Warrior’s Promise - Chapter 123: Crisis

“Hot Noodles request to add you as a friend.”An inexplicable friend request, a non-existent contact.Claiming to be a message from herself in the future, intimately knowledgeable about her past.Fang Xiaocao was utterly numb.Hot Noodles: Danger, do not go home tonight.“Is this some kind of joke?”Staring at the WeChat message, Fang Xiaocao rolled her eyes and opened the anti-theft door.Hot Noodles: At midnight, when the knocking starts, don't turn on the light if you don't want to die.In the early morning: 00:00:00Fang Xiaocao was woken by the knocking sound. She was just about to turn on the bedside lamp when she remembered that bizarre message.She pulled back her hand and stayed put until dawn, only to know her neighbor next door, a woman living alone just like her was murdered at midnight...Fang Xiaocao was suddenly covered in a cold sweat.Hot Noodles: To celebrate our narrow escape from death, go to the flea market before three in the afternoon, stall number 7, and buy the seventh inkstone on the left-hand side. The seller's bottom price is 80, but the inkstone is worth 8 million.After last night's ordeal, Fang Xiaocao inexplicably chose to believe.She successfully bought an inkstone for a hundred dollars, and later discover it was indeed a imperial inkstone from the Qing Qianlong era, worthing 8 million!Fang Xiaocao stood there, dumbfounded!Following the message's instructions, she bought a second-hand car.But little did she know, the guidance was linking her into a series of events that dragged out a murder case and a fortune worth two small goals.Who on earth sent her the messages?It's really her future self?Or it's some kind of bizarre game?

The prostitute of the Feng family was actually reduced to living in a haunted house.

At first, everyone thought that she would cry, make trouble, and hang herself, but she was quiet every day, without making noise, and set up a fortune-telling stall to earn living expenses.

A few months later, everyone in the Feng family invited her back.

She smiled and shook her head. Going back to the Feng family, there are no female ghosts to do housework.

Behind him, Lord Wei, who is the master of the city, aggressively embraced his fiancée in his arms, “My wife is timid, don’t scare her.”

All the ghosts who were caught, “Are you talking nonsense?”

Just when everyone was waiting for Master Wei to cancel his marriage with his nominal fiancée, they actually waited for the news of their engagement.

Outside the nickname, Master Wei married Miss Feng’s family.

Impossible, Mr. Wei is ascetic, mysterious and low-key, never letting women come within one meter of him.

Master Wei was full of smiles, “Nian Nian, where do you want to go to catch ghosts tonight?”

- Description from novelbuddy

What? He’s transmigrated into an apocalyptic novel?

What? He transmigrated into a white lotus?

What? The white lotus killed the main character shou (bottom, uke) and even proudly became a mistress?

Oh, luckily the white lotus in the apocalypse has a thick thigh to hold on to (someone to rely on).

What? This was actually an apocalyptic rebirth revenge story?

What? The thick thigh was actually a really big cannon fodder?

Therefore, this is the dramatic story of a man who transformed into a white lotus struggling to survive in an apocalyptic rebirth revenge novel, trying to avoid the reborn pig’s foot (the original main character), and trying his best to get away from the cannon fodder gong (top, seme).

- 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.”