MTL - The Big Brother’s Little Ancestor is So Sweet - Chapter 43 The world's first cutest at the same table (43)

“At thirty, a rare age in the past, and when the King of Hell doesn’t summon you, you go of your own accord.”After his divorce, Lu Liang suddenly felt as though the dirt was already up to his neck, especially when he could hear the sound of a running memorial lantern.Until he discovered that it was a message from the future, and that’s when his life took a dramatic turn.…Living in this world, we are all mere mortals.Being a mortal isn’t so bad—greedy, lustful, cunning, selfish…

In the third year of the Republic of China, Yao Zhi was 14 years old and the jewel of the governor’s office.

At that time, the young man next to the marshal’s mansion was still physically disabled and had his feet deep in the mud. Yao Zhi stretched out her hand and tried to help him, but the boy, who looked fierce, shut his eyes and was heartless. Yao Zhi has been the white moonlight of all young men in Beijing since childhood. Her crescent eyes were curved, and her beauty was incomparable.

Shen Xu regarded her as a god in his heart and never dared to put her in the bottom of his heart.

He looked up at the gods on a bright moonlit night, never thinking that one day she would take the initiative and rush into his chest. Yao Zhi, who became the pinnacle of his two lives, grabbed his clothes and said quietly.

“Shen Xu, if you ignore me again, I’ll kiss someone else.” Shen Xu couldn’t suppress his youthful emotions. He held the god’s waist tightly. He had no choice but to beg her repeatedly. “Zhizhi… “

“Don’t leave me,” she said, knowing that he was young and humble and that he had feelings as deep as the sea for her.

She wouldn’t leave. She would be the apex of the young man’s heart and stay together with him.

- Description from Novelupdates

In every being, a soul, a spirit, or a core, exists that tethers the consciousness into the solid plain. Witness as how a little spark from who was once a blazing flame, regained what once was lost.“I died and..” grins “...that started my life”What happens when an assassin transmigrated to a cultivation world?They rise through a mountain of corpse to reach the skies.But....What of an assassin whose enemy turns out to be themselves?A world where magic and cultivation co-exist?People say “Keep moving forward”.What if the way forward, is to go back to where she begun?

They say opposite attracts, that's a lie. Opposites kill each other!When a hot blood meets another hot blood, things are bound to get burnt.That is exactly what happens when the pompous and prideful elven princess, Neriah of the Avelah Kingdom is forced to marry the brash dragon Prince, Barak of the Trago Kingdom.Neriah's goal is to someday break away from her marriage and run away with the love of her life, Lyle of the Niles. While Barak will do everything to keep her as a wife.Neriah is certain she's in love with another, but she's also certain that no one can ignite the kind of passion her husband brings. Her husband who she hates more than anything.Can the flames of passion be drawn from hate? Can that same passion burn down the walls of lies, betrayal, and hurt? Can its ashes transcend into love?Excerpt“I am a rose, a beautiful flower, delicate and precious! But you my dear sir are nothing but the thorny stem! Prickly, dangerous and very harmful!” ranted Neriah while poking his chest with her index finger.“Well you seem to forget one important detail, my love.” He calmly grabbed her poking hand.“And what would that be, my fine sir?”“That the thorny stem and the rose grow together. The delicate rose and the prickly thorn, they belong together my dear.”“You—”“And no amount of ranting and raging will change that. You think I want to keep a witch like you? You are a pain in the neck. If I am a thorn then you are a piece of fish bone stuck inside my neck. I cannot swallow and I can not spit it out! I just have to bear it!”“You insolent bastard! Do you mean to say I am a burden!”“Well you are no precious prize, are you?”And that was it, she threw herself at him with her claws ready to mar his face, but he was quicker and he caught both her hands with one of his own and pressed her heaving chest upon his. Golden eyes stared deep into hers. They were as green as the fresh leaves on an orange tree.His fingers caressed her face, “You might not be a precious prize, but by the heavens, you are mine.” And his lips fell on hers, and once again, another argument was drowned.