Quick Transmigration: Goddess Of My Imagination - Chapter 768: Talk to Nature (1)

By the age of thirty, Chen Feng, who had contracted a terminal illness, saw his luck turn after getting divorced. Winning the lottery, encountering a wave of romantic interests, and ultimately even his illness was cured... How could all this happen? The extremely lucky Chen Feng felt somewhat overwhelmed.

Follow Chen Ming as he accepts disciples, establishes a sect, and fights his way in a world that deems him a cannon fodder.
He goes against any common sense using his wits and novel knowhow to finish missions and arm himself against his cruel fate.

- Description from Novelupdates

***Completed***“I'll marry you if you promise to kiss me every day.”On the harrowing day she lost her family, out of all the men she knew, Marcella didn't expect those words from “Sweet Baby” Tony. She thought he was not interested in her.She had to ask him for the marriage as she wanted to fulfil her sister's last wishes.She got married the day she suffered a horrifying loss.Don DeAngelo's youngest daughter became the wife of Antony Crawford.She didn't wait to think why he wanted to marry her when every men she knew wanted her for who her father was. She trusted him that much.But in a day, she learned that Tony was not so different from other men.What choice can she make?She can throw away the marriage and lose custody of her nephew, or...She chose to be married to him. Their marriage can be a deal. She needed him, he needed her. It's all fine.Except...What does Tony feel? Is their marriage all but a business transaction for him? What is the secret he is hiding? Why can't he reveal it to her?-----*Excerpt*“We are each our own devil, and we make this world our hell,” she said looking into his eyes. The alluring mystique behind those blue eyes made her heart skip a beat.How can she hate and love someone this much? She must be missing a part of her brain.In the silence of the dining room, the candle flickered. The curve of his lips widened and in the romantic ambiance, the thin lines around his eyes gave her a thrill.“Quoting Oscar Wilde?” he chuckled comfortably, leaning forward.“Isn't that true in our case?” she asked.She observed him, trying to digest every single expression on his face.He went silent. His lips pressed to a line. His pensive eyes never left hers except for the few seconds when he placed down his cutleries. She still couldn't guess what goes on in that smart brain of his.It is this, she thought. I am a decently adventurous person. He's an adventure. Maybe that's his allure!“Then, Birdie,” he stood up and walked to her.Marcella's back got stiff as she tried to figure out what he was going to do.Also, is that a pet name? Birdie? It's nice. But that came out of nowhere...She followed him with his eyes. He kneeled beside her and held her hand. Only when she felt the warmth of his big hand on hers did she realize that she had been holding her breath for a while.This man is going to be the end of her. It sucks when he does not feel even half of what she feels.“Let's be angels,” he kissed her hand. With a smooth smile that reached his eyes, he looked at her. “Let's be each other's angels, and let's make this world our heaven.”“You are...”Unable to find any words to say to him, she buried her face in her hand. Her chest was heaving as if she ran a marathon.This man surely is going to be the end of her.“What?” he chuckled while teasing her to show her face. “What am I?”“You're a brute, Mr. Crawford. That's what you are,” she said trying to hold her stoic expression to relay her “disapproval” of his methods. But in front of his goofy smile, she lost.She lost, and she didn't feel defeated.She felt delighted in his presence.“Mark my words, Birdie. I am taking you to the White House,” he said.Marcella opened her mouth to speak but no words came out. The determination shining in his eyes...He's not talking about a visit to the White House, is he?No way! No f*cking way!Her eyes widened. But he was smiling sweetly as always. He stood up and leaned to her ear.“Let's have today's kiss on the bed,” he said.Before she could form a resistance, he picked her up and walked up the stairs.Again, Marcell pondered the one question she's been asking a lot lately.Whom did I marry?

BLURB> He was reborn by mistake. Raised with purpose. Loved by a god. Worshipped by monsters. And the galaxy doesn’t stand a fucking chance.Irvine’s soul took one wrong turn through the wheel of karma and woke up in a body grown by an intergalactic hivemind goddess with boundary issues and galaxy-sized ambition. Now he’s the golden child of a psychic swarm that feeds on control and burns whole worlds for affection.With Crystal at the helm, warriors like Kimchi, relic-weapons like Kiya, and a council of psionic horrors eager to call him king, Irvine must choose what kind of god he wants to be.Because when a hivemind learns to love......it doesn’t know when to stop.The universe will kneel—or get devoured trying.SYNOPSISIrvine didn’t ask to be reincarnated, but the cosmos had other plans. And it didn’t hand him a cheat code or a clean slate—just one random boon, selected by an uncaring divine roulette wheel.Good karma? Bad karma? Balanced as all fuck.Now he's reborn in the body of a psionically tuned alien hybrid, raised from psychic infancy by Crystal, the hivemind queen of a race so advanced they’ve abandoned individuality for shared omniscience. All except her baby boy.Irvine is the singularity inside the swarm, the first soul allowed to think, dream, and desire independently. Trained by warriors like Kimchi, advised by bio-symbiotes like Kiya, loved ferociously by hive sisters like Diane, and shadowed by powers ancient and unnamed, Irvine is both weapon and wielder, saint and sacrifice.But empires don’t run on hugs and handjobs. As Crystal expands her dominion—across star systems and sentient nebulae—Irvine must lead the charge through blood, fire, and psionic flame.His soul is still human. His body? Engineered for extinction. His heart? Not entirely his anymore.