A Stormy Marriage

On her half-sister Victoria's wedding day, 25-year-old nurse Lily Watson is forced to marry Dominic Castellano, a ruthless mafia king rumored to have murdered his last wife. When Victoria flees, Dominic's hitmen threaten Lily's family. To save them, Lily takes Victoria's place at the altar—only to become the bride of a man she fears may be a killer.

Aris has spent his life as the academy's lowest servant, cursed with blood that makes every dragon fear him. But when a drop of that blood hatches a legendary dragon egg, his life is turned upside down. Hunted by powerful enemies and burdened with a destiny he never asked for, Aris must uncover the truth before the world does.

Charlotte is a hardworking intern who never imagined her idol, superstar Freddy Jones, would fall for her. To keep his secret, Freddy disguises himself as an intern, standing by her side against jealous rivals and pulling her into a whirlwind romance she can’t resist.

At her daughter's one-month banquet, Shen Ruohan discovered her husband Zhou Yan's betrayal with her best friend Sun Qianqian—and that her own biological daughter had been killed by Sun Qianqian and secretly replaced with the child of Zhou Yan and Sun Qianqian. Shen Ruohan endured in silence, raised her enemies' daughter, and carefully planned her revenge. Years later, she revealed the truth publicly and made Zhou Yan and Sun Qianqian pay a heavy price.

I was once the Supreme Martial Artist, revered by tens of thousands. But now, I am merely a vagrant, scrounging for food with stray dogs in a street corner. The blood of a venomous serpent once granted me unparalleled divine power, yet my brother's poisoned wine cast me into the abyss. My memories were brutally excised, leaving only hunger and cold, and the faint, powerful illusions that felt alien to me. It was in the sixth month of my wandering. Filthy and disheveled, I caught a whiff of unease near an alley entrance. A few ruffians were cornering a woman in training attire—Lavina. She was beautiful, like a drawn sword, and her beauty had clearly drawn unwanted attention. I should have turned away, avoiding trouble as I usually did. But for some reason, a strange yet familiar fury ignited in my chest. My body acted before my mind, my grimy fists whistling through the air. The ruffians didn't even see my movements before they fell to the ground, howling. That power, that swiftness, felt alien even to me. Lavina's eyes held a hint of curiosity, a touch of admiration, and a flicker of... pity. She asked no questions, simply took my hand and led me back to the martial arts hall she managed with her father. The Master was an old man, his gaze as sharp as an eagle's, yet brimming with wisdom. He looked at me, shaking his head with a sigh, as if beholding a treasure covered in dust. "Your skill is extraordinary, yet you are consumed by amnesia. A pity," he pondered for a moment. "The hall needs an odd-job man. I'll provide food and shelter, but no pay." I nodded. It was the most generous offer I had heard in six months. At least, I would have a roof over my head, no longer having to fight dogs for scraps. A new life began, but danger stealthily drew near. While cleaning the martial arts hall one day, a familiar yet unfamiliar figure crashed into my awareness. He wore brand new training attire, his eyes sharp, yet upon seeing me, there was a flicker of undetectable panic and unease. Was he my... enemy? Or... family? I didn't know, but a primal chill ran down my spine. He was the brother I had personally cast into the abyss, now reappearing in my new life as a student. While wiping a dusty wall, my gaze inadvertently fell upon an ancient, treasured sword. It hung silently, a faded ribbon wrapped around its hilt. In that instant, a blinding white flash erupted in my mind: blades clashing, shadows dancing, flesh and blood flying... Was it my past? Or a future yet to be unearthed? I gripped the broom tightly, my fingertips ice-cold. Were forgotten powers and a fated enemy silently awakening, stirred by this very sword?

Belinda's voice, silken and alluring, brushed over the gleam of polished chrome. "How about this one? Someone of your distinguished caliber deserves nothing less than a top-tier ride." Nicholas, accustomed to such luxury, gave a subtle nod, accepting the flattery as his due. Hours later, however, the praise felt utterly hollow. Late that night, he lay curled in his cold bedroom, his wife Mina beside him. He spoke in a low voice, a subtle plea in his tone, almost a whisper of humility: "Darling, could I get a new electric scooter? I've had this one for five years." Mina didn't lift her head, focused on the bottles and jars on her dressing table, letting out a dismissive scoff: "You hardly ever go out, what do you need a new one for? Don't be so particular." His phone buzzed. Gillian's school calling. A parent-teacher conference. He'd forgotten. At the school, a teacher eyed him with a scrutinizing gaze. "Gillian's father is already here." Another teacher, Ms. Gao, added, "He's Gillian's *real* father. The gentleman who arrived earlier is Gillian's uncle." Nicholas's face instantly drained of color. He instinctively turned to leave, but Ms. Gao gently, yet firmly, blocked his path: "Today's meeting focuses on celebrating your daughter's essay, 'My Father.'" Nicholas stood there, rigid, watching Gillian approach the stage. Her young voice, clear and earnest, spoke of his endless patience, his warm companionship, and her wish for him never to leave. Every word, like a gentle knife, slowly carved out the image of the father he once prided himself on being. However, once the essay concluded, Gillian didn't walk towards him. Instead, she ran directly to "Uncle" Hank, who sat beside Mina, and hugged him tightly. Nicholas struggled to conjure a smile, but when Hank looked at him, his eyes holding a knowing, almost pitying expression, he asked nonchalantly: "Nicholas won't mind, will he, Nicholas?" In that instant, the smile utterly shattered, leaving behind only a forced facade, beneath which, a lifetime of accumulated regret silently wailed.