MTL - To My Dear Mr. Huo - Chapter 71 : You never called my husband

With his engagement at hand, the most terrifying and legendary person of the legal world, Fu Huai’an, returns with a son.

Before the engagement…

He asks, “Since you love Wen Moshen, why are you in my bed?”
She says, “Because I cannot watch idly as Wen Moshen’s woman enters an engagement with you.”

With a cigarette in Fu Huai’an’s mouth, he crosses his legs. Across the light cloud of smoke, he squints his eyes—watching as Lin Nuan’s slim arms wrap around his neck; he feels stirred.

So a person can love another so passionately.

“You call what you did a kiss?”
“…”
“What a pure lady!”

Fu Huai’an spews out a cloud of smoke and snuffs out the cigarette. With a mellow voice, he says, “Let me teach you what kissing is!”

But, what he teaches Lin Nuan doesn’t seem to be only a kiss…

- Description from Novelupdates

Gu Huai'an, a young scion of the No. 01 Courtyard Manor, had become the chief commander at Dragon Aviation Command Center at a very young age.He was known for his cold demeanor and seldom smiled or laughed.Not only did he come from a distinguished family, but he was also the unattainable gem of Beidu No. 01 Courtyard Mansion.Suddenly one day, he heard someone calling him “little brother.”When he followed the voice, a pretty girl with an indifferent face asked, “Excuse me, sir, do I know you?”Yet at the same time:【Wow, little brother is so handsome.】【There are mountains beyond mountains, buildings beyond buildings, but little brother is handsome and gentle.】【Little brother, hug!】Gu Huai'an: ……The little girl's mouth, deceptive as a ghost's.*********Song Yunuan transmigrated into a period novel and became a minor villainess who was soon eliminated – a role too small to be smaller.On her first day in the book, she stood in the Song family courtyard, trying hard to recall why the entire Song family would be wiped out in the story.In the end, she failed to notice the collective petrified expressions of the Song family members.Later…Her father became the richest man, her brother a top lawyer, her younger brother a scientist, her younger aunt a singer, and even her grandmother became a landlady.She herself turned into everyone's beloved darling.Song Yunuan: What happened to the hellish start I was promised?

Born as the fifth son of a Duke, Rex Grimes. Though he was the youngest, he was the toughest contender to the first son of the Grimes, the hope of the Grimes also titled as once in a millennium genius.Will he be able to fight his way out. Maybe not.Facing an unfortunate accident in which he lost all of his cultivation. All his hopes and dreams were lost.{The train has arrived at Valmere Valley}Deciding to go back to his childhood warmth. Rest was the best cure but it seems that there was still a way for him.[Gacha Wheel][Insufficient points]'How do I gain points'[Please Get wives and practice the art of love and creation of life][Only Ying and Yang will give birth the to creation of points]

“Coming live to you, from Cerou Street, this is MBP News, and we have an unfolding situation to report. Late last night, at approximately 3:00 AM, an explosive-like sound reverberated through this area, disrupting the sleep of residents and instilling fear in their hearts,” the news anchor, a striking figure, delivered the report with poise, standing before the camera amidst a bustling scene.

In the background, the blaring horns of ambulances and police vehicles disturbed the serenity of the beautiful morning light. Two individuals wearing protective suits, presumably forensic experts, held a stretcher carrying a charred body.

The news anchor, who had been reporting earlier, placed a hand on her ear, fitted with an earpiece, and looked visibly surprised. Her voice filled with urgency as she continued, “We have just received an update from our headquarters regarding the sole fatality in this unexpected incident. The victim of this tragic event is none other than Norman, the famous gigolo of Night palace.”

“My colleague, who was set to cover an event today at Nightplace, obtained this information firsthand from Countess Maria, who held a special place for Norman in her heart. Our focus this morning is on this breaking news,” the female news reporter continued amidst the chaotic scene, while Norman's charred body lay alone in the ambulance.

Meanwhile, in a different world, a young boy lay fast asleep with his head on the table. The sun, seemingly displeased with the boy's carefree slumber, cast its rays directly onto his face. Annoyed by the intrusion, the boy shifted his head in another direction, unwilling to be roused from his deep sleep.

*ZZZr Zzrz Zzrzzr* However, an additional source disturbed his sleep, filling the room with a buzzing sound. The boy furrowed his brows in annoyance, his eyes still closed. He searched his surroundings and discovered a glass-like slab. With closed eyes, he slid his finger across it and placed it near his ear.

“Hello...” he mumbled in his drowsy voice, which carried a hint of depth.

“Hey, Pissed-up Prat, where are you?” a voice laced with disdain emanated from the slab.

The boy, referred to as the “Pissed-up Prat” by the irritating female voice, recognized it as a voice he heard frequently but couldn't recall its owner. With his eyes still closed, he inquired, “Who is this?”

“What do you mean, 'who is this'? Wake up, come home, or eat shit for breakfast if you prefer!” the voice behind the transparent slab retorted before falling silent.

The boy, still not fully awakened, gazed at the half-opened glass slab with a mixture of confusion and surprise. As his eyes darted around the room, he became increasingly shocked.

As he recollected the fragmented memories from the night before he lost consciousness, his gaze fell upon the entrance of the shop. Once old and damp, it now bore a different appearance. While not transformed into a luxurious space, it had undergone improvements compared to its previously dilapidated state.

The shop took on a rectangular shape, with one longer side adorned with wooden shelves intricately patterned. Rows of empty glass jars lined these shelves. On the opposite side, there was another wooden shelf, also displaying empty jars. Towards the beginning of the counter, where the boy had been sleeping, there stood a peculiar machine.

Confusion etched across his face, he murmured to himself, “Whose shop is this?”

In response to his question, a mechanical voice resonated in his mind.

[The Omnistore belongs to you, host.]

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