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... en the door, stopped for a moment and was stunned for a moment. Then she looked at Wu Yurong and asked with a surprised smile, “Ms. Wu, did you make an appointment with Wu Chen… Mr. Wu? Or with Miss Li?”

Su Qingying subconsciously wanted to hide it, so she corrected Wu Chen’s title.

“Wu Chen,” Wu Yurong said softly and sweetly. She had nothing to hide.

Wu Yurong knew about the relationship between Su Qingying and Wu Chen.

Therefore, Wu Yurong could judge that Su Q ...

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The Bulwark Duke’s residence had fallen. On the day of the duke’s son’s wedding, all men in the family were imprisoned. In just three days, the patriarch and duke died. What was originally a joyful occasion became a depressing funeral.

Shen Yijia had transmigrated as the unfortunate bride. By the time her husband was sent back home to her, he was crippled and heavily injured. Everyone said that this fallen family would never recover. Shen Yijia possessed a spirit liquid that helped her bring her husband back from the brink of death. When Song Jingchen woke up, he advised her to marry someone else instead. Shen Yijia stared at his handsome face and shook her head. “Don’t worry, I’ll keep you.”

On the way back to their hometown, they encountered bandits and even suicide warriors who tried to assassinate them at all costs. Shen Yijia patted her chest and vowed to her beautiful husband, saying, “Don’t worry, I’ll protect you.” However, nosy people kept nagging at her, saying that a wife should be knowledgeable, reasonable, and virtuous. Was she supposed to help her husband pick out a concubine too? Shen Yijia was annoyed. As a modern woman, she couldn’t possibly get her husband a concubine! Her husband belonged to her alone!

For the sake of earning money, she hunted in the mountains, battled scum, and took in disciples. Eventually, Shen Yijia’s life became smooth sailing.

Many years later, they returned to the capital. Everyone assumed that Song Jingchen disliked having such a violent wife, and would soon divorce her to remarry. The young noblewomen rubbed their hands together in glee, waiting for Shen Yijia to leave so they could take her place. But as they waited and waited, they saw the Song Jingchen gently hold Shen Yijia’s hands right after the latter had beaten someone up. Song Jingchen asked worriedly, “Does it hurt?” [1v1 sweet love. A doting yet violent female lead vs a jealous two-faced male lead]

MTL - My Son is a Transmigrated PrinceChapter 111 111.
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Song Yuan accidentally picked up a 5-year-old child.

The child has bright eyes, chiseled features, and prideful demeanor. He referred to himself as “this prince” and his mannerism was wild, cool, and stuck up.

“This prince will never eat such lowly food!”

“How dare you flirt with other men behind the back of my imperial father?”

“He insulted this prince and you sided with him? This prince will sentence his entire clan to death!”

Song Yuan was very disturbed. The DNA test had confirmed that the child was, indeed, her son, but why did he act like he was delusional?

More importantly, who was the father of the child?

The prince was going mad from worrying; Imperial Father, if you don’t come soon, Imperial Mother is really going to cheat on you!

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Shock! The Spell Is In English!Chapter 683: The Dungeon Where Monkey Was Imprisoned!
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Lugh woke up to find that he had transmigrated to a hundred million years later.

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“Mr. Hu Lai, today’s football forwards like you who can only score goals are getting narrower and narrower … But nevertheless, you have achieved dazzling achievements. What is your secret to success?”

On a winter afternoon, Hu Lai showed reporters from all over the world the honor he had just received, and some reporters asked him such questions.

Facing the eyes cast by the reporters, Hu Lai’s thoughts returned to the afternoon when he was in high school. He stood alone beside the stadium to watch other students play games. They did not let him play, thinking he was here to make trouble.

He also thought of what the coach said to him with a straight face: “Hu Lai, if you can’t pay ten times the effort of others, your talent is just worthless stones.” And a disdainful voice: “Modern football The demands on the center are getting higher and more comprehensive. What’s the use of shooting only? ”

In the end, his thoughts were frozen at that time, and the night was already looming in the eastern sky. In the middle of the abandoned vacant land covered with grass, a girl said to him very seriously: “Hu Lai, you are actually gifted. , And a great talent! Because you know where the goal is! ”
Hu Lai stared at the girl’s eyes, and saw the sunset behind him from those eyes.

The sunlight is reflected in the pupils, flowing, burning, condensing into a halo, as if to melt yourself in this light.

Hu Lai, who withdrew his thoughts, returned to this warm winter afternoon, facing the excited reporters, he smiled slightly: “Because I know, the goal is there.”

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