Life, Once Again! - After Story 131

In a game-like world where dungeons, monsters, and players appear.

A mental patient, or a born policeman?

A peerless genius, or a master of crime?

There are cops who are least like cops, and there are criminals who are least like criminals.

Neither good nor evil is absolute.

It is a grey world we live in.

- Description from Novelupdates

Yang Qing sighed as he gazed upon the black building that stood tall piercing the skies above with an inviolable aura around it.

“The Order sure is black-hearted,” he angrily thought as he made his way into the building begrudgingly.

The building could be considered his home away from home and a source of endless grief for him due to its unforgiving working hours.

The building housed the courtrooms of the Cultivation Order Society, an organization founded to maintain a semblance of order in the ruthless cultivation world of the southern continent who if left to their own devices would sink the whole continent to the ground.

Due to how impetuous cultivators were, the cases never stop.

“Yi Jie, what do we have today?”

“Two cultivators at the palace realm fought over a treasure and destroyed half of the territory of the blue deer kingdom in their fight,

A rogue cultivator is suing the owner of the falling meteor blacksmith shop for selling him a faulty saber that keeps attracting lightning tribulations.

A cultivator suffering from pill poisoning is blaming it on the white hilltop restaurant as he suspects they are feeding their spirit beasts pills to make them bigger and fatter.

And the last case is 500 families are suing a cultivator by the name of Ren Fu for being negligent as a husband and a father whilst also pilfering their resources dry as he moves from place to place.,”

Awkward silence ensues...........

Join me as we follow Yang Qing in his role as a judge in the Cultivation Order Society with cases and troubles that never seem to end.

……………………………………………………………

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[COMPLETE] Can a royal Romeo and Juliet find their happy ending?

Ayleth, Princess of Zenithra, is secretly trained in hand-to-hand combat, and collects swear words she doesn't know how to use. During the Festival of Peace, in which every royal son on the continent will be at the castle for a month, she is instructed by her parents to find a husband. Yet, Ayleth has never even been kissed—until the very first ball, when she meets the man in the Lion mask.

Etan is a seasoned warrior, and the Prince of Summitras. He attends the Festival hoping to find a powerful wife who will help him conquer the dark sorcery of their bloodsworn enemies, the Kingdom of Zenithra. But at the very first ball, he discovers the masked woman who captures his heart is the Heir to the evil empire.

Ayleth and Etan face an impossible battle. Will their love survive? Or will their parents' dark dealings keep them apart forever?

[Mature content. No sexual violence.]

******

“You…” She stepped back. Then back again, her mouth dropped open. “You… You cannot be…”

“I am,” Etan said, and his hair raked back as he pushed his mask off his handsome face. So handsome her heart raced.

His hair was ebony black, his skin a warm brown that threatened to fade in in the winter months. He stared at her with glittering green eyes, over high cheekbones and a noble nose, his jaw tight and shadowed this late in the day. His chin was high over the pillar of his neck that she’d just touched with its hard lines and steel strength, so different to her own. And his chest... She gasped and covered her eyes. She’d humiliated herself revealing her stupid, childish curiosity.

“No, Ayleth. This changes nothing.”

“How can you say that? It changes everything!” She was horrified to realize she was crying.

“Ayleth, please.” His voice cracked on the plea and she stared at him, shoving her mask up and off, despite how it would pull her hair out of the beautiful twist the maid had managed for her.

His eyes locked on hers and she couldn’t think. She couldn’t breathe.

She had met her One. And he was the son of her bloodsworn enemy.

She stared at him as he stepped forward again, offering both hands, palm up. “Touch me,” he whispered. “Hold my hands. This is real, Ayleth. I don’t know how it happened, but this is real. Please don’t deny it.”

She couldn’t resist. She raised a trembling hand to his cheek, letting her palm catch on the scruff of his jaw. He blew out a breath and put his hand over hers, and that jolt that happened whenever they touched shivered through her again.

“Please, Ayleth.”

“I cannot deny it,” she whispered.