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... iously riled up, he left for Croix with Uslin, Elliot, Ruth, and three other squires.

Anger and anxiety raged within him as he rode fast on his horse over the frozen lands. Riftan spurred and rode relentlessly until all the horses were exhausted and reached a creek for them to take a rest.

“Speaking of which… How did the Duke of Croix find the stepfather of Sir Calypse?”

Elliot asked in a careful tone as he lowered the saddle from the back of his hors ...

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After Yan Yu’s family read through the book, they discovered that the protagonist of this ancient novel was the original uncle.

They took their uncle to drink blood, were separated early, and were pulled out for a walk at the end of the full text to show how miserable their lives are.

At this time, the plot is going to the point where the cousin is ruined by others, and the uncle comes to the door to reason and is injured. If the wheat in the field is not harvested, it will be desolate. Twelve taels of gambling debt…

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You’d think seeing the future would give me a head start on surviving the apocalypse. I had it all planned—until everything I knew shattered when my husband sacrificed himself to save me and our son. Now it’s just me, my three-year-old son Leo, and my cursed gift of foresight that only seems to kick in when it’s nearly too late.I’m doing my best to keep us safe, to find food, to make some kind of plan—“Mommy?”I glance down, trying to ignore the tug on my pant leg as I focus on our supplies. “Not now, Leo. Mommy’s thinking.”“Mommy!”I sigh and finally look down. My three-year-old is standing there, clutching… I blink. “Leo, where did you get a knife?”He shrugs, grinning like it’s the most natural thing in the world.My heart stutters. “No, really. Where did you find that?”I try not to laugh. I mean, he’s three. Maybe he just—found it somewhere? But the next day, it’s a water bottle. Then, a tiny flashlight, somehow with batteries still inside.I don’t even know what else; he’s pulling things out one by one with the pleased grin of a kid who’s just figured out his favorite game.Well, we may just survive this mess after all.Now, if only the universe could have spared me from him. I don’t even know his name, but I know his type: tall, broad, and annoyingly handsome, with an air of calm control that’s out of place in this chaos. Ex-military, if I had to guess, with a voice that’s just as infuriating as his smirk. The man has a habit of showing up at the worst—or best—possible times, with a gun at the ready and secrets buried as deep as those bright green eyes.I mean, he’s probably useful, but I’m trying to keep my eyes on the prize here: survival.For Leo and me.Because, foresight or no foresight, nothing is guaranteed in this new world—except the fact that people like him are trouble.

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