Fanqie catalogue
Books by West Window Candle Trimmer
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- 4
Fanqie books matched on the author's name.
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- The Condemned Minister's Orphan Hears Her Moonlight Lover Speak from the Coffin: I'm Alive 罪臣孤女听见棺中白月光说我活着 My name is Shen Yin. I’m the lowest-ranking maid in the Eastern Palace, assigned to sweep and clean. On the seventh night after the Crown Prince’s beloved died, I heard a cold laugh from inside her coffin. “Can’t you even tell an empty coffin when you see one? Once I’m back in the Eastern Palace, the first thing I’ll do is kill that Shen stand-in.” My right ear grew warm. I could hear the dead speak. I reached out and pressed against the gap in the coffin lid. It was empty inside. The Crown 1Reads—Score—Shelves
- A Hundred Years Later, He Was Reborn as the Demon Lord 百年后，他竟转世成了魔尊 Shen Gui died a hundred years ago, and all three realms believe he became a benevolent Sword Immortal. But when Jiang Wuye and I stormed the Demon Palace, we discovered that he had become a ruthless Demon Venerable, with a substitute by his side, one with a “saintess’s bones and a demoness’s soul.” It was a fake pieced together from fragments of our own souls! Two sworn enemies of a century are forced to join hands. As we tear the substitute apart, we uncover an even crueler truth: His soul was —Reads—Score—Shelves
- The 1970s Military Compound: My Kid Is a Hidden Military Strategist 七零大院：我崽是隐藏军师 In the 1970s, everyone in the military compound knew that I, Xiao Yufen, was a miserable widow, raising my five-year-old son, Shitou, on my own. My husband had died in service in the People's Liberation Army. I was just a woman trying to bring up a child, and everyone in the compound thought I would never get back on my feet. No one knew that my Shitou was no ordinary child. Other people crouched by the wall to watch ants. He crouched there to keep an eye on people. He could hear every whisper —Reads—Score—Shelves
- The 1970s: My Kid’s Map Can Catch Spies 七零：我崽画的地图能抓特务 In the twelfth month of 1970, my neighbor said my husband was a deserter. One sentence from my five-year-old son plunged the whole courtyard into silence: “The person who wouldn’t let him come back is still here.” No one knew my boy could draw military maps, identify enemy agents, and reveal secrets only the fallen would know. No one knew that the symbol he drew was exactly the same as the one his father had brought back from Laoying Ridge. I thought a widow and her child had no choice but to en —Reads—Score—Shelves
