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... in rich, deep hues that reflected the affinity for the night. Heavy, velvet curtains of blood-red cascaded from ceiling to floor, veiling the room in an air of mystique. Moonlight filtered through tall, arched windows, casting elongated shadows that danced across the polished wooden floor.

In one corner stood an ornate, antique coffin, its lid slightly ajar, hinting at the slumbering form within. Lined with plush, midnight-black velvet, the coffin invited restful repose for the nocturna ...

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A few years ago, the rumored delicate and fragile wheelchair bound beauty of the Rong Family was kidnapped by someone.

While everyone panicked and burned their heads looking for her, only one man was able to find her.

Rong Mo carefully asked the tall and gloomy man before her. “Will…..you continue to protect me?”

The man took one glance at her immobile legs and pale tender face and answered. ”No”

“Then why did you rescue me?”

She waited for a long time before she heard him say lightly. “It was along the way.”

A few years ago, Rong Mo thought this man’s blood must be cold. It was only many years later that he really did become the true sense of the word ‘bodyguard’, and she finally ‘‘experienced’ the warmth and hot blood that his body always had.

Afterwards, Rong Mo sat on her wheelchair in the school garden and looked at the man pretending to be a school worker at a far distance. She reached her hand out to him and said. “Hey. Come over here and lift me up. I need to get to class.”

Nie Feizhan: “….”

“Aren’t you my bodyguard?”

‘I’m only a school worker.” Nie Feizhan reminded her. ”I’m just here to do menial labor.”

“Then menial labor school worker, come here and carry me.”

Afterwards-

“Hey, the bodyguard over there, come here and carry me. I want to go to sleep.”

Nie Feizhan took big steps over. “Are you sure you want me to carry you into the bedroom?”

Rong Mo retreated slightly. “Didn’t you dislike carrying me?”

Nie Feizhan paused and bent down to sweep her off her chair. He said through almost gnashed teeth. “I can’t bear to pick you up everyday and put you in my pocket and you still think that’s not enough like?”

The previous Nie Feizhan: I don’t want to tease her.

I don’t have any interest in cute girls.

I don’t want to protect her, not one bit.

I also won’t fall madly in love with her in the future.

The future Nie Feizhan: Only I can carry her from her chair.

Whomever dares to touch her will be gambling his life away with me.

This is the story of a weak and frail gorgeous heiress vs her manly and protective bodyguard.

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Save Bibi Dong and help Zhu Zhuqing get rid of the scumbag.

Master wants to accept me as an apprentice? Sorry, you don’t deserve it.

Show off Tang San with one hand, blast the white tiger with one punch, cut Tang Hao with three swords…

A few years later, Luo Yu swept Douluo, and the king came to the Wuhun Palace, stepping on the abyss, pointing at the vastness of the sword.

In the vast God Realm, who is worthy of a battle…

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Hunter Cha Eui-jae, who was dispatched to seal a rift that appeared over the West Sea, was flung out as soon as he closed the rift. When he came to his senses, he was lying in a garbage dump.Starving, he was drawn like a zombie is to blood to a hangover soup restaurant, where he realized that he had fallen into South Korea, eight years in the future.In this era, disaster alerts notify people of rift openings in advance, ASMR videos of slimes gathered from dungeons were trending, and idle hunters livestream unboxings of A-rank longswords.Unlike the past, where people trembled in fear of an impending apocalypse, the future was surprisingly peaceful, leaving Cha Eui-jae feeling empty. Since things had turned out this way, why not start a second chapter of life as a part-timer at the hangover soup restaurant, rather than being a hunter?“That’s strange.”“…”“Have we met somewhere before?”Cha Eui-jae’s plan to quietly spend his remaining days as the only part-time worker at the decades-old hangover soup restaurant goes awry when he encounters a mysterious, gas-masked individual…DISCLAIMER: The story isn't mine