Here is the translation: Source: "This is the first time, isn't it bad?" "What are you thinking?" "I..." "Me?"
Here is the translation: Source: "This is the first time, isn't it bad?" "What are you thinking?" "I..." "Me?"
I was 22 years old, a senior in university, and I had always excelled academically. My goal was to pursue graduate studies. However, my mother had different plans. She believed that getting a university degree was enough for a girl and that I should get married while I was still young.
So, under her arrangements, I started going on virtual blind dates before even graduating, exposing me prematurely to the ups and downs of adult life.
To escape this situation, I decided to break free from my mother's control and support myself by working part-time and renting my own apartment.
After browsing through rental apps, I finally found a decent apartment. Although it was a three-person shared rental, the room available was on the top floor and, most importantly, it was located on campus.
Following the address, I arrived at the graduate student apartments. I had heard that graduate students often lived in mixed-gender dorms. The thought of it made me shiver.
I knocked rhythmically on the door of a standalone apartment, and it was opened by an upperclassman. To be specific, he was so strikingly handsome that I couldn't help but feel a rush of excitement from head to toe.
Seeing this eye-catching upperclassman in front of me, I couldn't help but swallow hard, wiping away the drool that that nearly slipped out. I feigned a gentle demeanor and said, "Hello, I'm here to rent a room." Then, as if on impulse, I raised my hand and slapped it against his chest.
The upperclassman stared at me for a few seconds, glanced down at his chest, and then turned his sharp gaze back at my face.
I awkwardly smiled, quickly retracting my hand as if it had been hit with a wave of excitement, and whispered, "Sir, your chest muscles are really firm."
He continued to stare at my face, expressionless but with piercing eyes. Just when I thought he was about to say something, he stepped aside slightly, allowing me to enter the apartment.
As soon as I entered, I looked around. The decor was simple yet comfortable and cozy.
Suddenly, a door opened, and a tall and handsome guy with a bright smile rushed out, wearing slippers, striding towards us.
I lowered my head, secretly delighted, wondering what kind of luck I had stumbled upon to end up in a den of charmers. This rental was worth every penny; I would be surrounded by handsome guys every day, living the dream.
The handsome guy who came out asked, "Who's this pretty lady?"
The upperclassman who opened the door raised an eyebrow, saying, "Your new roommate."
The tall guy then gave me a tour of the house, and I was very satisfied, promptly saying, "I'll move in tomorrow."
The upstairs bedroom had its own bathroom, and since the upperclassmen lived downstairs, there was no inconvenience. The rental arrangement was settled smoothly and happily.
The upperclassman who opened the door was named Mathew Davies, the president of the university's literary club, living in the main bedroom downstairs. The tall guy was Wesley Miller, the captain of the school basketball team, living in the downstairs side room.
At this moment, Wesley was holding my hand, enthusiastically introducing himself, "Mathew and I are best friends, both in our final year of grad school, and we're the dashing, wealthy bachelors everyone talks about."
I nodded frequently with an awkward yet polite smile, wondering if he was hinting at something.
Just as the atmosphere was becoming pleasant and friendly, Mathew glanced at Wesley and said coldly, "You talk too much." With that, he turned gracefully and walked away.
I couldn't help but marvel at how different the their personalities were.
Wait a minute... Mathew was the president of the literary club? If I moved in, did that mean my chances of joining the literary club were secured? As the saying went, the closer people were to the source, the greater the benefit. I must seize this chance.
So, I eagerly followed Mathew, flashed a sweet smile as I reached out and said, "Mathew, I'm Lilia Dawson from the Department of English. My articles have been quite popular on the campus forum recently. I look forward to your guidance in the future."
He saved her. He was her fated mate. Her king and her protector. Until a single ritual shattered everything. Now she's a Lycan queen with no memory of loving him... And all she feels is hatred. Will his obsession bring her back... or destroy them both?
Camille Lewis was the forgotten daughter, the unloved wife, the woman discarded like yesterday's news. Betrayed by her husband, cast aside by her own family, and left for dead by the sister who stole everything, she vanished without a trace. But the weak, naive Camille died the night her car was forced off that bridge. A year later, she returns as Camille Kane, richer, colder, and more powerful than anyone could have imagined. Armed with wealth, intelligence, and a hunger for vengeance, she is no longer the woman they once trampled on. She is the storm that will tear their world apart. Her ex-husband begs for forgiveness. Her sister's perfect life crumbles. Her parents regret the daughter they cast aside. But Camille didn't come back for apologies, she came back to watch them burn. But as her enemies fall at her feet, one question remains: when the revenge is over, what's left? A mysterious trillionaire Alexander Pierce steps into her path, offering something she thought she lost forever, a future. But can a woman built on ashes learn to love again? She rose from the fire to destroy those who betrayed her. Now, she must decide if she'll rule alone... or let someone melt the ice in her heart.
Sunlit hours found their affection glimmering, while moonlit nights ignited reckless desire. But when Brandon learned his beloved might last only half a year, he coolly handed Millie divorce papers, murmuring, "This is all for appearances; we'll get married again once she's calmed down." Millie, spine straight and cheeks dry, felt her pulse go hollow. The sham split grew permanent; she quietly ended their unborn child and stepped into a new beginning. Brandon unraveled, his car tearing down the street, unwilling to let go of the woman he'd discarded, pleading for her to look back just once.
Five years into marriage, Hannah caught Vincent slipping into a hotel with his first love-the woman he never forgot. The sight told her everything-he'd married her only for her resemblance to his true love. Hurt, she conned him into signing the divorce papers and, a month later, said, "Vincent, I'm done. May you two stay chained together." Red-eyed, he hugged her. "You came after me first." Her firm soon rocketed toward an IPO. At the launch, Vincent watched her clasp another man's hand. In the fitting room, he cornered her, tears burning in his eyes. "Is he really that perfect? Hannah, I'm sorry... marry me again."
A year into the marriage, Thea rushed home with radiant happiness-she was pregnant. Jerred barely glanced up. "She's back." The woman he'd never let go had returned, and he forgot he was a husband, spending every night at her hospital bed. Thea forced a smile. "Let's divorce." He snapped, "You're jealous of someone who's dying?" Because the woman was terminal, he excused every jab and made Thea endure. When love went cold, she left the papers and stormed off. He locked down the city and caught her at the airport, eyes red, dropping to his knees. "Honey, where are you going with our child?"
Hidden for years by the state despite a fortune worth billions, Grace bounced through three foster homes. At her fourth stop, the wealthy Holden family showered her with care, sparking spiteful claims she was a despicable grifter. Those lies died when a university president greeted her. "Professor, your lab's ready." A top CEO presented a folder. "Boss, our profits soared by 300% this year!" An international hacker organization came to her doorstep. "The financial market would crash without you!" Colton, a mysterious tycoon, pinned her softly. "Fun's over. Let's go make some babies." Grace's cheeks flared. "I didn't agree to that!" He slid a black card into her hand. "One island per baby."
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