Download Chereads APP
Chereads App StoreGoogle Play
Chereads

Dune Fish Speaker

Senseless [Golden Gemini]

We became what the eyes see us as. Not us. Not real. *** "Try this." Yuki lifted his gaze to see a fish ball skewered on a stick, held close to his mouth. The hand offering it belonged to none other than the striking stranger standing beside him. He wore a blue and white uniform, a black bag slung over one shoulder. Yuki’s eyes landed on the stranger’s face again. Even now, he still wasn’t used to seeing someone like him—a face that seemed completely out of place in their small, ordinary town. There was no doubt he was an outsider. "Yuki." Yuki was startled when the stranger moved the skewer even closer to his lips. He could smell the warm, spicy sauce, and without thinking, he quickly flicked his tongue over it. His brows furrowed in surprise—it was unexpectedly delicious. Instead of reprimanding the stranger, he found himself praising him. "Mm, this is good!" He opened his mouth to take a bite of the fish ball—only for it to vanish into thin air. "Huh?" Confused, he looked up, but the stranger was already busy selecting more street food. Yuki’s cheeks suddenly burned, and with clenched fists, he moved closer to him. "What’s your problem?" Even the elderly vendor glanced at them, observing how the stranger completely ignored Yuki. His face flushed with frustration, as if ready to pick a fight. The vendor quickly intervened. "Alright, alright, no fighting! Son, just choose what you want." He nudged Yuki toward the food stall. "No, thank you." Yuki muttered before walking away from the kiosk. The old vendor watched him leave, staring in silence until he disappeared from sight. "One more order of that, please. And make it to-go." The stranger finally spoke. "Ah, sure, son." When the vendor handed him the food, the young man left without another word. Hands in his pockets, he walked in the same direction Yuki had gone, the plastic bag of fish balls dangling from his fingers. The vendor sighed and sat down, shaking his head. "Kids these days." ©2025
GoldenGemini · 1.1K Views

Return to 1980: A Second Chance at Happiness

Deng Shirong was reborn, waking up in the summer of 1980. In his past life, he had foolishly trusted a matchmaker’s words, only to see his children’s marriages turn into disasters. His two sons-in-law were utterly useless, and his daughters-in-law wreaked havoc in the household. This time, he wasn’t leaving anything to chance. He would personally take the reins and handpick the perfect partners for his children. Years later, during a gathering with old friends, the topic of conversation turned to their daughters-in-law—were they filial or not? Deng Shirong didn’t say a word. Instead, with a calm smile, he took out his phone and posted a simple message on WeChat Moments: “Suddenly craving some Guilin beer fish.” The next moment, his phone started blowing up. Eldest daughter-in-law: “Dad, I’ll drive back this Saturday and take you on a trip to Guilin. I’ve been craving authentic beer fish too!” Second daughter-in-law: “Dad, I’m free right now. I’ll drive back immediately to pick you up. Let’s go enjoy Guilin for a few days!” Third daughter-in-law: “Dad, I have some work to wrap up at the office, but I’ll send the driver to pick you up first…” Fourth daughter-in-law: “…” Youngest daughter-in-law: “…” His old friends sat there in stunned silence, their jaws practically hitting the floor. Their faces were filled with envy! Patreon for Extra Chapters: https://www.patreon.com/collection/1354252/
OrbTranslations · 12.6K Views

Ash Runner

In the Ashen Reach, a cursed wasteland of black dunes and ember-storms, Torv “Ash” Kren runs alone, hauling glowing ember-shards in a battered sled. Once a raider, he quit when his crew torched innocence—now he trades magic fuel for water, machete chipped, coat patched, one job from death. An ember-storm cracks his sled—shards spill—when Lysa “Ember” Vey stumbles from the haze, half-dead, clutching a red-hot Core Ember worth a fortune or a grave. Lysa’s an ash-witch—bends shards into fire-blades, hunted by warlord Krax for a 10,000-shard bounty. She offers Torv 2,000 to run her to the Free Drift, rebel camp past the Dune Wall—or leave him dry in the sand. Torv’s gut says ditch her—warlord’s hounds close—but her ember buys time, and his Ash Runner Sense wakes: kills earn miles, power grows. They trek—raiders bleed, storms burn—Torv’s machete sings (+500 miles, Dune Dash), Lysa’s fire cuts deep. Krax’s dogs tear closer—ember-teeth glint—when the Core cracks, whispering: “Free me, claim all.” Truth hits: Lysa’s bounty’s fake—Krax wants the Core that cursed the Reach. Torv’s past crew died for it—he’s bound to the ash. Miles climb (Ash Veil, 1,000)—lungs scar, Lysa’s shard burns her grip. At the Dune Wall, Krax looms—Torv carves, Lysa flares—Core shatters, Reach shakes. Warlord falls—shards rain—but Torv’s ash-coated, Lysa’s bleeding. A new ember glows west—next run calls. Grind, fire, survival—will Torv and Lysa outrun the curse, or burn in it?
Javu_Anele · 956 Views
Related Topics
More