Fate's Little Feral Consort - Chapter 243 - Xiao Yechen’s Worry

“Did you think healing me would make me love you more?” He scoffed grabbing my hair as he pulled me towards the door.“You're hurting me, Xavier,” I cried beating against him weakly. There was not much I could do.“If I ever see you an inch close to me,” He threw me against the wall “I'll damn the consequences and kill you,”.***My mate and I were destined to hate each other, only an act of true love or selflessness from the stronger mate could set our destines on the right path but for seven years, I had to put up with my mate's abuse and his supposed love of his life until one day I decided to leave.I left, determined to stay hidden from him forever... but I found out I was pregnant few weeks later.

Ye Xiong was an infamous war machine — feared by the world and known to many as the God of Death. After an incident, he returned to Jiangnan city and faked a marriage to the Ice Queen President, Yang Xinyi.This is the story of a shameless sugar baby and his quest to conquer a group of beautiful girls, including the Ice Queen President, and win their hearts!

She was the most arrogant assassin in the world in the twenty-first century, yet in the end, she was unintentionally killed by her senior brother, resulting in her traveling to Bingzhou continent. The first step after she opened her eyes was to crawl out of the fecal drain and throw the woman who schemed her into the fecal drain. However, at this critical moment, she met a cold and arrogant beautiful man. Looking at his disdainful expression … She would always remember the words of this proud and aloof man. “Once my beloved wife has my child, I will seize Ming You Nation’s land for you and our son!”

[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.