MTL - I Thought I Got the Redemption Script - v2 Chapter 92

Yan Ting: Life is no fun. What is the difference between life and death?

Li Zhao: Life is very happy.

The world in Yan Ting’s heart was very grey until he met Li Zhao. He thought this must be the liveliest person in the world. Otherwise, how could Li Zhao be so lively in his heart every day?

Very happy x Unhappy.

Warm text with entertainment circle elements.

- Description from Novelupdates

Jane was a horror lover. But, despite her love towards horror movie, she had not had any encounter with the astral beings herself.

However, when she moved to her new dormitory, she made herself a new friend.

A ghost, to be exact.

And a handsome one, too.

But, there was something suspicious with this ghost. He was too...human.

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“As the Princess of our clan, you deserve to command the Seventh Advisor and The White Army. May you bring peace upon those who are visible and invisible.”

“...” A princess? Don’t joke with me!

“Just accept it. It’s not bad, though.” A certain someone nudged my elbow as he grinned teasingly.

“You will be the only princess who has two prince consorts.” The older one spoke calmly. “My dear princess, will you build your own harem now?” His eyes flashed with dangerous glint.

Harem?! Screw you! I suddenly felt that these two men were only here to cause me troubles......

An Yin, a delicate beauty caught in a risky charade, pretends to date playboy Bo Cheng to escape her troubles—until she meets his brother, ​Bo Shaojin: the ruthless, untouchable CEO whose icy dominance rules both boardrooms and high society.Their first encounter crackles with sizzling tension. Shaojin’s piercing gaze lingers on An Yin, his brother’s “girlfriend,” as she trembles under his scrutiny. But when their paths collide again—her, half-dressed and panic-stricken in his bathroom; him, a storm of restraint and hunger—the line between duty and desire shatters.As An Yin’s fake relationship unravels, Shaojin’s ironclad control dissolves. Drunk on obsession, he corners her in a midnight confession, his hardened facade crumbling as he vows, “I won’t touch you…” But his hands whisper promises his words deny.