clothing in the tribe, and no one dares to miss him.
Before she had time to be proud, she was taken back to the couch by someone.
“Since they are all responsible, then I will not be polite!”
“Hey… I lost my wife and lost my army!”
Shuangjie, 1v1, fierce wolf attack x modern omnipotent
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- Description from novelbuddy

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Elara was not a nosy person, but something about her supposedly perfect boss helplessly weeping at night in an empty office triggered her curiosity.Mr. Terrence, her boss, was the ideal image of perfection: powerful, rich, and amiable. There had not been a single flaw in him until the day she saw the crack in his mask.Not only was he not the dominant figure she had assumed, but he was also clingy, sweet, and... wasn’t this the ideal puppy boyfriend?! How was this possible? Her boss was actually a secret softie!Follow Elara as she navigates the chaotic relationship with her 'perfect' boss, filled with nothing but surprises!

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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.”