Pregnant with Twins: Poison Doctor Consort is Too Hard to Please - Chapter 422 - : Isn’t He Still Poisoned?

“His novel. His rules. His fight to take it all back.”Who would have thought Tavian would end up trapped inside his own novel?Not the chosen one. Not the villain.Just a forgettable extra with laughable stats and no place in the story he once ruled.And the protagonist he shaped into a perfect weapon?He’s real—and hunting him.Armed only with the knowledge of the world he created, Tavian has one choice: exploit the system he built… or be devoured by his own creation.He knows how the story is supposed to end.And he won’t let anyone else decide his fate—especially not the characters he once controlled.

A third-tier star, Lu Weiyu, an ordinary beta, urgently needs a backer.
After finally getting into the marshal’s banquet, just about to strike up a conversation——
Marshal raised his phoenix eyes and said, “Get lost.”
Lu Weiyu rolled away non-stop, and was pulled back by the marshal before he rolled away.
With a low voice and domineering eyes, the Marshal put him in his arms: “Did I tell you to get out? Get back.”
Lu Weiyu nodded tremblingly.
The marshal surrounded her, humming: “If you touch someone, you will be responsible to him.”
Lu Weiyu was dumbfounded, and said nonsense: “Okay, take responsibility.”
The marshal pinched the man’s chin and snorted coldly: “What are you responsible for? Women, don’t play with fire.”
…
It was only later that Lu Weiyu found out that the marshal had fallen ill again.
Marshal: “I hit you with my life.”
——
Demining:
Glyph of sand.
ABO, I don’t know what to write, just arrange it.
The cultural design is mine, please leave if you don’t like it.
Which channel to write about is my business, and I don’t need others to tell me what to do.
the
Content tags: female supporting role sweet text wearing books
Search keywords: Protagonist: Lu Weiyu ┃ Supporting role: Zhao Shumi ┃ Others: Wearing Books, Dog Blood, Sand Sculpture

- Description from novelbuddy

How long I’d been here, I couldn’t quite recall. From this sorry situation, I as always raised my eyes to the sky; a sky in which the great, massive sun was clad in levity. Sunlight poured gently upon all. What a blessing it would have been for the world if only the skies could remain clear. For tomorrow too, and for all days to come, I was to continue to pray for calm. To endure for those who cried, with desperation I remained in prayer.

And then, one freezing, forlorn, soulless, stagnant, drizzly day we died. Or so I thought…

I killed the player.

He was one hell of a f*cker.