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Every Fanqie book we index, searchable by title, author or tag.
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Mechanical Ascension: Starting from the Wasteland to Repair Mechas
Han Chen propped himself up, and the gravel rolled down from his body. The cold metal slag rubbed against his skin, and a fishy smell penetrated his nose. The wrench in his hand was covered with rust, and the handle was so rough that it hurt. There was a sharp contraction in the stomach, and an empty cramping feeling spread. How long has it been since he's eaten? The memory is blurry, only the instinct of the body urges me. The sky began to darken, and the scrapped "worker bee" exoskeleton not f
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The Pinnacle of E-Sports: the Most Talented Substitute
Club manager Li Zhe's mobile phone slipped from his fingers, and the screen fell to the ground with a "snap", and the cracked lines reflected his ashen face. "Trash! They're all trash!" Head coach Chen An kicked over the tactical board next to him and roared at the assistant coach next to him, spraying spittle in his face. "What's the use of talking about this now? Wang Xuan's hand is injured and he really can't play!" The assistant coach covered his face and yelled back unwilling to be outdone.
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Fenghuo Scholar: I Wish You a Safe Life
The rough hemp rope cut deeply into the flesh of the wrist. The rainwater fell into the mud along his forehead. The prison van was parked at the street corner. Two Japanese soldiers, one on the left and one on the right, roughly dragged Gu Huaian down. The military boots stepped into the stagnant water, splashing muddy mud. Gu Huaian staggered and fell forward. His knees hit the bluestone floor hard, and his bones made a dull collision sound.
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Riding Horses in Lean Years, I Rely on Delivering Water to Become a Legend in the World
Bang! The heavy wooden door was kicked open. The door latch broke, and the two door panels hit the yellow earth heavily, raising a large amount of dust. Three shirtless men stepped into the courtyard. The leader is Zhao San, the small leader of the Iron Wolf Gang. He was holding a machete in his hand, with three blood grooves on the back. Zhao San spat. The spit fell into the cracked mud and disappeared in an instant. "Old man Lin, make love!"
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