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The Martin Edwards

Beijing-Hong Kong Memories

Liang Weining rose to become a 'favorite' of Mr. Chen, the capital magnate of the Hong Kong Region, in just six months. The outside world said she climbed up by her beauty. No matter how good a vase might look, it can't escape being discarded once the owner grows tired of it. As such, everyone watched and waited. After three long years, they finally received news of Liang Weining's dismissal. While the entire upper circle thought Liang Weining had become history, nobody knew that on the eve of New Year's Eve, an entertainment reporter captured a romantic moment. In a black business car parked underneath the Zhonggang headquarters building, the backseat window was half-lowered, and Mr. Chen, who was always dignified and composed, unexpectedly lost control. In the mottled shadows, he grabbed the chin of a young girl and kissed her fiercely. The photos were exposed that same night, and a heavy snow fell over the Eastern Suburbs of Beijing. Inside the Mid-hill Villa, the fireplace blazed warmly. The man took the girl's soft, boneless hand from behind and guided her to write on the Xuan paper: Chen Jingyuan. "When will we go public?" he asked in a low voice. As soon as he'd finished speaking, the mobile phone screen lit up. The exclusive breaking news headline from the Hong Kong media flashed before their eyes again, and Liang Weining fretted over the news title, "Let's wait a bit longer." Chen Jingyuan's voice was slightly deep, "What are you worried about?" "My dad's blood pressure has been unstable lately." Years later, Mr. Chen gave an interview to the media, addressing personal issues. Reporter: "For you, what was the biggest obstacle in pursuing Mrs. Chen back then?" Mr. Chen paused for a few seconds, then smiled lightly, "My father-in-law's blood pressure." - High-ranking man X female secretary | 90% sweet | 8 years older.
The question to the star · 101.2K Views

Chronicles of Verek

The skies had not always been so dark. The winds had not always howled with such ferocity, nor had the land known the curse of endless war. Yet on the day Varek was born, the heavens tore open as though they sought to swallow the world in flames. A tempest unlike any seen in centuries ravaged the land—a fury of lightning, rain, and earth-shattering winds, heralding the arrival of something... something that the old gods themselves feared. In the time before his birth, the seers had whispered of it, their eyes clouded with dread. The Chosen One—the Stormborn—would come, they said, carrying a blade forged in fire, one that would either bring salvation or doom. It was written in the stars, and no power in the world could change that. The prophecy spoke of the one who would stand against the tide of darkness and the coming of the Raven King, but the price of this power would be great. And so it was that when Varek was born, the winds howled, and the earth trembled, for the mark of ruin had been sealed upon him. The world wept that night, for no child should ever bear such a burden. Yet Varek did not weep. He knew not the weight of the world at that moment. But in the days that followed, the cost of his existence would become clear. The wolves of the north took him in after his mother’s death—a woman who had given her life to bring him into the world. His father—once a powerful warlord—was slain by those who had sworn to protect him. And so Varek was left to the wilderness, where the wolves raised him. They did not care for prophecy, fate, or the gods. They cared only for survival. Varek grew up wild, untamed, bound to the land, the forests, and the creatures who roamed them. His white hair—a mark of his birthright—stood out against the shadows of the wilderness, the color of frost and storm. He learned to hunt, to fight, and to survive in the harshest of conditions. But all the while, something inside him grew, something ancient and restless. The blade of his destiny, forged in the stars, had already begun to take shape. And it would not be denied.
Edwards_Libebe · 6K Views

The Saintess, The Villainess, and The Enchantress

In the heart of a vast and fertile land, nestled amidst rolling hills and lush meadows, stood the grand mansion of the De Lolce family. This stately home belonged to Duke Castel and Duchess Aerwyna, a couple whose reputation preceded them throughout the entire nation of Philippeldephia. Duke Castel was celebrated far and wide as the most brilliant scientist in the country, his mind teeming with discoveries that pushed the boundaries of what was possible. In contrast, Duchess Aerwyna was renowned for her culinary prowess, her dishes and baked goods the very definition of perfection, sought after by the elite of the land. Three years into their blissful marriage, their joy knew no bounds when Aerwyna gave birth to triplets. Yet, their happiness was cruelly snatched away when the babies, too weak to survive, passed away shortly after entering the world. The grief was unbearable, and neither Castel nor Aerwyna could reconcile with the tragedy that had befallen them. The halls of their mansion, once filled with dreams of a bright future, were now heavy with sorrow. But Duke Castel, a man driven by the relentless pursuit of knowledge, refused to accept fate’s verdict. One fateful night, he conceived a daring experiment—one that could defy the natural order and bring their children back from the brink of death. In the dim glow of his laboratory, surrounded by beakers and vials of mysterious substances, he worked tirelessly, driven by a desperate hope. Finally, the moment arrived. Castel was on the verge of success, his hands trembling with a mix of fear and anticipation. But in a single, fateful moment, as he reached for the final component, his hand accidentally knocked over a set of strange chemicals. The colorful liquids spilled across the lab table, seeping into the lifeless bodies of the three infants. In an instant, something extraordinary began to happen. The triplets, instead of merely returning to life, started to change. Their small forms absorbed the spilled concoction, and they became something... different. The experiment had gone awry, and the results were beyond anything Castel could have predicted. From that night onward, the De Lolce mansion became the stage for a series of unexpected events, as the once-ordinary lives of Castel and Aerwyna took a turn toward the extraordinary—all because of a single, accidental spill that altered the course of their family’s destiny. Note: This is more like a long script rather than a novel type.
ShananeShanane · 60.7K Views

MUTATE or BURN, I will DESTROY the WORLD!

A sickle lodged deep in his neck, cold steel biting through flesh. Voices murmured around him, debating his fate as blood poured in thick rivulets, staining the ground beneath him. His vision wavered, the world blurring at the edges. Fragments of memory surfaced, slipping through his grasp as darkness crept in. With faltering breath, he muttered a prayer. "Pitiful child," a voice crooned, its melody both soothing and unsettling. Then—screeching tires. A violent crash. From nowhere, a truck barreled through the alley, crushing him and his murderers beneath its weight. The world went silent. Kevin awoke. The question of where he was lingered in his mind, yet he could feel it. An eerie, suffocating void stretched around him, vast and oppressive. There was no warmth, no sound, only the weight of nothingness pressing down, as if his very soul could wither away. "Pitiful child," the voice whispered again, its presence weaving through the void. "Love evades you. Singled out, discarded, assumed to be nothing. No one would mourn your disappearance." A flicker of sadness crossed Kevin’s face. "But there is no redemption for you here either. You will serve as a tool for my adversary, fulfilling what I cannot. Your existence has granted me this moment, and in return, you will perish as you were always meant to. Your memories of this life and our encounter will fade" A hand emerged from the abyss, pale and grotesque, reaching for him. Kevin’s very being twisted. A sensation beyond pain, beyond fear—something worse. An unbearable pressure built inside him, warping his essence, as though he were unravelling, torn apart from within. Then came the rage. A lifetime of being used, manipulated, and discarded. Again and again, others had shaped his fate, moulding him to their will. Even now, even here, the cycle continued. No more. Through the agony, he roared. "I will not be what you want or what anyone wants. Even without my memories, I will hunt, I will devour, and I will carve my own path. It doesn’t matter if you are a god or the devil” The entity smiled. "I am no god. I am no devil. " Its voice echoed, a whisper and a thunderclap all at once. "I am A@#!@ro♧h!!"
Martin_Moorning · 4.4K Views
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