Lord of Flames - Chapter 485

After Jiang Cheng transmigrated to the Cultivation World, he discovered he had no talent for cultivation, but he was unexpectedly gifted in making talismans.……Buyer, “Jiang, I need some talismans for self-protection.”Jiang Cheng, “This Fireball Technique is perfect for you.”A few days later.Buyer, “Jiang, there’s something not quite right with this Fireball Technique?”Jiang Cheng, “Is there fire?”Buyer, “Indeed, it did catch fire.”Jiang Cheng, “And the ball?”Buyer, “I did see it.”Jiang Cheng, “Did it protect you?”Buyer, “It left me exposed.”Jiang Cheng, “???”Jiang Cheng, “Then you would like…”Buyer, “I would like to buy another hundred million of them!”

In the eyes of Chi Zuxu, Chi Yi is a typical delinquent with the three big ‘NOs’— no morals, no virtues, no principles. To her, though, he is a classic baddie who is heartless, soulless, and inhuman.

After the girl breaks and climbs through his glass window on the second story, she peeps at him with an innocent demeanor.

“Chi Zuxu, lend me the other half of your bed!” she wolf-whistles at him blatantly. The man admonishes with a scowl, “Chi Yi, aren’t you shameless!”

Inside the cinema, as Chi Yi’s little hands restlessly grope the man’s body without chagrin, she tells him smilingly, “Chi Zuxu, I want to do bad things with you!” Holding a look of woeful disgrace, he knocks her head. “Chi Yi, aren’t you embarrassed!”

It is a lovely love story between a barefaced and a reticent. But, Mr Reticient, please don’t cry when Miss Barefaced finally slips away.

“Old Tang, you activated speed-related Genetic Base Points. What’s the direction of those Base Points?”

This question caused Tang Ting to have a melancholic expression.

“It’s… Hand speed…” “And the right hand at that!”

Xu Tui slipped onto a daze.

Hand speed and the right hand. This image…

Didn’t the teacher say that it was easier to activate the Base Points of the areas you use the most?

“Old Tang, just what do you use your hands for?”

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.