MTL - Picking Up a General to Plow the Fields - Chapter 10 Waiting for my mother to ask you for it.

[ Caution: High Heat Advisory ]“Harper, stop undressing me with your eyes. The plot isn’t going that way… YET.”Harper McKenzie, a newbie web novel author, has a problem — she struggles with romance scenes. As someone with almost nonexistent real-life experience in the matter, she can’t get the intimate chemistry right, and those chapters always come out dry and cringy.Fortunately for her, Harper finds a freelance editor willing to workshop her writing. But the surprise? That editor turns out to be her childhood friend and the very first crush of her life.What happens now when he offers her personal lessons on how to write the hottest romance … and love scenes?--------------Note: this is a fun, cozy, sweet story with a low-drama plot. No love triangles, no misunderstandings, no memory loss / car accidents / terminal illnesses / etc.. Mature content abounds, starting out soft but heats up quickly. You’ve been warned!--------------Sneak Peek:He slid her bra over her shoulders and, with impossibly quick and skilled work, tied the lacy garment around her wrists. “Spread your legs wider,” he ordered.Harper’s already faltering heartbeat faltered some more. The command in his tone was foreign, but it crashed over her like a heat wave, and even though she could barely begin to picture how salacious she must look, with her hands bound and thighs spread wide like an offering to be ravished, she could feel the scorching need coiling hotter and hotter in her core. Her body obeyed eagerly on its own accord, bringing herself fully open just like she was told.Eli grinned. Moving between her legs, he trailed hot kisses along her inner thigh, leaving sizzling little fires crackling in its wake. “Good girl. Now, what should your character say next?” A finger glided over her wet and wanting flesh in a slippery stroke, making her heart slam to a hard stop as a moan tore free. “Write the next line for me, what should I say before I unravel you with my tongue and make you scream my name?”

Boxing is power!Making a fist means holding power!A powerful punch is power!Nott Rod, who traveled through the Great Pirate Era, deeply agrees with this.Facing the endless monsters on this sea, only his fists can bring him a sense of security.Fortunately, he has two golden fingers after traveling through time:1. [Knights do not die with bare hands]2. [What doesn’t kill me will make me stronger]With two golden fingers in hand, he decided to achieve the greatest power with the biggest fist!Fists rule the world!Power rules the world!

My name was Yuan Junyao, a name my grandmother gave me, meaning “beautiful jade”, although I was not beautiful at all. Actually I was ugly.

I was told that I grew tumours on my face since I wasn’t even 3 months old. My parents had me examined in hospital and the doctor said it was a fibroma and it was benign. It couldn’t kill me but I couldn’t get rid of it because if I did, it may develop to be fatal. My father divorced my mother for this, and not long after, my mother died.

To make a living, I had to do three jobs.

One day I messed with the wrong people and they had my younger brother have a car accident and become a vegetable, and I also lost all my jobs because of it.

I tried to find a new job and happened to know about live streaming. I clicked on it and a man was live streaming in an old ghost-haunted house. The ambience was terrifying.

I followed him online and he didn’t see a real ghost even by the end of the stream. But the ambience was so real it spooked the audience. So he had many watchers who sent him lots of gifts while they watched. I was a little inspired by the idea. Nobody wanted to see the face of the host of a ghost live streaming, which suited me very well…

- Description from Novelupdates

[Unique Trait – Those you meet will remember you. No matter what happens, they will remember you forever.] In a world on the brink of ruin, people summoned to save it are categorized as heroes and extraterrestrial workers, abbreviated as “foreign workers.”For some reason, I became a foreign worker who is loved by transcendents that view humans as mere insects.