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... with a soy milk cookie on it, walking towards the peach blossoms, a smile wrinkled with a pleat, and the dry voice was sharp and harsh: "A few brothers Blessing is big, hard work, come and eat some warm stomach."

Lin Su porcelain was twisted and twisted back into the banquet of the banquet, and she showed a pair of eyes and squinted. This peach bud has faded away from the suffocating scent, and only the peach trees that bloom in bloom are fragrant.

Outside the woods, there are sti ...

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In the first year of the fire calendar, a large-scale spiritual recovery has occurred around the world.

One year after the fire calendar, the Jingwei Division was established and began to contain supernatural beings on a large scale.

After three years of the fire calendar, Xun Xi traveled to this world full of despair. However, in front of him, there is only a diary written by himself before his death, who claims to be the future.

The diary revealed his future death.

In other words, every line and every sentence in the diary is his masterpiece.

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“Others are the favored sons of the heavens who have traveled through the world. Wherever they go, they will be followed by chance. Why is it only me, where I will die wherever I go, I am just a rebel, a version orphan.”

“unfair!”

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Carrying a future diary in his arms, Xun Xi is struggling to survive in this desperate world. He firmly believes: My future style, I am the master!

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The boundless universe is full of many wonders.

I, Chen Ping, only have one sword!

I can move mountains, overturn the seas upside down, suppress demons, slap the face of gods, pluck the stars, break rivers, destroy cities, and… open the heavenly abode!

***

The Midland world was full of wonders.

In the center of the world, there was a scholar who had once used a sword to slash out a waterfall of the Milky Way. This was the person he was the most proud of.

At the edge of East Sea’s cliffs, there was a nameless Daoist who was unwilling to ascend to the peak of a mountain. He only wished for a cool breeze to brush against his face.

In the Western Pure Land, there was an old monk who liked to treat people to chicken soup and tell stories.

In the southern border of the Wilderness, there was a blind painter who controlled golden-armored puppets that were as tall as mountains to move the hundred thousand mountains, creating an embroidered picture.

A impoverished youth who grew up in the north. One day, he saw tens of thousands of Sword Kinesis Immortals above him, like a swarm of locusts crossing the border.

He wanted to see for himself the scholar that the storyteller had mentioned, the surging tides of the East Sea, the vast swamps of sand in the west, and the majestic mountains of the Southern Wasteland.

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Falling In Love With The King Of BeastsChapter 681 - Christmas Special 2021 - Part 10
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Elia is a poor university student until the night she’s taken to the world of the Anima—ruled by humans whose ancient hearts pulse with the blood of animals. There she’s forced into a battle to the death. But when Elia survives, and refuses to kill her final opponent, the King must either kill Elia himself, or take her as his mate.

Reth, the brutal King of the Beasts with the blood of lions, shocks everyone when he chooses the weak, human Elia to become his Queen. He promises her every comfort of his wealth and position—but he is clear: She will not warm his bed. He chose her to defeat those that were trying to corner him into blending his Leonine line with the Wolves.

Elia needs the help of the Anima to become stronger and rule them well. But the vengeful Wolves see only a weak human that brought them shame. As Elia and Reth grow closer, the wolves are determined to destroy her. Will Reth and Elia admit their feelings for each in time to fight for the Kingdom—and their lives—against the villainous wolf-tribe? Or will the wolves kill Elia and steal the throne?

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*****

He stalked towards her, chin low so the shadow cast by his hard jaw cut across the thick fur collar of his vest. His hair had fallen over his eyes in the scuffle, so he peered at her through it like a lion in the grass. With each step, his graceful, rolling gait reminded her of a predator stalking its prey. Despite the forest floor littered in twigs and leaves, he didn’t make a sound.

“Wh-who are you?” Elia stammered, backing away, her hands up. He met her step for step until she came up hard against the tree behind her—and didn’t stop until he loomed over her, so broad his shoulders and chest made a wall in front of her. She could feel the heat rising off his skin in the cool, night air.

“I am the Leonine King.” His voice was a dark, husky gravel. Behind him a chorus of wheezes, howls, and chirps of agreement rose from the people watching. “And you are?”

“Elia,” she breathed.

“Elia,” he growled, leaning in closer, bringing with him the scent of pine and rain and the musk of something distinctly male. “I am Reth.” He said the name with a strange, guttural roll in his throat. “I am King of Beasts. I am Clan Leader, and I am Alpha of WildWood.” Several snarls rose from the crowds behind him then, but he ignored them.

Elia swallowed as he leaned in until the scruff on his jaw rasped her cheek. “I am the King,” he said, “And you will be my mate.”

The forest behind him erupted.