Peerless Little Immortal Doctor - Chapter 485 : Strike to Kill!

Chen Muxue, the chef of Internet celebrity private kitchen, has transmigrated into a book, and has become the ultimate villain of the male fairy tale novel, and shot the male protagonist away with an iron pot as soon as he came.

Seeing the dilapidated sect and a group of picked up children waiting to be fed, Chen Muxue decided to eat before talking.

It’s just that I didn’t expect that this meal would last the whole summer…

One day, a man with a celestial spirit came over: “Master, is the sect in charge of food? If it is in charge of food, I am willing to worship inside the sect.”

Chen Muxue: “No problem, go plow the field!”

The next day, the entire cultivation world was shocked! Everyone began to test Qiandingmen one after another. No one knew why the great god of Xianmen, who had always been dressed in white, was willing to farm here…

- Description from novelbuddy

“At thirty, a rare age in the past, and when the King of Hell doesn’t summon you, you go of your own accord.”After his divorce, Lu Liang suddenly felt as though the dirt was already up to his neck, especially when he could hear the sound of a running memorial lantern.Until he discovered that it was a message from the future, and that’s when his life took a dramatic turn.…Living in this world, we are all mere mortals.Being a mortal isn’t so bad—greedy, lustful, cunning, selfish…

In the age of fragmented reading, the warm love life with healing power is well received by readers. Gu Weiyi, is warm, good at study, and handsome. He is tender, caring, good at cooking and can even warm the bed. It is the love life between Gu Weiyi and Momo. Gu tries all means to win Momo’s love, while Momo is slow in love.

- Description from Novelupdates

war, blood, and betrayal carved him into something else. A legend. A killer. A mercenary whose name struck fear into both criminals and so-called heroes alike.But now, the world had changed. Lines blurred between right and wrong, between justice and vengeance. Should he step into the light, wear the mask of a hero, and fight for a cause greater than himself? Or should he embrace the darkness that had always been his home, a place where morality was just another illusion?“Don’t box me in with your shallow ideas of good and evil,” he muttered, his voice calm but edged with danger. “I do what I want, when I want.”The air was thick with tension as he moved like a shadow through the dimly lit room. The writer had no time to react—one moment, he was scribbling nonsense about legends and myths; the next, a cold barrel pressed against the back of his head.The figure smirked beneath his mask, eyes gleaming with something between amusement and menace.“You wanna write fiction?” he whispered. “Then let me show you how real legends are made.”A single gunshot shattered the silence.As the writer’s body slumped over the desk, the man holstered his weapon, stepping into the faint glow of a flickering neon light.“It’s that simple,” he said, his voice unwavering. “I’m Deathstroke.”