The Child Emperor - Chapter 211: The Fourth Contender

“I hesitated before, I turned back to face my shred of hope, yet still no one cared.”“Later the thick fog arose, you said you loved me so much, but why is your love even fainter than the fog, so faint that I can’t even see it clearly.”

Good news: You’ve transmigrated as a born protagonist , your confidants have exceptional talents, boasting abilities like Heart Voice, Simulator, Rebirth... and many other top-tier skills. What you only need to do is to wait for one of them to grow up, then you will be invincible to ascend. Bad news: They’re all yandere !!! Under the gaze of yandere, Xu Yuan shivered in fear. It was not until he was about to be attacked with a firewood cleaver. “If that’s the case, then I’m dropping the act—I am none other than the Great Love Immortal Venerable!”

A piece of divorce paper sent Xia Xinghe into a state of destitution. However, a car accident later, she transformed into a professional hacker with more money than she could ever spend. All those that have belittled, bullied and laughed at me, please line up, I’ll show you what the meaning of face-slapping is! Wait, wait, wait. That guy over there, the ex-husband that I no longer have any relations with, don’t cut in line. What, you want to help me face-slap these people? “Not only that I will help you face-slap myself!” The wickedly handsome man with billions of dollar in estate raised his own palm to slap his own face without reservation!

- 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.”