Mint Cool Summer

[The female lead in this story is explosive, the male lead is arrogant, there's a mountain of dog food (sweet moments), and it's a story full of slag-abusing and monster-fighting, with a double dose of pampering joy.]
Ye Jiuliang was naturally cold and ruthless, with a fierce and wild approach to life. To the Ye Family, she was a calamitous lone star, and to the onlooking crowd, she was "Ninth Master".
It was said, no one was more arrogant than Ye Jiuliang; if she was second, no one claimed the first place.
Irritatingly, in the eyes of Li Mochan, she was his little wolf cub, the little rascal that he, Li Mochan, intended to pamper to the skies.
In the capital, it was widely rumored that the Li Family's Crown Prince could reduce people to ashes with just one look.
And yet, this precious and aloof figure was actually teased by Ye Jiuliang, and it seemed even... blushed.
**
Upon returning from a business trip, Li Wuye cornered her in a dim stairwell, his fingertips sliding over her porcelain white neck, "How many little brothers are there?"
Meeting his dark gaze, Ye Jiuliang arched an eyebrow, "Is Li Wuye in the mood to beat someone up?"
"So what if I am?" Li Mochan narrowed his eyes slightly, "Feeling pity?"
Ye Jiuliang held back a laugh and nodded, "The little brothers can't take a hit, can you go easy on them?"
[In the private room where Xiang Tian and others were singing their hearts out, they inexplicably felt a chill running down their spines.]
Li Mochan buried his face in her shoulder and spat out fiercely, "I cannot."
Those who dare to flirt with his wolf cub deserved a ruthless beating.

The Lady of the Prestigious Family is a Big Boss

"Here," Li Mochan shoved a champagne glass into his hand and turned to walk towards the terrace without saying a word.


Jiang Yisheng looked down at the glass in his hand and couldn't help but chuckle.


"Why did Ahan leave?" After exchanging pleasantries with a corporation president, Feng Yi turned his head only to see Li Mochan's retreating figure.


Jiang Yisheng whispered in his ear, and Feng Yi burst into laughter.


He had really hit the nail on the head.


The man's tall figure was half-immersed in the shadowy light, and a gust of evening wind lifted the hair on his forehead.


Those deep and frosty eyes, unlike their usual calm tracelessness, vaguely showed a hint of annoyance, a touch of forlornness.


Did you know it was my birthday banquet today and still refuse to come?


The cold wind was biting, stinging the cheeks.


037, Respect to our King