Secretly Mine - Chapter 153: Searching for Her [Christian POV]

“The biggest blessing in my life was meeting you. The greatest misfortune was hurting you.” — Ye FeimoOn the night she finally confessed her feelings, Wen Nuan entered the wrong hotel room—and woke up in the arms of a stranger.Drunk, confused, and heartbroken, she never expected that one night to bind her to the ruthless and enigmatic CEO, Ye Feimo.To find her, he boldly posted a half-naked ad of her across the city. To own her, he made her sign a contract as his substitute lover.She thought it was love. He only saw her as a stand-in.When the woman he truly loved returned, Wen Nuan vanished without a trace.But it was already too late.Ye Feimo finally realized that the only woman he truly loved... was the one he let go.

Mum ran away, dad’s crippled, and I’m about to be sold to a brothel.

Qiao Xiaomai rolled up her sleeves in anger: If you’ve taken from me, regurgitate it.

If you’ve seized what’s mine, return it.

All scumbags, clear off.

A certain man finished tidying up the mess, rolled up his sleeves and pulled Qiao Xiaomai into a light laugh: “My lady, if you’re this fiery and domineering at night, your husband…”

Qiao Xiaomai raised an eyebrow, patted the spot next to her: “My dear, come warm the bed~”

……………………………………………………………

Dear readers! Without any ads, maybe you will prefer .

In countless worlds, mysterious doors appear, leading to an ordinary-looking convenience store. That is, until you see who’s inside.An immortal cultivator ponders over instant noodles flavor, an ancient demon sips a cola, and a primordial beast carefully holds a bag of potato chips. Beings who could shake the heavens stand quietly in line, waiting their turn.At the counter, a young man scans their purchases. No one knows where he came from, but all understand one thing. In this store, rules must be followed.Welcome to the Dimensional Convenience Store, where even the greatest existences must check the price before they buy.

In a world of shallow-minded, materialistic mortals, what would one from humble beginnings – whose face had been stomped on, spat on, oppressed for the longest while by the arrogant, pampered upper echelons of society – do, when a mysterious application pops up on a brand new phone that was meant to be the birthday gift of an ungrateful girlfriend? What if the application takes the form of a chatroom where its occupants, bearing the names of mythical, fictional beings, start giving out ‘Red Packets’, all the while spouting nonsense?