The Regressor Can Make Them All - Chapter 283

Lao Li’s family finally gave birth to a girl! It’s a pity that we are on the road to escape…

Mrs. Li: What should I do? My baby has lumps and no milk to drink!

Jiayin spat out bubbles of saliva and waved her little hands: “Don’t be afraid, I have space, bring your own rations!” then…

Li Laosi: Mom, I picked up a dairy goat on the roadside!

Li Laosi’s wife: Mom, this rabbit hit the tree by itself!

Li Laosan: Mom, I went to fetch water, and the big fish jumped into the bucket!

Li Laosan’s wife: Mom, a handful of rice actually makes a pot of rice!

Mrs. Li’s head was buzzing. With the blessing of her ancestors, she was giving birth to a little lucky girl, who would prosper her family once she was born! As a result, when I turned around, there was a pile of dates, apples and pears on the kang…

Mrs. Li: “Wait a minute! Fu Niu’er, let grandma slow down. We have good things, but we have to take them out slowly!”

Li Jiayin: Hehehe

- Description from novelbuddy

Qin Zhaoyue, a hundred-year-old Soul cultivator and famous artifact refiner, dies and transmigrates into a body of 16-year-old Xi Zhaoyue, who was killed on her wedding day.

The unlucky previous owner of the body was an illegitimate daughter of an influential family and was forced to live her whole life in the orphanage. However, at the age of 16, her Guide glands were awakened and as fate willed it, Xi Zhaoyue happened to have the highest compatibility with the youngest, bravest, most handsome Major General of the Empire, a dream husband of the whole Outer Space! Finally, a loving family she so longed for was within her reach… Yet, at the wedding ceremony, her Mental sea was invaded and she died.

Once Zhaoyue figured out the situation she landed herself in, she vowed: she wouldn’t be a proud and self-respecting cultivator, if she didn’t strive for independence, for the right to live the life freely! Cultivate, refine, get stronger! Become your own person!

- Description from Novelupdates

Park Moonsoo worked REALLLLLLY hard in life before dying.

Three rejections. Three shattered dreams. That was Layla’s reality, all because she was different—a half-shifter in a world obsessed with purity. Ostracized, shunned, and finally sold off like a pawn to the most feared ruler alive—the Lycan King. He was ruthless, a king with a graveyard of brides, each one a ghostly reminder of a fate worse than death.Layla loathed him. Hated the way his gaze cold and fathomless, held no warmth for her. Hated how his touch, both thrilling and terrifying, sent an uninvited chill down her spine.---“I hate you!” I screamed, hands clenched so tight my knuckles ached.He sighed, a smirk curling at the edge of his lips, his tone mocking as he closed his book with a deliberate snap. “Stressed, are we?” he asked, strolling toward me, each step reminding me exactly who held the power here.“Lucky for you,” he drawled, rolling up his sleeves as he stopped just inches away, “I know exactly 70 ways to ease those nerves.” His fingers brushed my cheek, a touch that seemed to burn into my skin. “The first… a hug.” His voice dropped to a rough whisper as he leaned in, breath hot against my ear. “And the rest... well, that's 69? what do you say about that?”I swallowed hard, my heart thudding wildly as he tilted his head, waiting for me to react, that insufferable smirk still in place.“What’s the matter, darling?” he murmured, a taunt lingering in his gaze.---A Dangerous ObsessionCan she resist the pull, or will she dance into the flames of her own destruction?A dark dive into obsession, raw need, and the razor’s edge between desire and devastation.---LYCAN KING CASSIANI will tear her apart piece by piece, feeding the wildfire that grips her with each shuddered breath. Like air to flame, I’ll claim every inch, drawing heat from her skin until it sinks into her bones.Her pulse will race under my hands, her breaths shallow, pleading. Her eyes may scream, but her lips will still murmur my name. That first taste of fear will only feed something deeper—a need that burns through her veins, molten and fierce.And just when she’s too far gone to turn back, I’ll twist the knife, giving her the pain she’s learned to crave.She’ll be the moth to my flame, helpless against the very thing that will consume her.