MTL - Of All the Transmigrations, Why Am I a Prisoner? - Chapter 45 Neither the wind nor the flag

What if your worst enemies suddenly became your most devoted allies—because you turned them into irresistible, enchanting femboys?Meet Cecil: a cunning, ruthless mastermind hiding an extraordinary power beneath his calm exterior. With a single stroke of his feathered pen, he transforms those who dare to cross him into beautiful, loyal members of his ever-growing harem. But this isn’t some silly game—it's a calculated campaign to build a nation unlike any other.In a world of secrets, magic, and brutal politics, Cecil must navigate a treacherous landscape filled with dangerous foes and hidden agendas. His targets? Only those who insult, threaten, or betray him. His allies? A charming, fiercely loyal band of femboys who live by his side in a shadowy sanctuary.If you think power is all about strength and magic, think again. For Cecil, true power lies in control, seduction, and a pen that changes fate.Welcome to the Velvet Court—where loyalty is beautiful, and revenge is intoxicating.

Before her reincarnation, Jiang Nanfei, after marrying Huo Beijiang, led a troubled life which included the tragic death of her younger brother, the early loss of her parents, and betrayal from those she trusted the most. After being reborn, she thanked heaven and earth, shamelessly tried to get close to him, stick with him, make him hers.In this life, she wants to clean the dust off her heart and through her own efforts, achieve the life she desires. The beauty of life is not only about the scum man in front of her, or the pure lotus far away, it is also about the family behind her, the friends around her, and the man who loves her dearly.

“Evil God of the Universe, You are in every space and time. Present in every dimension of reality and govern the darkness of our world.Oh, almighty Atticus! Hear our plea and grant us your presence tonight, awaken my Lord!”The rain had completely stopped and the strong gale had subsided into the fading raindrops. The night had turned eerily silent and only the sizzling and cackling of the fire entered their ears.Suddenly, they all felt like floating from their feet despite setting foot on the watery, hard ground, as if they were traversing into space. The darkness of the night gradually turned darker, enveloping them, morphing into everyone, like a void eating them slowly. Sequentially, their breathing turned oddly slower. Despite exaggeratedly inhaling air to breathe, it was to no avail, as if a higher entity was limiting them from breathing.Nolan felt his throat and tried to open his mouth to gasp more air but failed. Everyone but him was in a state of indignation and panic as they struggled to breathe to fill their lungs with air. Nolan tried to calm his heart. He closed his eyes and stopped inhaling air in pure panic, instead, he put his heartbeat and breathing into a rhythm. It was hard at first, but after a minute, he found his breathing gradually went stable.His whole being was in pure anticipation of what was going to happen next.After a couple more minutes, the storm completely subsided, the night turned to normal. Nolan remained standing, taking in his surroundings with his eyes closed. Everything turned silent. The eerie atmosphere and the crackling of the fire from the hay figure didn’t even enter his ears. Nolan waited for a couple more minutes, his breathing turning normal. He was reluctant to open his eyes, afraid he might ruin their ritual.“It’s alright now, Young Master. You can open your eyes now.”Nolan’s breathing hitched. He jolted on his feet as he fluttered his eyes open.“Atticus? W-why are you here?”The butler, standing in front of him, a raincoat hung on his arm, smiled. “I am everywhere, Young Master, in order to best serve you.”****Atticus, a demi-god from the underworld, was cast out of his parents' realm and banished to the human world. The reason? He had yet to give them any grandchildren.Disclaimer: This story is a work of fiction and is purely the product of my imagination. Any resemblance to real people, events, or beliefs is entirely coincidental. The intention is not to disrespect or diminish any faith or tradition, but rather to explore ideas within a fictional context. Reader discretion is advised.

In the twenty-ninth year of the First Emperor, Bo Langsha was attacked.

When Ying Zheng merged the memories of the 21st century history doctor, looked at the mighty mountains and rivers in front of him, and said to himself, “In this life, my Daqin can’t die!”

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