Little Wife's Diary: My Husband is My Boss! - Chapter 7: Her Lingering Fragrance

You were taken to another world by a ghost ship.

You are uneasy.

There are ravings in your ears, accompanied by weird bgm, you sing and dance rap in pain.

You pick up a magic lamp, and after making a wish, it says it’s just a lamp.

You are impoverished, and you swear by your personality that you made a deal with the devil, and in the end the devil was sold by you.

You are walking on the road, and you meet a down-and-out princess who is begging for a child with a lot of money, and you yell “Mom~” in the street out of the principle of helping others

In the middle of the night, you flipped through the pages of “Ten Thousand and One Nights” in your hand, and your excitement became stronger and stronger…

- Description from novelbuddy

An inexplicable danger lurks within the harbor, where numerous containers emit a pungent stench. Suddenly, crew members fell ill and began to wildly attack other people. The text that appeared out of thin air told her that this was a survival game.

Fu Anan thought that it was just a dream, and that she wouldn’t be affected by it once she woke up.

It wasn’t until the game told her: She would die if she didn’t follow the rules of the game. She would also die if she didn’t survive for at least thirty days in the game…

Unknown danger on the cruise ship; An isolated island that suffocates people; creatures inside the fog; Floods that engulf everything; Epidemic with no cure; Constantly collapsing lands……

How should one survive in various natural and man-made disasters, and in environments where resources are scarce?

- Description from Novelupdates

[This is a story of the struggle of a daughter-in-law, and it is also a story of making Aojiao Lengye a peerless good man. 】

Chu Qianqian was ill, and after recovering, it was a blessing in disguise. He could cook and treat people.

He was once abandoned by the scumbag because of his bad horoscope, and then he was invited back by the scumbag because the horoscope was too good.

But at this time, she is no longer the cowardly and incompetent “she” she used to be.

Want her to marry? Yes you can.

First spit out her mother’s dowry, and then drive the disgusting mother-in-law off the stage, and those little white flowers who tried to rob her of her marriage—

“Let me go, I’ll come.” I don’t know when, he stood behind her, hugged her waist tightly, and declared that in the world, whoever bullied her, humiliated her, or harmed her, he would destroy him.

Looking at this man who can’t even provoke the emperor, a warm current flowed in her heart, but she took a step back and said firmly–

“It’s not impossible for me to marry you, but let’s talk about it first. I don’t care if you are married or not, but I will never share a husband with other women after marriage. If you agree, I will marry; if you don’t agree, I will run away!”

escape?

He pinched her chin, “Stinky girl, give me a try to escape?”

(This article focuses on the happy life of the heroine, one-on-one, no abuse, please collect, leave a message, and take it away!)

Recommend your own conclusion:

Rebirth Revenge Shuangwen:

“The Unrequited Wife’s Belly Black Concubine” http://www.xxsy.net/info/559913.html

Micro-reasoning sweet text:

“Houmen Spring: The Concubine of Gold” http://www.xxsy.net/info/642108.html

- Description from novelbuddy

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.”