The Rise of the White Lotus - Chapter 23 He has good eyes, chu~!

Xu Anran did not know that her husband Qin Xiaokun was a wolf in sheep's clothing until she died.

He deceived her feelings with affectionate illusions, conspired to seize her family property, harmed her family, and in the end, he ran her over in his car in order to be with his true love justifiably.

After she opened her eyes again, Xu Anran returned to the day she married Qin Xiaokun five years ago.

Those scumbags better not think about touching the things that belonged to her in this lifetime!

What she suffered in her previous life would be avenged one by one.

She walked up to Qin Xiaokun's rival Jiang Rongyan in front of everyone and asked him with a smile, “Mr. Jiang, would you like to marry me?”

Behind him were the unpleasant expressions of the Qin family.

He thanked her for the invitation. This would be the cuckolding version of the face-slap script specially customized for Qin Xiaokun.

-Xu Anran wanted to stay away from relationships in this life, but she did not expect that after the agreed marriage expired, the man refused to let her go now!

Jiang Rongyan, “You want to flee after you finished using me? Heh, you're dreaming.”

In the world of Aetheria, there is one name that is feared by all. Yet, he is known more for his title, the Demon General. Whether it’s Gods or Demons, no beings dare to oppose his authority. He ruled Aetheria with an iron hand. Cities are destroyed on his whim. Countries are razed at his displeasure.This is the tale of his rise to power.This is the tale of his rise to Godhood.This is the tale of the rise of the Demon General.

At 26, Portuguese footballer Tobi Oliveira ended his life, crushed by regret and failure. But fate gives him a second chance—sending him ten years back to when he was just 16, with a mysterious football system and all the memories of his past.Now, with raw talent, real hunger, and the unwavering support of his mother-agent and football-loving little sister, Tobi is determined to rewrite his story. From Sporting CP to Valencia’s first team, he must juggle brutal training, school, media pressure, and the emotional weight of his past life.But success doesn’t come easy. His stats drop in the pros. Not every match ends in victory. And greatness demands more than just skill—it demands heart.

Three rejections. Three shattered dreams. That was Layla’s reality, all because she was different—a half-shifter in a world obsessed with purity. Ostracized, shunned, and finally sold off like a pawn to the most feared ruler alive—the Lycan King. He was ruthless, a king with a graveyard of brides, each one a ghostly reminder of a fate worse than death.Layla loathed him. Hated the way his gaze cold and fathomless, held no warmth for her. Hated how his touch, both thrilling and terrifying, sent an uninvited chill down her spine.---“I hate you!” I screamed, hands clenched so tight my knuckles ached.He sighed, a smirk curling at the edge of his lips, his tone mocking as he closed his book with a deliberate snap. “Stressed, are we?” he asked, strolling toward me, each step reminding me exactly who held the power here.“Lucky for you,” he drawled, rolling up his sleeves as he stopped just inches away, “I know exactly 70 ways to ease those nerves.” His fingers brushed my cheek, a touch that seemed to burn into my skin. “The first… a hug.” His voice dropped to a rough whisper as he leaned in, breath hot against my ear. “And the rest... well, that's 69? what do you say about that?”I swallowed hard, my heart thudding wildly as he tilted his head, waiting for me to react, that insufferable smirk still in place.“What’s the matter, darling?” he murmured, a taunt lingering in his gaze.---A Dangerous ObsessionCan she resist the pull, or will she dance into the flames of her own destruction?A dark dive into obsession, raw need, and the razor’s edge between desire and devastation.---LYCAN KING CASSIANI will tear her apart piece by piece, feeding the wildfire that grips her with each shuddered breath. Like air to flame, I’ll claim every inch, drawing heat from her skin until it sinks into her bones.Her pulse will race under my hands, her breaths shallow, pleading. Her eyes may scream, but her lips will still murmur my name. That first taste of fear will only feed something deeper—a need that burns through her veins, molten and fierce.And just when she’s too far gone to turn back, I’ll twist the knife, giving her the pain she’s learned to crave.She’ll be the moth to my flame, helpless against the very thing that will consume her.