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Every Fanqie book we index, searchable by title, author or tag.
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Fission Tianbao Zonghenglu in the Prosperous Age
"I reported the truth, what crime did you commit?" Yang Shen frowned and did not give in. "What I am impeaching is unclear accounting and excessive consumption! Prime Minister Chen blocked the right and left, and defended it in every possible way. Could it be... Is there something hidden in it that I am afraid people will know?!" "You!" Chen Xilie was so angry that his beard was trembling, pointing at Yang Shenjin, and was speechless for a moment. "Enough!" On the throne, Xuanzong finally spoke.
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The Truth Behind the Scenes
A man wearing a well-tailored dark gray suit and gold-rimmed glasses stood in front of her, his expression one of stylized calm. He handed over a stiff business card and a thin kraft paper document bag. "Miss Lin Wan?" His voice was as smooth as his expression, "My surname is Chen, and I am Mr. Gu Zeshen's special assistant. Mr. Gu has a proposal that may be able to solve your current predicament." Lin Wan didn't answer, just stared at him, unable to make a sound from her dry throat. Assistant C
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Those Who Go Against the Current, When History Becomes a Protected Faith
Darkness enveloped the temporarily peaceful river embankment. In the temporary shack, Chen Yu used a dim oil lamp and used blackened wood branches to draw a schematic diagram of the "section-by-section embankment consolidation method" on rough paper. The scrape on his arm hurt, but he didn't care. There were footsteps outside the shed, not the heavy shuffling of a civilian husband. Chen Yu raised his head alertly. The curtain was opened, and a few people wearing ordinary business clothes, but un
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Returning to the Workplace, I Am a Top Product Manager
Lin Wanxing's heart beat wildly. She sat up suddenly and looked down at her hands. The hands were slender and white, and the nails were neatly manicured. There were no scars from the car accident or calluses left by long-term late nights and overtime work. She subconsciously touched her cheek. It was smooth and firm, with the collagen of a young man, not the haggard and withered look she had before her death. She took out her phone from her pocket tremblingly, and the screen lit up, showing the
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The Whispers of the Wind Are Like Blades, the Spy's Heart Is Like Iron
Evan's breath paused imperceptibly. The recorder immediately looked up, the tip of his pen hovering. In the shadow, the figure standing against the wall moved slightly - it was "Shadow", he always stood there, like a breathing stone. "The wear marks on the well rope," Evan continued, his voice calm, "are mainly concentrated at the three o'clock position on the east side, and the wear depth is about one knuckle, which indicates that heavy objects have been lifted and lowered frequently recently,
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