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... tried to console herself. Since Gu Tingchen was cold now, it didn't matter to her, as they had been together for a long time, she would naturally think of a way to win Gu Tingchen's favor and snatch him away from his grasp.

Mu Lee smiled and did not speak, as though she did not care.

Then, the meal started. At the table, Xu Yan and her daughter had always been passionately serving food to Gu Tingchen. Because she spoke good words for Ning Tianjiao, they did not deliberately negl ...

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I Won't Go Back to My Family Who Abandoned MeChapter 109 [END]
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Everywhere Leticia went, she was compared to her siblings.

Sadly, it was all too common.

She was not as pretty as her second sister Diana,

nor as smart as her third brother Emil,

nor as good with a sword as her fourth brother Xavier,

nor as talented with magic as her youngest sister Irene. However, she was never jealous or envious of her siblings.

In fact, she was proud of them. And yet, she never knew that her family was ashamed of her. Until the moment her family abandoned her.

The Mysterious Art MuseumChapter 165: The Mysterious Art Museum
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Perhaps the paintings in a museum are subjected to more nonsense than you would hear anywhere else in the world.The language that comes out of an artist’s life is the painting itself. It contains the most ordinary lives that know failure, desire, recoiling in fear, and compromise.Learning is about understanding that language. We miss much of what the paintings speak because there is no way to ask the long-dead painters about the philosophy of their lives.In an alleyway in the residential area of Jongno, there’s a peculiar art gallery. This place enables us to transcend such limitations. By sheer coincidence, I ended up visiting that place and began living an entirely different life.

MTL - Dressed As a GrassChapter 85 Extra
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Also known as: It turns out that I am a double cultivation grass *#*

Xizhou has become a grass in the cultivation world.
The grass is an ordinary dreaming grass. What is unusual is that the owner of this medicine field is a fairy-like and jade-colored senior sister.

Xizhou originally thought that the grass was stable, but who would have expected the elder sister to be plotted, her cultivation base would be destroyed, and her life would not be long.
At the moment of life and death, Xi Zhou accidentally fell into her dream…

After waking up from the dream, Senior Sister’s cultivation has recovered.
Disciples: Can this be restored? How did you do it?
Sister:–
(Can she say that being with a woman in a dream is indescribable)

From now on…
The elder sister was seriously injured, and Xizhou fell into a dream.
The elder sister’s inner alchemy is broken, and Xizhou falls into a dream
Senior Sister is pregnant, Xi Zhou… dumbfounded *#*

small theater
Senior Sister: Can you change the way you treat?
Xizhou: I don’t want to either, do you think I’m willing to do it?
Senior Sister: Shameless!
Xizhou: “…”

1. Have a child, first in harmony and then in love.
2. It is not a large fantasy, and there are many private settings.
3. It is purely fictitious, and the writing is white.
——

Content Labels: Soul Transformation Xianxia Cultivation Sweet Text

Search keywords: protagonists: Xi Zhou, Zhai Wangyou ┃ supporting roles: countless ┃ others: sweet text

- Description from novelbuddy

THE DEATH KNELLChapter 67: War of God’s and Shadows
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war, blood, and betrayal carved him into something else. A legend. A killer. A mercenary whose name struck fear into both criminals and so-called heroes alike.But now, the world had changed. Lines blurred between right and wrong, between justice and vengeance. Should he step into the light, wear the mask of a hero, and fight for a cause greater than himself? Or should he embrace the darkness that had always been his home, a place where morality was just another illusion?“Don’t box me in with your shallow ideas of good and evil,” he muttered, his voice calm but edged with danger. “I do what I want, when I want.”The air was thick with tension as he moved like a shadow through the dimly lit room. The writer had no time to react—one moment, he was scribbling nonsense about legends and myths; the next, a cold barrel pressed against the back of his head.The figure smirked beneath his mask, eyes gleaming with something between amusement and menace.“You wanna write fiction?” he whispered. “Then let me show you how real legends are made.”A single gunshot shattered the silence.As the writer’s body slumped over the desk, the man holstered his weapon, stepping into the faint glow of a flickering neon light.“It’s that simple,” he said, his voice unwavering. “I’m Deathstroke.”