Falling Dreams of Fang Hua - Chapter 64: Princes’ Side Stories

He is handsome, arrogant and is of the elite class. Being straightforward and brave, she shamelessly pursued him, sending him gifts, flowers and tried to get close to him. She was humiliated when his staff gossiped about her and retreated. Then he rejected her and told her they could only be friends. She avoided him but no matter how much she tried, they frequently cross paths.

Suddenly one day he told her. “I want to be your boyfriend.”

What a mess! ! !

Lumberling, a 42-year-old civil engineer, grew numb to the monotonous rhythm of modern life. Hoping to rekindle his sense of wonder, he set out on a solitary nature trip, only to stumble upon an ancient, forgotten pyramid. A strange red light burst forth, killing him instantly… and binding itself to his soul.Cast adrift in the void, his soul found no rest, until he awoke in the body of a young foot soldier, bleeding and broken on a war-torn battlefield in a world not his own.Determined not to die again, Lumberling fights to survive in this brutal new realm where knights clash with monsters, kingdoms rise and fall, and mysterious powers shape the fate of nations.Armed with a strange ability to devour the essence of those he slays, he begins to carve out a new path, one forged by blood, strength, and sheer will.But power alone may not be enough. In a world where danger lurks in every shadow, and ancient forces stir in the dark, can a lost soul rise above fate… or will he be consumed by the very essence he seeks to control?

The daughter of a duke, the stuttering Maximilian, married a knight of lowly status at her father’s coercion.

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.”