MTL - Rebirth of a Movie Star - Chapter 3 White Rabbit

Mu Xiaoya lived for twenty-six years before she knew that she had a sudden genetic disease. There was no medicine for it, and there was only death waiting for her.

Before she died, many people came to see her, but she was most impressed by Bai Chuan.

Bai Chuan was her neighbor, an autistic child with scholar’s syndrome. At that time, his face full of scars was desperate: “I – I studied all your medical records, but I have no way to save you.”

Mu Xiaoya was stunned: “You are a doctor?”

Bai Chuan: “I am not… …”

Mu Xiaoya’s disease was a genetic disease. Unless the gene was changed, there was no possibility of cure. However, Bai Chuan was the only person who tried to cure her after she fell ill.

Mu Xiaoya: “Why are you going to cure me?”

Bai Chuan: “I want to marry you.”

Mu Xiaoya laughed: “If you marry me, you will soon become a widower.”

Bai Chuan insisted: “I – I want to marry you.”

Bai Chuan, who has cognitive impairments, can’t express his meaning very well, and can only repeat it over and over again.

Later, Mu Xiaoya still died. When she woke up, she returned to the summer of her college graduation.

Bai Chuan: “I… I want to marry you.”

Mu Xiaoya: “Good.”

The starlight in the eyes of Bai Chuan was the most beautiful scenery that Mu Xiaoya had ever seen in her life.

- Description from Novelupdates

After dying from betrayal, Thomas reincarnates as Jolthar Kaelzhar, the neglected son of a powerful clan, just after his brothers kill him. With Jolthar's memories and the blessing of Qalena, Thomas vows to rise from his lowly position and claim power in his new life.

Every novel has a slag character, the one who decides to abandon the protagonist at his lowest, most helpless point, either because he can’t stand the poor guy’s circumstances or for other reasons. But after the protagonist wins his way in life again, they’re the ones who beg with broken sobs to be taken back.

Still, water once spilled can’t be recovered again.

Yet the unlucky Shen Jiayan has been bound to a Water Recovery* System to do just that.

*water recovery – comes from an idiom that means “spilled water can’t be recovered” (English equivalent: there’s no use crying over spilt milk).

- Description from Novelupdates

In a world where Lycans and werewolves are sworn enemies, Eve Valmont is a werewolf cursed by a prophecy and framed. Betrayed by her own pack and imprisoned for years, her fate takes a darker twist when she is offered to the Lycan King, Hades Stavros—a ruler feared for his ruthless conquests and deadly prowess. Bound by an ancient prophecy and haunted by the ghosts of her past, Eve is now at the mercy of the one being she should hate and fear the most—The Hand of Death himself.Hades, a king carved from blood and his own soul's decay, determined to avenge his family's slaughter and rid his people of the werewolves. He believes Eve is the key to his victory. To him, she is nothing but weapon foretold by prophecy, a tool he will wield to destroy the opposing forces threatening his pack. Yet, he finds himself craving this powerful yet broken woman. Leaving him questioning if she is truly his weapon or the one destined to unravel his carefully laid plans.***He stalked toward me, a predator closing in on its prey, his eyes dark and unreadable. “So, you laugh?” His voice was low, dangerously soft, making the hairs on the back of my neck stand up.I swallowed hard, suddenly aware of how difficult it had become to breathe. “Hades, I—”“But you only laugh at other men's jokes,” he interrupted, his gaze piercing, devoid of any humor. “Not your husband's.” The accusation in his tone was sharp, slicing through the air between us.A nervous chuckle escaped me. “You can't be serious... He’s your beta, for Goddess’ sake.”In an instant, he closed the distance between us, so fast it left me breathless. His hands gripped my waist, pulling me flush against his body, the heat of him making my skin tingle. I gasped, but before I could say a word, his lips crashed onto mine, claiming my mouth with a force that sent shockwaves through me. The kiss was punishing, hungry—I couldn't breathe, couldn't think.When he finally pulled back, I was trembling, my chest heaving as I struggled to regain my breath. His eyes, dark and stormy, searched mine with a possessive intensity. “You can’t laugh at my jokes...” he whispered, his voice a dangerous rasp as his fingers trailed lower, sending a shiver down my spine, “but you’ll come with my fingers.”I shivered, heat pooling low in my belly at his words, his touch. The world around us blurred, fading into nothing as his hand slipped lower, drawing a ragged gasp from my lips. The look in his eyes told me he knew exactly what he was doing to me, and there was no denying the primal connection between us in that moment.“I don’t need your laughter,” he murmured against my skin, his breath hot on my neck. “I’ll have every other part of you instead.”