MTL - After Crossing, I Marked the Empress - Chapter 113 Nice to have you

Chen Muxue, the chef of Internet celebrity private kitchen, has transmigrated into a book, and has become the ultimate villain of the male fairy tale novel, and shot the male protagonist away with an iron pot as soon as he came.

Seeing the dilapidated sect and a group of picked up children waiting to be fed, Chen Muxue decided to eat before talking.

It’s just that I didn’t expect that this meal would last the whole summer…

One day, a man with a celestial spirit came over: “Master, is the sect in charge of food? If it is in charge of food, I am willing to worship inside the sect.”

Chen Muxue: “No problem, go plow the field!”

The next day, the entire cultivation world was shocked! Everyone began to test Qiandingmen one after another. No one knew why the great god of Xianmen, who had always been dressed in white, was willing to farm here…

- Description from novelbuddy

~•No Escape•~“Are you running away from me, my sweet girl” spoke a voice in the hallway that made her stop in her tracks. The hallway had turned dark with only the wall lamps that burned brightly casting the shadow of the man on the floor as he slowly emerged from the other end.“What are you doing here, your majesty,” She said and bowed immediately as she saw him approach her with slow but steady steps.“You haven't answered me, sweet” The man said with a sweet smile that made her wary and he heard the way her heart skipped a beat. He stood before her and used his index finger to raise her chin. He tilted his head as he gazed into her green eyes that looked back at him with fear.He took a step forward closing the distance between them and his eyes narrowed when she took a step back, but that didn't stop him from cornering her.“Did you think you can escape from me?” He continued to question and she didn't miss the mockery behind his words.“I…I” she felt her words tied to her tongue because of the man's daunting aura. She felt him trace her forehead with his finger down to her jaw. He continued moving his hand down to her neck and to the top of her swell and her thudding heart hitched when his hand continued to stay there.“Did you think you can escape from me?” He bent towards her as he spoke. His breath fell on her neck which sent a jolt that traveled down her body.“I told you, you're tied to me and me to you”_______________________Perdita Kartar was a winsome yet strange young lady. She had an appealing beauty with her green eyes that invoked and impelled anyone who gazed into them.She had fooled her villagers so she could live and protect herself and her remaining family from the night creatures and also humans.But what was bizarre of all, was that Perdita had a secret she shared with no one.She had lived in the village since she was little, and over the years, she had been discreet with each move she made. Unfortunately, things didn't go as she planned.Despite her cautious decorum and fight to stay out of sight, a pair of glacial red eyes falls on her, which followed and refused to leave her out of sight.

After spending half a year in the province, Cheng Yang took a luxurious cruise for seven days.
Accidentally hooked up with a CEO on the way.

Later, Cheng Yang found out that he was pregnant.
Just as Cheng Yang was preparing to secretly give birth to the baby, it was a coincidence that he fell asleep in the big president’s bed.

It’s impossible to run with the ball, his man is handsome and rich.
Must cling tightly and can’t be torn down.

- Description from Novelupdates

war, blood, and betrayal carved him into something else. A legend. A killer. A mercenary whose name struck fear into both criminals and so-called heroes alike.But now, the world had changed. Lines blurred between right and wrong, between justice and vengeance. Should he step into the light, wear the mask of a hero, and fight for a cause greater than himself? Or should he embrace the darkness that had always been his home, a place where morality was just another illusion?“Don’t box me in with your shallow ideas of good and evil,” he muttered, his voice calm but edged with danger. “I do what I want, when I want.”The air was thick with tension as he moved like a shadow through the dimly lit room. The writer had no time to react—one moment, he was scribbling nonsense about legends and myths; the next, a cold barrel pressed against the back of his head.The figure smirked beneath his mask, eyes gleaming with something between amusement and menace.“You wanna write fiction?” he whispered. “Then let me show you how real legends are made.”A single gunshot shattered the silence.As the writer’s body slumped over the desk, the man holstered his weapon, stepping into the faint glow of a flickering neon light.“It’s that simple,” he said, his voice unwavering. “I’m Deathstroke.”