PREVIEW

... tried a sip of the broth. "Mmm… sweet." She turned to try the mushroom soup—it was delicious too. Xiaoguo put down the spoon in satisfaction. She was not in a hurry to prepare lunch, so she went outside to check on the starch to see if the drying process was complete.

As soon as she was outside, she saw Zhuang Zhuang touching the donkey. Xiaoguo quickly reminded him, "Zhuang Zhuang, don't go behind it. It may kick you."

Seeing that Zhuang Zhuang had shifted himself to stand besi ...

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When a gas tank exploded, Jian Qingqing transmigrated into the body of a little girl who had just died of starvation. Looking at the skinny, starving family living in a worn-down house that did little to shield them from the rainstorm outside, Jian Qingqing felt that she would soon die again. But she hadn’t expected her kitchen to follow her through time. Looking at the abundance of supplies in it, Jian Qingqing’s eyes lit up. Great! She wasn’t going to die this time!

Using the supplies in the kitchen, Jian Qingqing led her family as they opened up the land for farming and building houses. Unexpectedly, the high-yield grains led the entire country out of poverty. Everyone praised Miss Jian as a God that had descended to earth! She developed a method to process coarse salt into fine salt so that people could eat it with ease. The Emperor’s face was filled with tears as he said, “Miss Jian is really my lucky star!”

In the end, the whole world was unified and shouted, “All of this is due to Miss Jian’s hard work!”

Jian Qingqing said, “I just like to grow crops. I didn’t do anything!”

After her success, Jian Qingqing planned to find a nice, obedient husband to bring home. But what was up with the legendary prince who was ruthless, indifferent, and could stop children from crying? Why was he always appearing beside her?

Ming Zhiyan said, “I’m nice and obedient. Why don’t you marry me, Qingqing?”

Looking at the man who was clearly a wolf pretending to be an obedient dog, Jian Qingqing fell into deep thought.

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He is very cold and passionate, Mu Yanwang, who means what he says. He has always regarded women as dirt but she, he has only spoiled her.

At first, he said with overbearing arrogance – “Even you are mine.” Afterwards, he gradually fell for the enemy – “Mine is yours.” Finally, he surrendered obediently, – “Ning Xiaofei, I’m also yours.”

Ning Xiaofei, his little wife. He just wants to put her in the palms of his hand, to love.

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Zhao Feng works hard to prove himself better than peers in the Martial Arts Training Ground, but just when he's about to give up, a mysterious black, marble-like, object fuses with his left eye, granting him the powers of the ancient gods.With his newfound powers, Zhao Feng embarks on the journey toward becoming the greatest martial artist of all time.

Assassin Tycoon: Slay, Earn and Upgrade With The CoreCoin SystemChapter 13: Kill The Merchandise of Dioleghtans
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How does it feel to lose your parents at the tender age of four?Imagine the trauma, the psychological scars. Now, take it a step further—what if they died right in front of you?That was Kael’s reality. As a young boy, he watched his parents perish while desperately protecting a golden coin.At the time, Kael had no idea of its significance. He only knew that their deaths were tied to it.Fleeing from his father’s murderers, he was forced to survive on the unforgiving streets, learning to fight, steal, and endure.Twelve years later, he had transformed into one of the deadliest assassins the world had ever known.He had no official title. No known employer. No traceable identity. Just a calling card.They called him The Coin Flipper.Not because he left his mark, but because after every kill—just as the body hit the ground, as the last breath escaped—he would flip a coin.No one knew why. Some believed it was mockery, a cruel reminder that fate had turned against them. Others thought it was ritual.But what they didn’t know was that each coin held power—literal currency of the Core System embedded in Kael’s soul.Every kill earned him millions. Digital fortunes funneled into off-grid accounts with each confirmed target. Blood turned into bounty, pain into profit.And one thing was certain: if you saw the glint of a coin spinning through the air, death had already found you.