Monroe - Chapter Three Hundred and Eighty-Two. God Damn it.

Molitia Clemence was born sickly.

She forgot to cover herself with a blanket and caught a cold. She woke up next to her husband after 10 days just because of a slight cold.

Molitia barely survived between the thin threads of life and death. When she opened her eyes, she noticed that her husband was somehow acting differently than usual…?!

***

“Have you eaten?” (Husband)

“Yes.” (Molitia)

“This is the belly of a person who ate?” (Husband)

He frowned as he stroked her flat lower abdomen. He held her wrist carefully, as if it would break. His voice rose.

“Why is your wrist so thin? Are you even human?” (Husband)

“That’s…” (Molitia)

“Butler!” (Husband)

The butler rushed to his angry voice, fidgeting with his wrists.

“Get me food for my wife to eat. Something that will help her stay healthy. Anything is fine.” (Husband)

Molitia’s mouth opened at her husband’s words, but no sound came out. ‘I just had a meal?’

The journey of a generation’s male empress started because of four words.

“Send a dowry escort.”

During the 19th year of Yuanqing, Qi Yunruo boarded a carriage and entered through a corner door of the second prince’s estate. Then, across the watery corridor, he gazed at the prince from afar.

Notes:

For aristocratic women in imperial China to marry into a family part of the upper nobility, they must be of the legitimate line and must also have an escort/dowry maid that married into that family. That escort would be a “ying” (媵) and could be considered a concubine.

- Description from Novelupdates

To [Player]: This is the mystery of life, the journey of all things.You will become stronger, transform into superheroes, and possibly even touch the power of divinity. However, if you fail, death awaits you.For you have already stepped into the highest Sequence of the Evolution Game!“Isn't this making things difficult for Darwin?” Li Changhe muttered as he watched the [Player] arriving in the distance: “And giving Newton a hard time as well.”Fervent passion flows, don't spread hate if you dislike it

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.