Mr. Zhan's Little Demon is All Grown up - Chapter 138 - : Hacker Invasion

This is a story about a reborn Immortal Emperor, who plays the fool to trick his enemies!The regrets of the past life will not be repeated in this life! If one day I become the Immortal Emperor, I shall ensure blossoms bloom profusely!

Escaping from the wedding she dreaded with Crown Prince, Aed Ruad, Princess Anastasia ended up becoming the captive of the Lore's most dangerous man, Prince Ileus.

"It's my first time. I'm afraid of pain. Be gentle…" Fang Xinxin's body is stiff with anxiety.Bai Qinghao pinches her dotingly. "We're just swimming. I didn't pull you with too much force; how did you manage to flop into the water like that?"In their previous life, she had been overweight. Her face was covered in acne. Yet, he still forcefully ate her up. Exactly how much did he love her? However, she never noticed his sincerity and blindly pursued a scheming bastard. In the end, she was left blind and half-paralyzed.After receiving a second chance, she finally understands that her poor appearance was caused by the 'drugs' her sister had added into her skincare products. In this lifetime, she chooses to distance herself away from the bastard, to lose weight, and to 'treat' her face. She recovers her seductive figure and outstanding looks, treasuring her husband's love. They then sweetly collaborate to torture the bastard and give birth to a little 'dumpling'…

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.”