Cohabitation With My Ex-Husband - Chapter 293 You Have To Apologize In Place Of Your Son

“Coming live to you, from Cerou Street, this is MBP News, and we have an unfolding situation to report. Late last night, at approximately 3:00 AM, an explosive-like sound reverberated through this area, disrupting the sleep of residents and instilling fear in their hearts,” the news anchor, a striking figure, delivered the report with poise, standing before the camera amidst a bustling scene.

In the background, the blaring horns of ambulances and police vehicles disturbed the serenity of the beautiful morning light. Two individuals wearing protective suits, presumably forensic experts, held a stretcher carrying a charred body.

The news anchor, who had been reporting earlier, placed a hand on her ear, fitted with an earpiece, and looked visibly surprised. Her voice filled with urgency as she continued, “We have just received an update from our headquarters regarding the sole fatality in this unexpected incident. The victim of this tragic event is none other than Norman, the famous gigolo of Night palace.”

“My colleague, who was set to cover an event today at Nightplace, obtained this information firsthand from Countess Maria, who held a special place for Norman in her heart. Our focus this morning is on this breaking news,” the female news reporter continued amidst the chaotic scene, while Norman's charred body lay alone in the ambulance.

Meanwhile, in a different world, a young boy lay fast asleep with his head on the table. The sun, seemingly displeased with the boy's carefree slumber, cast its rays directly onto his face. Annoyed by the intrusion, the boy shifted his head in another direction, unwilling to be roused from his deep sleep.

*ZZZr Zzrz Zzrzzr* However, an additional source disturbed his sleep, filling the room with a buzzing sound. The boy furrowed his brows in annoyance, his eyes still closed. He searched his surroundings and discovered a glass-like slab. With closed eyes, he slid his finger across it and placed it near his ear.

“Hello...” he mumbled in his drowsy voice, which carried a hint of depth.

“Hey, Pissed-up Prat, where are you?” a voice laced with disdain emanated from the slab.

The boy, referred to as the “Pissed-up Prat” by the irritating female voice, recognized it as a voice he heard frequently but couldn't recall its owner. With his eyes still closed, he inquired, “Who is this?”

“What do you mean, 'who is this'? Wake up, come home, or eat shit for breakfast if you prefer!” the voice behind the transparent slab retorted before falling silent.

The boy, still not fully awakened, gazed at the half-opened glass slab with a mixture of confusion and surprise. As his eyes darted around the room, he became increasingly shocked.

As he recollected the fragmented memories from the night before he lost consciousness, his gaze fell upon the entrance of the shop. Once old and damp, it now bore a different appearance. While not transformed into a luxurious space, it had undergone improvements compared to its previously dilapidated state.

The shop took on a rectangular shape, with one longer side adorned with wooden shelves intricately patterned. Rows of empty glass jars lined these shelves. On the opposite side, there was another wooden shelf, also displaying empty jars. Towards the beginning of the counter, where the boy had been sleeping, there stood a peculiar machine.

Confusion etched across his face, he murmured to himself, “Whose shop is this?”

In response to his question, a mechanical voice resonated in his mind.

[The Omnistore belongs to you, host.]

……………………………………………………………

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Chang Qing transmigrated into a novel of having children with a rich family, and became a vicious widowed man who has been hindering the gong’s HE.

This widowed husband attracted bees and butterflies excessively. From brother-in-law to eldest cousin, he hooked up all over the place. He was finally driven out of the house with a broken leg by his brother-in-law, and was reduced to homelessness and death in the street.

The point at which Chang Qing transmigrated into happened to be the first time that the original owner, who had not yet become a widow, climbed into the bed of the gong.

Facing Lu Zheng, whose face had sank and was about to come and beat him up any minute, Chang Qing gathered up his scattered shirt and solemnly said, “… I just went to the wrong room and slept in the wrong bed. Can you believe it?”

Lu Zheng: … hehe.

In order to avoid being kicked out of the house as a beggar by Lu Zheng, Chang Qing decided to be a virtuous husband.

However, this chaste husband is not easy to do. In the book, the original owner took the initiative to hook up with all kinds of bosses and all of them in turn hooked up with him to seduce him to remarry.

Regarding these big boss’s courtship, Chang Qing refused. And the memorial archway above his head sparkled: I love my husband very much.

In the end, even the real gong, that is, his brother-in-law Lu Zheng, couldn’t help but forcibly demolish his fierce husband memorial arch, and hold him down. He gritted his teeth and threatened, “You’re not allowed to remarry. If you dare to remarry, I’ll break your legs.”.

Lu Zheng always felt that his eldest sister-in-law was coquettish, always looking at people with a hook in his eyes, and was always provocative, even daring to climb into his bed one day.

Lu Zheng was thinking about how to teach him a lesson. As a result, this man stopped being coquettish. His buttons were always fastened to the top of his shirt, and he was fully clothed. You couldn’t see any skin at all. He looked so stoic and serious. This made Lu Zheng unhappy.

He wanted to rip off his clothes and watch him continue to be coquettish.

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