Second Try Idol - Chapter 23: Survival Show - Cover Song (8)

After crossing the first day, Hu Xiaoxiao beat the Emperor.On the second day of travelling, Hu Xiaoxiao beat up the Imperial Consort.The third day after crossing …“The empress has left the palace!”However, before he could walk out of the city gate, Hu Xiaoxiao was carried back by a man.The extraordinarily handsome emperor was so angry that he laughed sinisterly, “You haven't even given birth to your son yet, where do you want to run to?”

On the day of the wedding, Feng Xi Er laid on top of the ‘Ghost king’, eager to take off his wedding robe. He squinted his eyes, flipped over and switched their positions. He held her dishonest hand and said, coldly, “Miss is so eager to get on This Prince? Are you so desperate?” Feng Xi Er was just desperate to prove something, and once again reached out to take off his mask. The Ghost King smiled evilly, grabbed Feng Xi Er’s wrist and began to remove her robe and say: “Since Miss wants it, This Prince shall satisfy you…”

- Description from Novelupdates

Jian Wushuang was reborn in adversity. In order to get his revenge, he began to cultivate Heavenly Creation Skill. With the help of the Heaven defying cultivation method, Jian Wushuang gradually grew into a peerless genius from an ordinary practitioner. With a sword in hand, no one is his match. Using his extraordinary Sword Principle, he killed all his opponents and eventually became number one Sword Master from time immemorial.

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.”