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Fanqie catalogue

Books by 红薯绵绵

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From the Fanqie books we index, matched on the author's name.

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  1. Face-Slapping the Fake Miaojiang Saintess Who Stole My Gu Worms 打脸偷我蛊虫的假苗疆圣女 9k WordsCompleted The day before the selection of the Miaojiang Saintess, I gave up my right to compete, went into the mountains, and began a secluded retreat. The village chief stood before the cave entrance I had sealed with stones, demanding to know why I was going into seclusion at a time like this. Meanwhile, I was removing my last silver hairpin before leaping into the Pit of Ten Thousand Snakes. In my previous life, to become the Miaojiang Saintess, I fed my heart’s blood to my gu worms day and night. 2.9kReads—Score—Shelves
  2. The On-Screen Comments Told Me to Keep Quiet 弹幕让我别说话 9k WordsCompleted At midnight, my roommate shook me awake. Her voice was full of fear. "Xiaoxiao, don't make a sound. There's a murderer in the dorm." I nervously scanned the dorm, but saw no suspicious figure. The room was cramped, with nowhere for anyone to hide. I pushed her away, growing a little impatient. "Is this kind of joke really funny in the middle of the night?" But the next moment, several lines of scrolling comments drifted before my eyes. [Don't make a sound! The murderer in the dorm is abo 1.9kReads—Score—Shelves
  3. The Nanny Worked as a Mistress to Marry into a Rich Family, but My Husband Is the Son-In-Law 保姆为嫁豪门当小三,可我老公是赘婿 8k WordsCompleted The new nanny insisted on eating hot pot despite my morning sickness. I looked at the pot of red soup and put down my chopsticks with a cold face. The nanny looked aggrieved. When the son saw it, he yelled loudly. "I want to eat hot pot! I don't want a mother like you! I want sister Wanwan to be my mother!" I looked at the nanny in front of me who was wearing a low-cut top and delicate makeup. Turns out she wanted to be a hostess. Okay, I want to see if this family can live the good life they ha 182Reads—Score—Shelves
  4. My Sister's Deadly Last Words 妹妹的致命遗言 9k WordsCompleted After my younger sister killed herself, she left behind one final message. Everyone who read it died. First it was Grandma, then my father, and finally my mother leapt from a thirty-story building. Reporters fought tooth and nail to interview me. The police interrogated me through the night. Countless people wanted to know what the message said. I remained silent. Until the tenth anniversary of my sister’s death, when I saw a figure standing before her gravestone. In that moment, I was ov 143Reads—Score—Shelves