Little Sweetheart

Lu Minye climbed over mountains of white bones to become regent. He was cruel and merciless, and just hearing his name could make children cry.

As he strode through the rain, wielding a bloodstained sword and slaughtering his way across the battlefield, a begonia-patterned oil-paper umbrella suddenly tilted over him. The sinister look in his eyes softened when he saw a pair of fresh, dewy eyes like a fawn’s.

The sweet little girl shivered with cold and asked timidly, “It’s raining so hard. Big brother, d-do you want an umbrella?”

Later.

Whenever the murderous Prince Ye flew into a rage, the little girl would spread her arms to stop him. “Big brother, don’t get angry.”

Lu Minye’s eyes reddened. He sheathed his dripping sword, bent his tall, muscular frame toward her, and buried his face in her dark hair. In a hoarse, low voice, he actually answered, “All right.”

From then on,

that sword, which had taken countless heads, obeyed only her.

A severely bipolar, bloodthirsty, and ruthless god of slaughter × a soft, sweet, gentle beauty

Content warnings: both leads are virgins, happy ending

I recommend Yue Conghuan’s The Minister in His Palm. Here’s the blurb:

Yan Jingshu, the youngest daughter of the Duke’s household, was doted on and raised to be extremely delicate.

The regent, Yan Cheng, once fought a hundred enemies alone on a battlefield strewn with corpses. He personally flayed an enemy general, was decisive and stern, and would fight anyone who defied him.

The two had nothing to do with each other, but the emperor arranged their marriage.

Yan Jingshu would rather die than marry such a ruthless man!

Knowing the regent detested delicate people, she acted even more delicate whenever she saw Yan Cheng. A breeze made her cough, blood made her faint, she wouldn’t eat fish skin, and she had to soak in milk for ages to bathe. If he raised his voice even a little, Yan Jingshu would cry.

Yan Cheng was sure to hate her and call off the engagement.

Who could have guessed? The next time they met,

he picked the bones and skin off her fish. When she drank tea, he went to gather the morning dew. He even kept a dairy cow at home, and learned how to clean her ears and tend to her nails...

Yan Jingshu: ???

The male lead’s version:

No one knew that he had asked the emperor to arrange the marriage.

The hands he used to wield a knife had spent months staying up all night to learn how to care for her nails and clean her ears. He had grown thinner, and still had no idea if his fiancée was satisfied.

He had no father or mother. He had clawed his way up from the mud to a position of immense power for one reason: when he was young, a woman in crimson rode past on horseback, dazzling him in the dark, suffocating childhood that had crushed him.

Content warning:

The author’s writing process and schedule have been screenshotted.

Theme: The fragrance of plum blossoms comes from enduring the bitter cold