MTL - Evil Emperor’s Wild Consort - Chapter 1781 The blood of the foreigners and the children (20)

Send a mayfly to the world, a drop in the vast ocean!

Ye Chen woke up and found that he had traveled to the Qing Dynasty. Looking at the father lying on the bed, and the mother doing laundry for the neighbor

I thought it was an ancient farming text.

But with the awakening of the system! Only to find that everything is not so simple.

In Xiling in the south, there are Tufuzi running around, there is a restaurant with the same name in the capital, and the Zhang family in the northeast…

In the ancient building

Zhang Family: What the hell are you, you didn’t exist in history!

Ye Chen: I exist to change history.

In the Tomb of King Lu

Wu Xie: Brother’s tattoo is so handsome! He must have some special story..

Fatty Wang on the other side: No! I think Ye Chen’s is more handsome, okay?

Wu Xie turned her head to look: Damn!

Until the combination of various abilities of Shan Hai Jing, he also detached and became an ancient god,

To understand the true meaning of this world.

- Description from novelbuddy

Living on the streets of Orchard's Reach, Sen never dreamed about becoming a cultivator. He barely even knew what cultivation was, let alone wanted to do it. When fate intervenes, though, he finds himself the disciple of a cultivator. Like all who find themselves on the path to defying the heavens, Sen will have to decide what kind of person he wants to be and what kind of mark he wants to leave on the world.

At level 2, most people unlocked their first talent; those who didn’t were considered fortunate, as they had the potential to unlock rarer talents requiring higher levels. The world’s most rare and powerful talents were revealed at level 5. But what if someone didn’t obtain a talent? Luck quickly turned to misfortune as they were labeled talentless, with no hope of gaining a talent. Sol was one such person who was unable to unlock his talent, but he refused to give up. He persistently fought and trained every day, slowly increasing his level despite the disadvantage in skills. He held onto the hope that, one day, he would be bestowed with a talent like everyone else. As years passed, his determination began to wane until one fateful day. You have leveled up! +5 Free stats. Talent Unlocked - [Siphoner]! This event marked the beginning of his story.

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.