The Elf Journey In The Western Fantasy World - Chapter 97: No Love from the Merfolk

The day Louis discovered his girlfriend's betrayal, he died from a gunshot wound to the head. Fortunately, fate smiled on him and allowed him to be reincarnated in a magical world as the youngest son of an SSS-class family.That same day, he awakened his Class—an event that should have marked the beginning of his rise.Instead, it marked his downfall.[Ding! You have awakened an SSS-Rank Class.][Class: God of Money][Rank: SSS]A god? Yes, that's beautiful. But a god of money? In the eyes of his proud family, that title was a joke—an insult. The weakest, most useless Class imaginable.So, they banished him, stripped him of the family name, and cast him aside without a second thought.But they were unaware of his skill, abilities, and the potential that money could bring.He smiled as he saw himself banished and looked at the system.“If you fire me, it's okay. I'll keep creating missions even if I end up in a garbage dump, and I'll come back for your heads someday.”Two system messages flashed before him.[Your actions generate money, and money makes you stronger.][You have the ability to create missions.]Under the influence of his newly acquired Class, he will delve into all the magical paths this world offers, become embroiled in political intrigue, and conquer kingdoms on his own.“Money? I'm the God. Women?” That's fine—I have plenty.

Ye Chu is a miserable supporting character from a novel (she transmigrated).

She’s the most famous socialite in Shanghai, but her existence was to emphasize the magnificence of the white lotus female lead.

In the previous life, Ye Chu died in an accident. After rebirth (still in the novel), she didn’t only want to get revenge, but also change her fate, allowing every side character to have the opportunity to shine. Ye Chu and Lu Huai are a fake couple in their previous lives but reunited in this life.

They probed each other at every turn and slowly got closer to each other. They two fell for each other and confronted their enemies together.

- Description from Novelupdates

[Warning: Mature Content]

“Master, are we going to keep what happened last night a secret between us?”

“For how loud you moaned and cried, Qing-er, I think the whole world has already learned all about it, and your concern is irrelevant.”

Yun Qing-er, the only disciple of the legendary immortal swordmaster Bai Ye, has been hiding her feelings for her master for years. Unaccepted by norms and morals, it is the darkest secret that she swears to bury deep within her heart.

But life has other plans. Bai Ye's desire for her burns hot beneath his solemn appearance. He will teach her not only the art of the sword, but also the pleasures of life that she never knew existed before.

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Smut starts at Chapter 17, with a teaser in Chapter 11. A bit softcore at first but will get wilder quickly as the story moves on :)

Note that this is NOT a typical cultivation romance. Immortals and spiritual power and whatnot are all plot devices… You'll see what I mean in just a few chapters!

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[Sneak Peek]

He pinned me against the poplar tree at the center of the garden. A breeze rustled past, stirring the sunlight sparkling through the autumn foliage above us, and a sprinkle of gold fell over his shoulders. “Say you want me,” he whispered.

“Bai Ye—” I breathed, but the rest of my words were replaced by moans the moment he traced his kisses along my neck and took my earlobe into his mouth.

Familiar tingles roared through me as he nibbled and suckled gently. His hand slid up my chest, and he played with my sensations with his lips and tongue and fingers until my arms trembled around him. All other thoughts vanished from my mind. The only thing I knew was the irresistible feeling of him on me, so overwhelming that my knees started growing weak. I would've fallen if he wasn't pinning me hard against the tree.

“Bai Ye …” I moaned again, clawing at his clothes. “Of course I want you … Right here, right now.”

He let out a soft puff of laughter, and his hand grazed down, gripping the folds of my dress. With a rip of fabric, he tore them away.

The year 1847