MTL - The A in the Opposite Dorm Always Thinks I’m Pretending to be a B - Chapter 22 22nd

The romance between young Ronan Silverback and his fated mate Lucien Clearwater ended before it had the chance to bloom. Since they were both in line to become Alphas of their packs and neither of them was willing to step back to be with each other, Ronan ended up rejecting Lucien and ending their fated mate connection.

Seven years later, Alpha Ronan Silverback happened to meet Lucien Clearwater again. The latter not only was not the Alpha of his pack, but he also ended up accepting the affection of the Alpha of Ronan’s rival pack.

“We have broken up,” Lucien reminded Ronan. “Seven years ago, if you recall.”

“You are mine, Lucien Clearwater,” Ronan declared with a husky voice. “In this life or any life, you can only be mine. I will not let anyone else touch you.”

Warning : Mature content, genre-typical violence and sexual content. There is a mention of miscarriage. A lot of drama. Naturally it will end in a Happy Ending.

What if you met a teacher who was once a surgeon? When you were thirteen years old, both his and your mother were being rescued in the same hospital. However, six to seven years later, he can no longer hear any sound and unable to work in the surgery theatre anymore. Holding a book, he has become an ordinary university lecturer.

What if he is the same as you – abandoned by his mother, and a father who he can’t talk about?

What if he lost his health because he tried to save the nation?

What if, he loves you?

Can you bear not to love him?

“To have Ping Sheng in your life, life has no regrets.”

The boundless universe is full of many wonders.

I, Chen Ping, only have one sword!

I can move mountains, overturn the seas upside down, suppress demons, slap the face of gods, pluck the stars, break rivers, destroy cities, and… open the heavenly abode!

***

The Midland world was full of wonders.

In the center of the world, there was a scholar who had once used a sword to slash out a waterfall of the Milky Way. This was the person he was the most proud of.

At the edge of East Sea’s cliffs, there was a nameless Daoist who was unwilling to ascend to the peak of a mountain. He only wished for a cool breeze to brush against his face.

In the Western Pure Land, there was an old monk who liked to treat people to chicken soup and tell stories.

In the southern border of the Wilderness, there was a blind painter who controlled golden-armored puppets that were as tall as mountains to move the hundred thousand mountains, creating an embroidered picture.

A impoverished youth who grew up in the north. One day, he saw tens of thousands of Sword Kinesis Immortals above him, like a swarm of locusts crossing the border.

He wanted to see for himself the scholar that the storyteller had mentioned, the surging tides of the East Sea, the vast swamps of sand in the west, and the majestic mountains of the Southern Wasteland.

Thus, one day, the youth picked up the wooden sword and began to descend south.

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