Don't Come to Wendy's Flower House - Chapter 159-End

In a world where fate is scripted and power determines survival, Arthur Nightingale was never meant to shine.When he awakens in the world of Saga of the Divine Swordsman, he isn’t the destined hero, the villain, or even a major side character—he’s an extra. A nobody. A mere background figure in the shadow of Lucifer Windward, the overpowered protagonist who will one day ascend beyond gods.But Arthur knows the truth.The world he now inhabits is doomed. The plot is destined for a catastrophic downfall, and the so-called “geniuses” will not be enough to stop the tide of destruction. Armed with knowledge of future events and his own will to defy fate, Arthur refuses to be just an extra.

⚠️ WARNING ⚠️THIS NOVEL PARTICIPATED IN WSA 2025!---Nero Vaelheim. A name etched in history as that of a fleeting antagonist, a mere stepping stone for the heroes.But what if the pawn refused to be sacrificed?When a devoted reader is reborn in the body of this doomed villain, he has only one goal: to break the script, rewrite his fate… and bend this world to his own rules.After all, why settle for being an obstacle when you can become the ultimate threat?

After three days of working nonstop, Cheng Zhaoci has transmigrated (read: had a stroke) as is everyone’s wish.

What does it feel like to transmigrate into a male, the rarer s*x of the insectoid race?

Cheng Zhaoci would reply, ‘yeah never mind that, there is still work that is my job to do.’

One day, the internet of the insectoids that had a sore lack of entertainment media suddenly featured a new account that had short serial comics. The comics had sweet love, passionate fighting, and all sorts of imaginative stories. Many fans flock to follow this account. Of course, many shemales were sceptical of the 1-to-1 monogamous love depicted in those comics.

Later, when Wing Commander Wei Zhuo was deep behind enemy lines, his xiongzhu, the Wing Commander Cheng Zhaoci came to rescue him without hesitation. That is when the shemales realised – there certainly can be sweet, sweet, love. It just doesn’t belong to them.

The shemales only want to smile and wave them away.

- Description from Novelupdates

They say opposite attracts, that's a lie. Opposites kill each other!When a hot blood meets another hot blood, things are bound to get burnt.That is exactly what happens when the pompous and prideful elven princess, Neriah of the Avelah Kingdom is forced to marry the brash dragon Prince, Barak of the Trago Kingdom.Neriah's goal is to someday break away from her marriage and run away with the love of her life, Lyle of the Niles. While Barak will do everything to keep her as a wife.Neriah is certain she's in love with another, but she's also certain that no one can ignite the kind of passion her husband brings. Her husband who she hates more than anything.Can the flames of passion be drawn from hate? Can that same passion burn down the walls of lies, betrayal, and hurt? Can its ashes transcend into love?Excerpt“I am a rose, a beautiful flower, delicate and precious! But you my dear sir are nothing but the thorny stem! Prickly, dangerous and very harmful!” ranted Neriah while poking his chest with her index finger.“Well you seem to forget one important detail, my love.” He calmly grabbed her poking hand.“And what would that be, my fine sir?”“That the thorny stem and the rose grow together. The delicate rose and the prickly thorn, they belong together my dear.”“You—”“And no amount of ranting and raging will change that. You think I want to keep a witch like you? You are a pain in the neck. If I am a thorn then you are a piece of fish bone stuck inside my neck. I cannot swallow and I can not spit it out! I just have to bear it!”“You insolent bastard! Do you mean to say I am a burden!”“Well you are no precious prize, are you?”And that was it, she threw herself at him with her claws ready to mar his face, but he was quicker and he caught both her hands with one of his own and pressed her heaving chest upon his. Golden eyes stared deep into hers. They were as green as the fresh leaves on an orange tree.His fingers caressed her face, “You might not be a precious prize, but by the heavens, you are mine.” And his lips fell on hers, and once again, another argument was drowned.