Catastrophe Containment Facility - Chapter 873: Strange Hotel

Ye Xiwen was previously only an ordinary university student on Earth, but unexpectedly crossed through into the world known as the Zhen Wu Jie world! In this world, formidable warriors are capable of turning over mountains and collapsing the ocean, destroying the sky and extinguishing the earth! He originally had ordinary aptitude, because of that he received the mysterious special space! Any martial art can be deduced within the mysterious space, other people practice for decades, he only needs a year! So long as he has enough spirit stones, any talents he faces are all floating clouds!

Li Xingwan had transmigrated into a book, becoming a D-list celebrity scandal-ridden and already married.Her husband was a bad omen. Rumor had it, he was a poor and elderly man with hemiplegia. Not only that, she also had to play stepmother.In effect, Li Xingwan was just like a widow.Regarding these rumors, Li Xingwan herself remained silent.The clamoring on the internet grew more intense.“That person who appeared on screen just now, couldn't have been a woman taking care of her hemiplegic husband, could she?”“And what about that ugly freak of a stepson?”“Won't this family put on some sort of tragic drama in front of the camera?”“Li Xingwan, she's just shameless. For money, she'd even marry a hemiplegic.”But...As the camera panned,who was that cold and abstinent Buddha's Disciple? And who was that soft, adorable little bun?!Ahhh! I'm going crazy!!

What happens when, in the midst of struggling to keep up with life, you suddenly discover that you were a princess in a past life? Now, you're just a waitress with a drunken mother and a pile of bills to pay. But deep down, you know one thing: you’ll find the stupid jerk responsible for ending your royal life, no matter what it takes.Alexia POV:Then there are the spoiled, narcissistic rich jerks who think their daddy's car gives them a free pass to treat women like objects. Not today, Satan. These guys are like walking perfume ads with egos bigger than their bank accounts. I swear, they should just marry themselves—they're clearly their own type.When one of those jerks lands at my table, I can smell the entitlement from a mile away. I don't even wait for the inevitable sleazy pickup line or the “accidental” brush of their hand against mine. Nope. I pawn them off on one of the other waiters faster than you can say “unpaid rent.”