Five Frozen Centuries - Chapter 73 - Journey to the West

This novel is also known as Daughter of the Male Protagonist

As luck would have it, Luo Shuyan unintentionally found out that she’s a character from a male protagonist novel, and she happened to be the only child of the male protagonist.

The male protagonist had intimate encounters with countless women. He rose from being one of the poorest to one of the richest in the entire kingdom. He was a man that was above all others.

Well known to all, his only weakness was his dear daughter, who had sadly passed away early on in life. Even the female protagonist, who was placed at the pinnacle of his heart, didn’t dare to mention the name of his daughter.

Luo Shuyan, who was destined to die early, was perplexed with the setting of the story.

Additionally, she found out an even more intriguing fact — The mother and son duo who lived next door to her was the heroine and son from the novel, “Child Prodigy: Story of a Delicate Mama Fleeing with Her Child”.

#A story where the male protagonist is my father. Plus, an unbelievably cliche side-story of my childhood best friend’s mother who ran away from home#

#A melting pot of stereotypical plot points between male-centered and female-centered novels#

#Sigh, what on earth is happening?#

- Description from Novelupdates

Possessing immortal arts, he can give life and he can bring death. Treading upon thousands of heroes, every corner of the city has his legend…

Word went around that no one that had ever knocked on the esteemed Eleazar family’s doors seeking shelter were turned away.Fleeing the prince of Lustris no less, Arabella Sterling held out hope that those weren’t mere rumors as she crossed the border over to Umbraria, home to all creatures of the night. A land where noble blood like hers was a highly coveted delicacy.As such, she wasn’t turned away, but since the Eleazars ran no charity, Arabella was compelled to become the sole blood provider to the heir of the family in exchange for safety.Though never, in a million years, did she imagine that what had started as a simple trade off, could morph into a swirl of tangled passion when the cold and stoic vampire she served showed interest in the young woman beyond the crimson nectar coursing her veins.

Three rejections. Three shattered dreams. That was Layla’s reality, all because she was different—a half-shifter in a world obsessed with purity. Ostracized, shunned, and finally sold off like a pawn to the most feared ruler alive—the Lycan King. He was ruthless, a king with a graveyard of brides, each one a ghostly reminder of a fate worse than death.Layla loathed him. Hated the way his gaze cold and fathomless, held no warmth for her. Hated how his touch, both thrilling and terrifying, sent an uninvited chill down her spine.---“I hate you!” I screamed, hands clenched so tight my knuckles ached.He sighed, a smirk curling at the edge of his lips, his tone mocking as he closed his book with a deliberate snap. “Stressed, are we?” he asked, strolling toward me, each step reminding me exactly who held the power here.“Lucky for you,” he drawled, rolling up his sleeves as he stopped just inches away, “I know exactly 70 ways to ease those nerves.” His fingers brushed my cheek, a touch that seemed to burn into my skin. “The first… a hug.” His voice dropped to a rough whisper as he leaned in, breath hot against my ear. “And the rest... well, that's 69? what do you say about that?”I swallowed hard, my heart thudding wildly as he tilted his head, waiting for me to react, that insufferable smirk still in place.“What’s the matter, darling?” he murmured, a taunt lingering in his gaze.---A Dangerous ObsessionCan she resist the pull, or will she dance into the flames of her own destruction?A dark dive into obsession, raw need, and the razor’s edge between desire and devastation.---LYCAN KING CASSIANI will tear her apart piece by piece, feeding the wildfire that grips her with each shuddered breath. Like air to flame, I’ll claim every inch, drawing heat from her skin until it sinks into her bones.Her pulse will race under my hands, her breaths shallow, pleading. Her eyes may scream, but her lips will still murmur my name. That first taste of fear will only feed something deeper—a need that burns through her veins, molten and fierce.And just when she’s too far gone to turn back, I’ll twist the knife, giving her the pain she’s learned to crave.She’ll be the moth to my flame, helpless against the very thing that will consume her.