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Every Fanqie book we index, searchable by title, author or tag.
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The Good-For-Nothing Princess Was Forced by the Demon Lord to Change the Script
The moment I regained consciousness, I felt a biting coldness. From ankle to wrist, heavy iron chains locked me to the cold stone pillar. The tattered palace clothes I wore could not block the cold air of the dungeon. Rats scurried around my feet, and the air was filled with the smell of mold and blood. "Click." The cell door was pushed open from the outside. I looked up and saw a man walking in against the light. He was very tall, with cascading black hair, and a pair of blood-red eyes that wer
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The Lame King Pretended to Be Disabled, but the System Maid Was Captured Instead
When the cold medicine bowl touched my fingertips, a flash of lightning flashed outside the window. The thunder exploded, just like the alarm sound when the heart rate monitor on the operating table became a straight line. I gripped the porcelain bowl tightly, my nails digging into the indentations on the edge of the bowl. Three days have passed since I died suddenly in modern times, was hit in the brain by this damn system, and then became the Gu family's substitute maid as soon as I opened my
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This Devil Is Very Powerful
The dust danced in the afternoon sun. I pinched my nose and stuffed the last "Unsolved Mysteries of the World" back on the bookshelf. The librarian sounds very artistic, but is actually a humanoid vacuum cleaner and book mover. Facing these yellowed pages every day, as well as the old men and women who occasionally come to borrow books, my life feels like soaking in warm water, not hot, but boring. What I want is simple: a job that can make a living, an environment where I don't have to deal wit
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Street Stall God of War: Ex-Wife Begs for Longevity Film
It was four o'clock in the morning under the overpass, and the wind was a bit cool. I spread a rag on the ground, sat down cross-legged, took out ten boxes of facial masks from the plastic bag, and coded the boxes one by one. The packaging is very simple, just an ordinary white carton with the words "Handmade by Xiao" printed on it. I wrote the words myself with a brush, and they were crooked like a dog crawling. It's not that you can't afford to print beautiful packaging boxes. I really don't w
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Qingwu Notes
In June, the sun is like a furnace. The floor of the antique market is boiling hot. Chen Fan sat cross-legged in front of his stall, sweat sliding down his forehead and dripping on the gray canvas at his feet. Several "antiques" were placed in front of him. A blue and white bowl with a chipped mouth, a few vague copper coins, and a pottery figurine with peeling paint. He bought these from the stall next door with the money of several meals. His real treasure is an old compass that he holds tight
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My Repair Technique Can Turn Bugs into Reality
"Lao Zhang, tell me again, what is the normal setting of 'Texture Overlay'?" I stared at the monitoring background on the screen, tapping my fingers fast and hard on the keyboard. At two o'clock in the morning, I was the only one working overtime in the operation and maintenance center of Qingmo Technology Headquarters. The emergency lights made my face pale, but I had no time to care about it - the data chaos in front of me made my blood pressure soar. "Mr. Shen, I have checked three times and
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My Skill Is to Make People Rich
When the tires of the electric car skidded, I had only one thought in my mind—this month's takeout was in vain. It's not that I'm afraid of death, I'm afraid of losing money. Before the retrograde BMW hit me, I was looking down at the order list on my phone. The system rang like a reminder: "You have a new order, please process it in time!" I cursed and looked up. The headlights hurt my eyes. Then there was the sound of brakes, the sound of impact, and the muffled sound of my body flying out and
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Poison Doctor Watchman: Forced 50-50 Start
Bang! Bang! Bang! "Third watch - be careful of candles -" The hoarse sound of gongs pierced the night. Qin Xianyu opened his eyes suddenly. Cold. Biting cold. He held a cold clapper in his hand, and an old lantern in the other hand. The dim yellow light swayed on the bluestone floor, illuminating the patched watchman's uniform on his body. Wrong. He is obviously dead. He died at the end of the day when the gods came, and was crushed into powder by a golden divine light. Memory fragments surged:
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