PREVIEW

... esearch stage. Big battle.

Staring at Zhou Yi outside for thousands of miles, with a serious expression, "Old Duan, is it appropriate for us two elders to hide inside and let a little girl charge outside?"

"Old Wan, don't act rashly, Xiaojiu here is more familiar than us." Mu Qinglin said in a deep voice, she looked at the front, handed the camera wrapped in a coat to the back row with her hands behind her back, and said, "Hide this. Give me."

The camera equipped in the desk ...

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In this lifetime and every other, I promise to only be loyal to you. Even if I have to crawl back from Hell, I will do so gladly. Wow, you just broke all the cold CEO fantasies.

Like every romance novel, Yun Qian Meng faced the evil stepmother and negligent father. On top of that, she was arranged to marry a scum man who manipulated her, stole from her, and finally... killed her.

When she woke up, she found herself back at the top of the world. It was all a dream, she told herself and moved on... until the scum fiancé made an appearance.

Who was she? Yun Qian Meng. Twenty-five. Founder and CEO of a company worth billions of dollars. The world was at her feet. How dare this scum man think he was worth her?

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“My father wants to marry me off for his gain? I’ll find a husband he will never approve of.”

“Of course... He needs to meet my conditions first.”

Who would have known that her arch-nemesis, Mo Qingchen, would present himself in front of her as a potential suitor.

“Lunatic! I wouldn’t marry him even if he were the last man on Earth!”

Ants surrounded Mo Qingchen. He was twice as powerful as her. Twice as wealthy. And the conditions he was offering were top notch. He'd lit the fire and she swarmed to him like a moth to a flame.

“Well, a contract marriage never hurt anyone.”

She was looking for financial and social gain but she ended up on a path to finding herself and things she never knew she wanted.

The curtain rose. Shots were fired. The play began. The broken girl started her journey towards the woman she was destined to be.

All the world’s a stage. And a play is only entertaining when chaos ensues.

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“Master, are we going to keep what happened last night a secret between us?”

“For how loud you moaned and cried, Qing-er, I think the whole world has already learned all about it, and your concern is irrelevant.”

Yun Qing-er, the only disciple of the legendary immortal swordmaster Bai Ye, has been hiding her feelings for her master for years. Unaccepted by norms and morals, it is the darkest secret that she swears to bury deep within her heart.

But life has other plans. Bai Ye's desire for her burns hot beneath his solemn appearance. He will teach her not only the art of the sword, but also the pleasures of life that she never knew existed before.

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Smut starts at Chapter 17, with a teaser in Chapter 11. A bit softcore at first but will get wilder quickly as the story moves on :)

Note that this is NOT a typical cultivation romance. Immortals and spiritual power and whatnot are all plot devices… You'll see what I mean in just a few chapters!

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[Sneak Peek]

He pinned me against the poplar tree at the center of the garden. A breeze rustled past, stirring the sunlight sparkling through the autumn foliage above us, and a sprinkle of gold fell over his shoulders. “Say you want me,” he whispered.

“Bai Ye—” I breathed, but the rest of my words were replaced by moans the moment he traced his kisses along my neck and took my earlobe into his mouth.

Familiar tingles roared through me as he nibbled and suckled gently. His hand slid up my chest, and he played with my sensations with his lips and tongue and fingers until my arms trembled around him. All other thoughts vanished from my mind. The only thing I knew was the irresistible feeling of him on me, so overwhelming that my knees started growing weak. I would've fallen if he wasn't pinning me hard against the tree.

“Bai Ye …” I moaned again, clawing at his clothes. “Of course I want you … Right here, right now.”

He let out a soft puff of laughter, and his hand grazed down, gripping the folds of my dress. With a rip of fabric, he tore them away.