MTL - Ranger King of Azeroth - Chapter 170 Lord Isarios

Xu Yiren, who has 300,000 fans, scolded Song Tianmei, a new traffic flower with more than 5 million fans, on Weibo: “Who in China doesn’t know that Gu Yu is your backstage!” People are sitting at home, and the pot is coming from the sky.

Gu Yu: “Excuse me?”

Three months later, Gu Yu put his hand on Xu Yiren’s side and said softly, “I have never been the backstage of anyone in my life, but from today onwards, I will be your backstage.”

- Description from Novelupdates

In a fantasy world where martial artists can split mountains and creeks with a wave of their hand and break rivers with a kick, there exists a little restaurant like this.

The restaurant isn’t large, but it is a place where countless apex existences will rush into.

There, you can taste egg-fried rice made from phoenix eggs and dragon blood rice.

There, you can drink strong wine brewed from vermillion fruit and water from the fountain of life.

There, you can taste the barbecued meat of a ninth grade supreme beast sprinkled with black pepper.

What? You want to abduct the chef? That’s not going to happen, because there’s a divine beast of unfathomable level, the Hellhound, lying at the entrance.

Oh, that chef also has a robotic assistant that killed a ninth grade supreme being with a single hand and a group of crazy women whose stomachs were conquered.

- Description from Novelupdates

What happens when, in the midst of struggling to keep up with life, you suddenly discover that you were a princess in a past life? Now, you're just a waitress with a drunken mother and a pile of bills to pay. But deep down, you know one thing: you’ll find the stupid jerk responsible for ending your royal life, no matter what it takes.Alexia POV:Then there are the spoiled, narcissistic rich jerks who think their daddy's car gives them a free pass to treat women like objects. Not today, Satan. These guys are like walking perfume ads with egos bigger than their bank accounts. I swear, they should just marry themselves—they're clearly their own type.When one of those jerks lands at my table, I can smell the entitlement from a mile away. I don't even wait for the inevitable sleazy pickup line or the “accidental” brush of their hand against mine. Nope. I pawn them off on one of the other waiters faster than you can say “unpaid rent.”

After the hard struggle of a post-80s Shen Feiyang, he met with a tragic car accident in his fifties. When he again opened his eyes, he did not see the white walls of a hospital, nor had he arrived at the netherworld. Instead, he had transmigrated into the body of the post-50s young girl, Shen Yunfang.He had transmigrated into an era where people could not get enough to eat or sufficient clothes to wear.Humph, such hardships could not defeat a wise woman who had battled through society for half her life. Watch as she, with a chicken in her left hand and a duck in her right, carries a chubby baby on her back and sings triumphantly along the way.