MTL - The Decade of Deep Love - Chapter 44

Qin Shi saved a child and died. The system gave her three rebirth choices.

1. Transmigrate to the ’60s to be another family’s daughter-in-law.
2. Transmigrate to the ’70s to be an educated youth in the countryside.
3. Transmigrate to the ’80s to be a “stepmother” of three babies.

Qin Shi decisively chose 3. She really can not bear the hardships of the ’60s and ’70s.

At the blind date, Lu Zetian looked serious: “If you don’t want to, I don’t want to drag you down.”

Qin Shi: “I understand.”

Before Lu Zetian could relax his expression, he heard the other party speak again.

“You need someone to take care of the children. I need you to take me out of here. We can get married by agreement.”

“My task is to seriously support and educate the three children to grow up, take care of your food, drink and life, and play the loving husband and wife outside when necessary.”

“And you only need to pay for all the expenses of the family and my salary. Of course, I will give you the account book to ensure that the account is clear and not fake.”

Lu Zetian: “…?”

The three children of the Lu family heard that if they were going to have a stepmother they would not have enough food and clothing, or even be abused.

They made up their minds to show their stepmother that they were not easy to bully.

As a result, the stepmother saluted them seriously as soon as she entered the door, and then gave courtesy in front of them.

“Hello, my name is Qin Shi. I will take care of your daily life in the future. I swear to the chairman that I will treat you fairly, justly and openly. I hope you can cooperate with me and we will live well together.”

Lu family’s 3 children was shocked: ⊙ ﹏ ⊙!?

- Description from Novelupdates

The crumbling Vienna System is unable to stop the rise of the Second Empire, as the Emperor's nephew is about to visit his faithful Paris.Protector of the Apennine, Honorary Chairman of the Rhine Federation, Close Ally of the Kingdom of Spain, French Empire Augustus Jerome Bonaparte:I will make France great again!--------------------(Reasonable historical deduction party, Paradox Interactive game players rejoice!)

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.