MTL - Lord Seventh - Chapter 29 Fake phoenix

Residing within the dense forest in Nore are the beautiful elves of Elune Forest. After the young elves began to be hunted by the humans to become slaves, the Queen of Elune decided that young elves could not leave the forest until after their adult ceremony at fifty years old. When Hai’an’s ceremony finally arrived, he was excited to be able to finally travel away from his home and see everything the world had to offer. However, he got more than he bargained for.

What was supposed to be a simple ceremony turned into Hai’an transmigating to the body of… a plant?!

Stuck as a small sapling called Shaking Grass, Hai’an was bought and given as a birthday gift to a retired Starfleet Marshal named Auguste.

After retiring due to political conflict, Auguste spends his time trying to find more of his missing race, the ancient dragons. Unexpectedly receiving Hai’an, Auguste believes him to be nothing more than a rare, exotic plant. To his surprise, he finds that this little plant is intelligent and learns more and more every day.

How will this stoic, unfeeling dragon fall in love with the little transmigrated elf who lost his body?

- Description from novelupdates

In a world where strength reigns supreme and only the strong are revered, conflict and injuries are commonplace.

That night, she shed off the image of a young maiden’s immaturity, forming a ripple in the deepest parts of the Cold Palace…

That day, she kneeled before him begging for mercy. She didn’t want anything. She only wanted to leave the palace and become an ordinary girl….

A bunch of elegant and good looking heavenly princes. A lowly palace maid with a mind as calm as still water.

If they were to meet, would it be an encounter like dewdrops and the autumn wind or would it be a lament of a country…

- Description from Novelupdates

It was understood that this was a capitalist country, where the possession of the greatest amount of capital determined to whom the nation effectively belonged.The smile that had been resting on William Sheffield’s face was abruptly erased as his expression turned cold. In a tone laced with determination, it was demanded by him that the police be contacted immediately so that they could crush those who stood in their way. The reasoning behind his words seemed clear: if such actions had been taken before by someone like Rockefeller, then why should it not also be possible for Sheffield?A sense of irony hung in the air as the sentiment was expressed—this was America, where each day seemed to unfold as though it were part of an ongoing shootout, with battles fought not just with guns but with power, influence, and wealth.