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A Gorgeous White (BL)

( An LGBT+ novel) Ending your life isn't the right decision. Moulin didn't believe this saying until he did it. Moulin, a depressed shut-in digital writer, transmigrates into the frail body of a spoiled young master. Unknown to him, he was swallowed by the fear of death. This time, he intends to start a new beginning and relive his life carefully. Waking within the frigid confines of a cave of ice. Nightly whispers of guidance and so much more. The power of unknown origin... An unusual world where special people possess elemental powers and thriving magical beasts, A cute meng selling snow-white fox, A crowd of overprotective people, and a powerful yet impressively annoying person...a stressful Moulin massaged his forehead. This couldn't possibly get any worse... Moumou: My body doesn't feel right...( secretly inspects lower body) Moumou: ...@$%#!!!! An Evil Lion: My love, our bed has gone cold... Moumou: (#ง'̀-'́)ง... Warning this novel includes the following: 1. Smut 2. Gore 3. Inappropriate language Publish dates: Monday, Wednesday, and Friday (Sporadic if I get busy ╥﹏╥) || I M P O R T A N T N O T I C E! || This novel is inspired by several BL novels• If you do not like reading LGBTQ+ novels please avoid reading this• This author is trying her best!• Enjoy! The cover is originally is drawn by yours truly º^º *hehe want a commission?*

Heather_ANARE · Fantasy
Not enough ratings
459 Chs

|| Chapter 92 || Onwards to Thundralln, the Woodland Palace

The girl's father was an elf?

The floorboards, stained by the soles of Moulin's boots creaked as he stood. His silver eyes stared intently at the sick man laying on the bed and the little girl tugging at his white cloak, staining it with the dirt on her fingers. Moulin didn't mind it.

"M-Mister?"

Seeing that the Moulin wasn't paying attention to her, she grew anxious, stepping back. Moulin noticed the child's movements and he gave a soothing smile. No matter how he looks at her, there wasn't a hint of any physical feature similar to the bedridden elven man.

Moulin patted the head of the little girl and then dragged a wooden rickety stool and bent his head so he could check the man's pulse and temperature. Just as he was about to touch the sickly man's wrist a rough hand abruptly grabbed Moulin's hand.

Moulin only stared at the hand and frowned as he spoke disapprovingly uttered, "What is it?"