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... alchemists Hua.

  What he lacks is an opportunity to get rid of the suspicion, which requires the right person to blame.

   Otherwise, even if she killed Hua Danshi without leaving any evidence, Fu Xuemei might still think of him.

  Today, Lu Changan finally got a good opportunity.

  He didn't know what confidence Hua Danshi had to keep an eye on him, but this person was undoubtedly alone.

  Alchemist Hua focused his attention on Lu Changan, but he didn't real ...

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Yu Youyao had a nightmare. In her dream, she was married to the Marquis’ son, Song Mingzhao, and had become a mere medicine-human for her third sister, Yu Jianjia. After having blood extracted from her heart for three years, Yu Youyao’s life was nearing its end, so her wrist was slit and she died just like that.

Upon waking up, her heart thumped wildly and she decided to choose the first man she saw to escape that tragic fate. Thus, she clung onto the leg of her maternal cousin who had come all the way from the You Kingdom. “Cousin, I’ll be good to you for the rest of my life.”

Zhou Linghuai looked at the girl nestled in his arms. She had a lovely face and puppy eyes. Despite his usual ruthlessness, he suddenly found himself unable to reject her. And so, he became Yu Youyao’s protector, helping her to take revenge on those who bullied her, fend off the schemes of others, and reject all of her suitors. He even helped her attain glory and magnificence.

Once Yu Youyao reached adulthood, events started to progress according to her dream. The Marquis’s son, Song Mingzhao, had indeed come to request for her hand in marriage. However, Zhou Linghuai pressed Yu Youyao against the wall and said in a low voice, “You’re mine. You can’t marry anyone else!”

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Every drop of this family bloodline is stained with sin. They are the embodiment of contradiction; calm yet maniacal, with great memories yet often forgetful. They pledge themselves to their dreams yet often compromise, are angels that are also devils… It’s why I hate them. And also love them.

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Transmigrated as a Fat villain: All heroines are after meChapter 89 - The Reason that made, Kael a Cuckold
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“Y-young master, the Lord is requesting your presence.”

I looked at myself in the mirror as a maid's voice, laced with trepidation, reached my ears.

“Tell him I'll be there shortly.”

“I understand, y-young master.”

I paid no mind to her quivering presence, my gaze fixed on my reflection.

And this is exactly why I despise this character, Yes, He is a villain with my name but does it matter, no, the problem is this guy's weight he is so heavy that this tub of lard is weighing me down, literally.

For someone who prides themselves on muscle, nothing's worse than “fat,” and this guy before me? Well, he's a prime example of that.

“I suppose I need a workout.”

Reaching the door, exhaustion gripped me and I found myself gasping for breath. It was unbelievable – this body was so darn heavy.

After an arduous struggle, I finally made my way out of the room, causing servants carrying a litter¹ to scurry over. They lowered it, creating a path for me to step onto it.

I tried to ignore the spectacle – it was this pampering that turned this fatty into a giant tire. Pushing the annoyance aside, I began to move, managing only about 10 steps before my legs gave out.

Damn it. Seriously? I collapsed, leaving the twenty servants to hastily lift me and place me onto the litter. For me, it felt more like a stretcher. There I was, sprawled on it like some mountain, panting heavily.

“You damn god! I hope the protagonist of your favorite novel gets NTRed!”

“We're here, young master.”

Can you believe it? his father's office is just thirty steps away from this pumpkin room, yet he insists on using a litter.

“Give me a hand.”

I ordered while cursing this hefty body under my breath.

“Oh, come, come, my dear child. How was your day?”

I glanced at the middle-aged man, his face exuding warmth and care.

As for my feelings? This old man right here is the reason this chubby exists. Not that I give a darn about my indulgent father.

“I'm alright, Dad.”

Yes, imagine this: as a noble, this old man spoiled this pumpkin so much that he thinks he can go around scolding the mansion's maids and servants.

“Take a seat. Hey, fetch his chair!”

You might wonder why he doesn't sit on a regular chair. Well, that's because the chair is custom-made to accommodate this hippo-sized frame.

“What's going on, Dad?”

Seriously, why would he summon this big old hippo over to his quarters? There's gotta be a reason for it....

“Your fiancee is coming tomorrow”

……………………………………………………………

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