MTL - Beast Piercing The Heavens - Chapter 8 Sister’s whisper

“Ji Xiao Li” Chen Yu Bai pressed the body under him and gritted his teeth, “What exactly did I owe you in my past life?”

“I…don’t…know..but you don’t know too? Aren’t you a fortune teller?”

At this instant, even the thousand years ice jade bed under them can feel the chill emitted by this man.

“I am the Grand Tutor! Great Divination Master! Don’t call me a fortune teller!”

- Description from Novelupdates

“Look at you, you were this teeny-weeny when you were little.”Using both hands, Shao Zifeng gestures how small his pet beast used to be. He then raises his head and looks at the gigantic being in front of him.“Just how did you grow into this ferocious form?”

Li Che transmigrated into this world and lived a mundane life for nineteen years. Accepting his fate, he chose to marry, have children, and work hard to support his family.But in the instant his daughter was born… his fortunes changed. Through his daughter, his life became extraordinary.…When his daughter was safely born, he gained the Dao Fruit [Celestial Artisan] .When his daughter turned one, healthy and unharmed, he gained the Dao Fruit [Dragon-Elephant Vajra] .When his daughter turned two, free from illness, he gained the Dao Fruit [Purity of Heart] .When his daughter turned three, lively and clever, he gained the Dao Fruit [Chess Sage] .At ages four, five, six…Li Che realized that with every year his daughter grew, he could condense a Dao Fruit to strengthen himself.From then on, Li Che had a simple and humble wish: one Dao Fruit per year, quietly guarding his daughter to ensure her immortality.All he wanted was… to start from a warm home with his wife and daughter, calmly protecting her journey to eternal life.Silently, he would condense Dao Fruits—billions upon billions of them. Thus, his cultivation soared to the peak of divine refinement, standing invincible across all realms.

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.