Dafeng’s Night Squad - Chapter 1291 - : I’ve always been here _

Anita White gave up everything for love.Her family. Her power. Her legacy.Eight years ago, she found David. He was poor, brilliant, naive, and loyal. Or so she believed. She built his empire from the ground up, turning a nobody into a billionaire.But when betrayal came, it was more than infidelity. David Blackwood shattered her body, her mind, and her soul—infecting her with disease, killing her child, and freezing her out of the very world she created.But Anita is a White. And now, she’s coming home.Back in the arms of the most ruthless family in the country, Anita must navigate corporate warfare, mafia politics, and deadly alliances.To take down David—whose saintly public image masks darker secrets than she ever imagined—Anita turns to the one man she vowed never to see again: Maverick Ravenswood, a mafia kingpin with questionable loyalty and a dangerous obsession.And then there’s Killian Wellington. The childhood fiancé whose life was destroyed, and who may want revenge... or something far more complicated.As secrets unravel and past sins come to light, Anita realizes the betrayal goes deeper than one man. She was never the queen... she was just a pawn in someone else’s game.But now?She’s about to burn the board with Maverick on her right, Killian on her left, and her father, Reginald White behind her.#Slowburn

To rise from defeat; to revive amidst the dissipation.

Ye Zichen was just a normal university student. Or so he thought.

[Longevity + Discipleship + No Female Lead + Lighthearted Humor with No Tragic Moments]When his master picks food, he spins the table there;When his master chants spells, he chats without a care;When his master takes rest, he sings a lively song;When his master lies late, he bangs the pot along;His master lives on long, but his life is rather short;His master lays him down on the hillside, as a sort;His master lifts a cup, but he won’t take a drink;His master shares a tale, but he won’t stop to think;His master holds a feast, but he leaves the table wide;His master calls his soul, but he’s nowhere to abide.Spring returns to the hills, with blooms so bright and fair,Yet master and disciple are parted, one in heaven, one elsewhere.