BambooFirefly

[WSA 2024 Entry]
(I owe everyone 16 chapters TT I'll deliver them soon, hopefully.)

[The Imperial Consort could have been so much more than what we were shown.]

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Genius Neurosurgeon Lǐ Xīnyuàn died while being held at the gunpoint to perform a surgery on a terrorist leader.

When he opened his eyes, he had transmigrated into a world similar to a Webnovel he'd been forced to read by a colleague.

Now you'd think Lǐ Xīnyuàn had transmigrated into that Webnovel. But did he?

No! Instead he'd been transmigrated into that webnovel's spin-off/"what-if" version of the story with nothing but the superficial knowledge of the plot thanks to reading the main novel.

Now tasked with the mission of avoiding plotholes, unnecessary dog-blood, death and following the storyline to ensure the male lead's ascension to the throne of Supreme Emperor, he didn't know whether to laugh or cry.

And why did no one tell him that his character had to be married into the Male Lead's harem??

What about the Female Lead?

Later:

Lǐ Xīnyuàn: Why doesn't Your Highness spend the night with concubine Yang?

ML: Don't want to.

Lǐ Xīnyuàn: ... Why?

ML: Are you pushing me away?

Lǐ Xīnyuàn: QAQ

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100-150 PS= 1 extra chapter on Sunday 
25, 50, 75... Golden Tickets= 2 extra chapter on Sunday 
3-5 Gifts= 3 extra chapters (or more depending on the value of the gifts)

Reborn To Be The Imperial Consort [BL]

Warning: Semi-graphic torture (not really much), mild gore (if at all), minorrr character death

The ten-tailed fox raised his head, chin tilted up as he looked at the male with his eyes narrowed. The burning hatred in his eyes, the scathing fury, the animalistic urge to wrap his hand around the dragon's neck and just snap it.

All of it condensed into one single emotion.

"Not even going to stand to greet me?" He asked coldly, blood like crimson eyes flashing with an underlying feral light in them. "Or have you forgotten everything you did to me, dragon?"

The said dragon moved, shifting on his marvelous throne as he looked down at the ten-tailed fox in his eyes, the cold contempt in them unhidden.

Thalassotélos — XVII