Transmigrating To Ancient Times With A Kitchen - Chapter 434 - : Ming Zhiyan’s Return

Delicious food and sake.

And if pressed by beautiful girls, shouldn’t you be honest with yourself and make a harem?

That’s the creed of an uncle who was teleported to another world and decided to relax and farm.

He and his brides are very satisfied with the food cooked with Japanese seasonings. The cooking ingredients of that world are delicious but his crops are delicious too.

“Tatsuya-san, do you hate having fun with us?”

“Not at all.”

This is a story of a man spending his time eating delicious food and having fun with girls.

Today’s dragon steak is as delicious as ever.

[Short Story] [Food Writing] [Sweet Little Cake] One day Ding Sha got transmigrated into a book, with a baby of unknown parentage in her belly.

Upon closer look, the baby turned out to be the male lead from a previous angsty novel she read.

A poor little thing unloved by his parents.

So impoverished that her stomach rumbled, but armed with superb cooking skills, she transformed herself from Ding Sha into the boxed lunch beauty at the construction site.

Kung pao chicken, garlic baby bok choy, spicy pork belly, tossed noodles – she cooked up a storm.

Before the construction workers could feel the stirrings of spring in their hearts, the baby’s father suddenly appeared.

Jun, carrying a travel bag stuffed full of cash, squatted outside the door gazing longingly at Ding Sha’s slightly bulging belly.

“Wife…I’m back…”

A 1v1 sweet doting story without abuse, a light and fluffy little sweet cake, safe for consumption.

Some exist with pride, others struggle with pride, some compete with pride, and there are those who fail with pride, but very few can walk away with pride.Congratulations, for as you read these lines, you have witnessed the whole lives of many great basketball players.This pronunciation was embodied when Stephen Curry, after facing defeat in 2021, claimed that no one would want to face them the following season; When Tim Duncan was convinced before the start of the 2014 Finals that they would not mess up; When Kobe Bryant promised at Old Buss's memorial to take the Lakers to the playoffs; When Nowitzki, shedding his label as a soft player, retreated to the locker room in tears at night; When Kevin Garnett let out a skyward howl after holding the championship trophy; When the 2004 Detroit Pistons won and the F4 Lakers lost…Our story begins in an era when pride still mattered.

[ Caution: High Heat Advisory ]“Harper, stop undressing me with your eyes. The plot isn’t going that way… YET.”Harper McKenzie, a newbie web novel author, has a problem — she struggles with romance scenes. As someone with almost nonexistent real-life experience in the matter, she can’t get the intimate chemistry right, and those chapters always come out dry and cringy.Fortunately for her, Harper finds a freelance editor willing to workshop her writing. But the surprise? That editor turns out to be her childhood friend and the very first crush of her life.What happens now when he offers her personal lessons on how to write the hottest romance … and love scenes?--------------Note: this is a fun, cozy, sweet story with a low-drama plot. No love triangles, no misunderstandings, no memory loss / car accidents / terminal illnesses / etc.. Mature content abounds, starting out soft but heats up quickly. You’ve been warned!--------------Sneak Peek:He slid her bra over her shoulders and, with impossibly quick and skilled work, tied the lacy garment around her wrists. “Spread your legs wider,” he ordered.Harper’s already faltering heartbeat faltered some more. The command in his tone was foreign, but it crashed over her like a heat wave, and even though she could barely begin to picture how salacious she must look, with her hands bound and thighs spread wide like an offering to be ravished, she could feel the scorching need coiling hotter and hotter in her core. Her body obeyed eagerly on its own accord, bringing herself fully open just like she was told.Eli grinned. Moving between her legs, he trailed hot kisses along her inner thigh, leaving sizzling little fires crackling in its wake. “Good girl. Now, what should your character say next?” A finger glided over her wet and wanting flesh in a slippery stroke, making her heart slam to a hard stop as a moan tore free. “Write the next line for me, what should I say before I unravel you with my tongue and make you scream my name?”