MTL - My Star Teacher - Chapter 850 [Say good low-key? 】

Right after getting the first-class chef’s certificate and before that certificate had been in her hands long enough to warm up, she woke up. Not only did she age ten years, she also gained two children…

—

At this time, her new daughter, who had lost two of her front baby teeth and spoke with a lisp, pointed at the TV screen and called out, “Dad!”

On the screen, the Film Emperor Meng Yan was extremely handsome and charming. Towards the camera, his gaze was overflowing with gentle and tender feelings. He raised up the hand that was holding hands with captivatingly beautiful bride. She was wearing a diamond-beaded wedding dress. At the bottom of the TV screen, the headline news was displayed in large font – Meng Yan and the rising starlet’s wedding of the century.

T/N: The second part of the summary is misleading. This isn’t a novel where the transmigrated main character clings onto the film emperor’s thigh.

This is a world where humans, demons and mysterious beasts coexist.

Humans cultivate mysterious qi. Demons cultivate corporeal bodies. Mysterious beasts cultivate soul perception.

A legend says that in the middle of an endless rainforest, there are extremely powerful existences; they are called demon kings.

Some demon kings have a tyrannical corporeal body, some are experts in illusions.
Some demon kings are proficient in magic, some can even move mountains.
Some demon kings are able to sense things thousands of miles away.

These demon kings rarely appear in the human world. Even if they emerge in the human world, they would reincarnate in human form; assimilating with mankind while seeking to breakthrough realms…

- Description from Novelupdates

Welcome to a classic story about a young lady's ruthless revenge with the help of her loyal bodyguard. Packed with conflict, romance, and action as if you are watching a K-drama! Sprinkled with fluff, flirt, and smut to maximize your satisfaction ;)* * *After getting manipulated, treated like a slave by her family, and assaulted by her own brother, Sarah found out that the accident killing her mother in the past might have been orchestrated by someone from her family. Before figuring out the answer, however, she got killed and opened her eyes at her mother's funeral.“I'm sorry, Mother. I will never be able to live in peace before taking my revenge.”Returning as a trashy princess who slept around with her bodyguard instead of the goody-two-shoes daughter people expect her to be, Sarah set out with a match in her hand, determined to take over the kingdom and burn her billionaire family down.Could someone from the future that hadn't happened yet keep her from burning herself, or would she be consumed by the flame of retribution?#regression #billionaire #posessive #master #bodyguard #revenge #fakelovers #fakeittillyoumakeit #faceslapping #makjang #chaebol

It's simple. A vengeful wildfire of a woman. A tyrant who begs to be burned.When Aria crashes into Kael’s empire, hellbent on making him pay for taking her job away, she’s met not with defiance—but a dare. “You want revenge?” he taunts, voice dripping with dark invitation.“Then ruin me. Take your pound of flesh exactly where it hurts.” His proposition is a trap laced with sin: As expected he calls the shots in his bed, her contempt is his twisted aphrodisiac.“Hate me until your hands shake,” he growls. “But do it on top of me, where I can watch you savor every cut.”Their arrangement is a collision of dominance and delirium. Aria wields her fury like a blade, determined to break him. Kael? He thrives under her wrath, goading her darker, deeper, hungrier.But vengeance turns slippery when every command she hisses ignites his obedience, and every cold glare melts into bruising kisses. Soon, the bed becomes a battleground—her nails carving victory into his skin, his whispers a serpent’s promise: “Chain me with your rage, darling. I’ll still come back for more.”The rules are simple: No mercy. No surrender. But as their games spiral into something ravenous, who’s destroying whom? And when hatred burns this hot, what’s left when the ashes cool?