After Rebirth, Mrs. He Dotes On Her Husband - Chapter 509 - : The Sweetness God Gifted to Me

One morning, after being bound to the system, MC started his routine of always being captured/ attacked by the ML.

Coincidentally, indoorsy-guy Zhang Yang went to the cultivation world, being the lowest level of zombie. By using a manual book named: “ Tai Yin Refining Figures”, Zhang Yang find his own way to success and leaves a “If a zombie knows how to use a manual, nobody can stop it “ legend in the world.

- Description from Novelupdates

Yu Yi found herself transmigrated into a female protagonist in a xianxia novel, destined to suffer both physically and emotionally.The entire novel was 800,000 words long. For 700,000 words, she endured extreme torment. In the remaining 100,000 words, the heroine reconciled with her past, found true love without regrets, and achieved a happy ending with the male lead.Yu Yi absolutely refused to be this pitiful scapegoat.To avoid the main plot, she adhered to the basic principle of “where he is, I am not; where I am, he is not.” She laid low in her sect, dodging every opportunity to encounter the male lead.Five years passed, and she finally severed this ill-fated connection.The male lead married someone else. Yu Yi let out three wild laughs as she stepped out of the sect gates, happily rushing towards the colorful world outside.However, she didn’t expect that in her excessive joy, she would accidentally stumble upon the mu*der scene of the main villain.Yu Yi hid in the bushes, watching Xue Chenjing, dressed in white robes now stained with blood, slowly crushing someone’s skull. She was so terrified she didn’t dare to breathe.In the dead silence, a noisy voice suddenly rang out: [Master, look quick! It’s your wife! Your wife has finally come online. Isn’t she adorable, curled up and hiding in the bushes like that?]Yu Yi was shocked: Surely it can’t be referring to me?[She’s even wearing a red dress, matching couple outfits with you.]Yu Yi clutched her pomegranate-red skirt tightly, glancing at the hem of Xue Chenjing’s robe. What couple outfit? Isn’t that just stained red with blood?Xue Chenjing flicked the blood from his fingertips, his gaze sweeping towards the bushes. He asked in bewilderment, “Whose wife?”The system pulled out a masterpiece of literature, tapping the cover and asserting confidently: [Your wife.]

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.