Fanqie catalogue
Books by 不会写作的摄影师
- Matches
- 4
Fanqie books matched on the author's name.
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The Bones of Poverty 穷骨
Chu Qiong was born in a factory and raised on an assembly line, spending his whole life sticking labels on phone cases. He had no spiritual roots, no talent, and no connections. All he had was a peanut candy from an auntie. Then he transmigrated, carrying the candy's flavor with him to another world. In that world, everyone wanted to grow stronger, become an immortal, and have more. Only Chu Qiong said one thing: "Enough." Those words, "Enough," changed everything.
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She Called Me 217 Times Before She Died 她死前给我打了217个电话
Before she died, she called me 217 times. I didn't answer a single one. Three days later, I saw her phone at the funeral home: 217 missed calls, all to “Big Brother.” She left me scheduled text messages, a white shirt two sizes too big, an unfinished scarf, and a diary filled with 101 apologies. She said, “A little oversized, like someone’s hugging you.” She said, “Brother, you look best when you smile.” She said, “Let’s talk tomorrow.” But she never got another tomorrow. I put on her shirt, lea
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Reborn, I Became My Ex-Husband’s Biggest Hater 我重生后成了前夫的头号黑粉
In her previous life, Shen Mian gave away her entire fortune and sold her dowry for the sake of the scumbag Chen Xu, only to be pushed into the sea in the end. As she lay dying, she saw Fu Hanzhou, the husband she had never once given a proper look, covered in blood as he crawled out of a wrecked car, holding up the pearl earring she had pawned. Reborn on the first day of their marriage, Shen Mian looked at the man buttoning his shirt beside the bed, rushed over, and hugged him. “Don’t go out to
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War God in the Mirror: She Conquers Women’s Fiction With Men’s-Fiction Tactics 镜中战神：她用男频手段横扫女频
Lin Zheng receives three “gifts” at once: a diagnosis of terminal illness, a wedding invitation for her fiancé and cousin, and a family group chat message tagging her to pressure her into donating bone marrow. In everyone’s eyes, she is the “foil” who should be sacrificed and know her place. In a hospital room like a funeral chamber, she gazes at her pale reflection and smiles. “Great. A female-audience hellish start from the start, huh?” “Then don’t blame me for using a male-audience approach t
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