Another World’s Versatile Crafting Master - Chapter 1241 - : Exhibition

Isabella was supposed to be sipping champagne at a luxury spa, not waking up in the middle of a forest. Worse, a SYSTEM had attached itself to her like some clingy ex, spouting nonsense about survival, quests, and—oh, hell no—manual labor.“System, I was NOT built for the wilderness! My ideal ‘roughing it’ experience involves a five-star hotel with bad WiFi!”Now, instead of lounging in silk robes, she’s being ordered to farm? To hunt?“A farming quest? You want me—a city girl—to grow food? System, I once killed a cactus by overwatering it. This is NOT my calling!”And don’t even get her started on the hygiene situation.“You want me to bathe in a cold river? Darling, I require warm water, scented oils, and an ambience! What do I look like—some barbarian?!”Unfortunately, the locals—big, muscular beastmen—don’t seem to understand the concept of self-care. The women? Neglecting their skin like it’s a crime to be radiant. The men? Walking hygiene disasters.“Ladies, if your man can smell you before he sees you, we have a problem.”“You see this? This is lotion. It exists so you don’t look like a dried-up leaf. Use it.”“A beard should be majestic, not tragic. Let me fix it.”And the beastmen? They don’t just stare at her like she’s an oddity. No, they hover. They smirk. They lean in too close, fangs flashing with amusement.“Why do you keep looking at me like that?” she huffed, crossing her arms.The panther grinned, his tail flicking. “Because you’re fascinating when you’re annoyed.”No, absolutely not. She was not here for this nonsense.“If you have time to stare, you have time to moisturize.”She didn’t ask to be here. She didn’t ask to be their savior. But if she has to suffer through this world, she’s making everyone around her suffer less—through skincare, style, and some serious attitude.“If I hear one more ‘We don’t season our food here,’ I’m launching a war.”“If you have time to gossip, you have time to do squats.”“You want to impress a woman? Start with not smelling like the battlefield.”Survival isn’t just about fighting monsters; it’s about looking good while doing it. So what if the System keeps throwing impossible quests her way?“What do you mean ‘you can’t skip quests’?! Since when?! Where is the skip button?! I demand a skip button!”But somewhere between dodging ridiculous quests and fixing these people’s tragic grooming habits, Isabella found herself in situations. Uncomfortable, heart-racing situations.Like being trapped against a tree by the red python, his red eyes half-lidded as he murmured, “You talk too much, little star. Should I silence you?”Like waking up with the lion lord’s fur-lined cloak draped over her shoulders, his deep voice gruff, “You shiver in your sleep. I’ll fix that.”Like the phoenix watching her every move, his burning gaze searing into her skin as he mused,“You cause chaos wherever you go, but I find that I don’t mind.”Oh, hell. No. She was not about to fall for four beastmen. She was too pretty for this much stress.“If you insult me again, I’ll make sure your soul needs a beauty upgrade.”“I refuse to be disrespected by anyone who dresses like an unwashed tree branch.”And yet, when a rival tribe came to challenge her, when danger lurked too close, those same beastmen stood beside her—smirking, taunting, fighting for her.“A beastman growled at me today. I growled back. He ran. I am the alpha now.”Isabella isn’t just surviving. She’s thriving. And this world better keep up.

The Empress who dies in torture, An Rushuang is her name. After she wakes up, she finds herself has time-travelled to when she was twelve years old, but she would turn into Major General’s white horse at night. He is a general who orders about the winds and clouds on the battlefield, and she is a little girl lives in her boudoir seclusively.
She endeavors to change her fate, and he spared no effort to win every battle. They meet each other every day, well, it’s night to be accurate. Is that a dream or not? She pleads to marry the seignior to win peace for her family, only to find he is the one she is going to marry.
“Growing old with you under the same roof is my long-cherished wish”, thought them both.

- Description from Novelupdates

Madeline Celeste d'Aumont is the first daughter of Duke Aumont and Duchess Louise-Marie d'Aumont who has been engaged to the Second Prince of Pays Des Abrutis since she was a child. The Second Prince decided to marry a woman closer to his own age and broke off the engagement to Madeline who was left with a broken heart and a reputation as being an unwanted woman even before she was an adult. The Duke decided to help his daughter regain her confidence and reputation by sending her to the Academy de L'échec.

Ito Aoi was the son of a Kendo master who ran a dojo in downtown Tokyo. One day while crossing the street to get some Yakitori, Aoi was hit by a delivery truck and woke up as the trash first son of Duke Montfort, Guy de Montfort. Duke Montfort also sent his son to Academy de L'échec only Aoi instantly recognized that he was now living in the world of an Otome Game that his sister loved to play and talk about all the time. Aoi recognizes that Madeline is the villain from the game. Aoi also recalled his sister saying that Madeline was terrible in the game, but is she really?

An Yin, a delicate beauty caught in a risky charade, pretends to date playboy Bo Cheng to escape her troubles—until she meets his brother, ​Bo Shaojin: the ruthless, untouchable CEO whose icy dominance rules both boardrooms and high society.Their first encounter crackles with sizzling tension. Shaojin’s piercing gaze lingers on An Yin, his brother’s “girlfriend,” as she trembles under his scrutiny. But when their paths collide again—her, half-dressed and panic-stricken in his bathroom; him, a storm of restraint and hunger—the line between duty and desire shatters.As An Yin’s fake relationship unravels, Shaojin’s ironclad control dissolves. Drunk on obsession, he corners her in a midnight confession, his hardened facade crumbling as he vows, “I won’t touch you…” But his hands whisper promises his words deny.