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Zhao Youyue was always highly passionate and friendly to writers she valued. In this case, the person before her would most definitely produce another icon, not to mention that the person just so happened to be her senior. Thus, she cordially invited Professor Chen to dine with her.


Chen Chen was equally willing to get closer to Lady Zhao. She may be the rare breed of writer who turned an eye away from worldly success, but she was not altogethe ...

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Right after getting the first-class chef’s certificate and before that certificate had been in her hands long enough to warm up, she woke up. Not only did she age ten years, she also gained two children…

At this time, her new daughter, who had lost two of her front baby teeth and spoke with a lisp, pointed at the TV screen and called out, “Dad!”

On the screen, the Film Emperor Meng Yan was extremely handsome and charming. Towards the camera, his gaze was overflowing with gentle and tender feelings. He raised up the hand that was holding hands with captivatingly beautiful bride. She was wearing a diamond-beaded wedding dress. At the bottom of the TV screen, the headline news was displayed in large font – Meng Yan and the rising starlet’s wedding of the century.

T/N: The second part of the summary is misleading. This isn’t a novel where the transmigrated main character clings onto the film emperor’s thigh.

MTL - I’ve Transmigrated Into This Movie BeforeChapter 176 Fanwai Lantern Night Talk [Next]
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– Question: “What is scarier than the personal experience of transmigrating into a horror movie?”

Anonymous: “Transmigrating into a movie you’ve never seen before.”

– “Poor comment! There’s nothing scary about that!”

Anonymous reply: “You sure? Can you be sure your dad isn’t a murderer? Can you be certain your spouse isn’t out to kill you for insurance money? Can you even be certain there isn’t any hidden lethal weapon in your son’s lunchbox? The scariest thing is that you have never seen this movie before so, you have absolutely no idea of any ‘surprise’ that awaits you ahead!”

Hence, this novel is also called .

A line to sum it up: The female lead transmigrates into various movie adaptations of real stories, and conquers the audience.

- Description from Novelupdates

MTL - Immortal Executioner (Zhanxian)Chapter 1330 Your world (below)
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Gripes have their origins and debts have their creditors. We haven’t crossed each other in days past or present, nor formed any grudges. I am but duty-bound to carry this out, so apologies in advance!

In his past life, Yang Chen was a gentle person who was oppressed for his whole life.

Now that he’s reborn, he chose to become an executioner and severs ties and grudges with his executioner’s blade, killing all that climb onto the Immortal Executioner’s Platform!

Heads will roll! Humans’ in the human realm, demons’ in the demon realm, devils’ in the devil realm and immortals’ in the immortal realm!

- Description from novelupdates

THE DEATH KNELLChapter 67: War of God’s and Shadows
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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.”