Gong Zi
13 Published Stories
Gong Zi's Books and Stories
His Unwanted Mute Wife: Now His Obsession
Mafia I was the mute fisherman's daughter who married the King of New York, only to become his prisoner.
Dante Vitiello didn't love me; he used my silence as a weapon and let his mistress, Valeria, rule my home.
When Valeria poisoned herself to frame me, Dante didn't look for the truth.
He drained my blood to save her life, then threw me into a freezing dungeon to rot among the rats.
He planned to marry her while I shivered in the dark, telling me I was nothing but gutter trash.
With no voice to scream and no way to fight, I chose the only escape left.
I swallowed a vial of lethal pufferfish toxin, trading my life for a coma that mimicked death.
I wanted to haunt him. I wanted my cold body to be his punishment.
But when I woke up a year later, the world had changed.
I wasn't in hell. I was in a clinic, and Dante was lying on the floor with a bullet in his temple.
He had discovered the truth too late.
To wake me up, he had accepted a deadly game of Russian Roulette.
He signed our divorce papers with a steady hand, then pulled the trigger to buy my freedom.
The monster was dead.
And for the first time, the silence belonged to me. His Unwanted Mate: The Supreme Alpha's Queen
Werewolf For five years, I sealed my own wolf and pretended to be a "Wolfless" weakling, all to soothe my Alpha husband's fragile ego.
But when his mistress committed a crime, Ignatz commanded me to take the fall.
Desperate, I revealed the secret I had been keeping: I was pregnant.
I thought it would save me. Instead, he sneered at my stomach.
He called our child "biological waste" compared to the "high-born" heir his mistress was carrying. He ordered his guards to drag me to the clinic to "fix the mistake."
I managed to escape the needle, only to be hunted down and thrown into a silver mine.
The toxic metal didn't kill me, but the agony did something worse. It killed my unborn pup.
While I lay bleeding in the dark, Ignatz hosted a grand gala. He publicly rejected me, dissolving our bond to marry his mistress, believing I was dead and gone.
He didn't know his mistress was actually carrying a Rogue's bastard.
He didn't know he had just murdered a Royal Prince.
And he certainly didn't know that the grief had shattered the seal on my powers.
The "Wolfless" girl died in that mine. The White Wolf rose in her place.
Three days later, I crashed his engagement party.
But I didn't come alone.
I walked in flanked by the Royal Army and the Supreme Alpha, ready to burn his pack to the ground.
Ignatz fell to his knees when he saw my glowing eyes, but I only had one thing to say.
"Kneel." Pampered By The Rival Mafia Boss
Mafia Ten years ago, I saved the life of New York’s most dangerous mob boss with a sewing kit. I gave Ethan Reed my youth, my loyalty, and my heart.
But the moment his ex-girlfriend Chloe returned, I became disposable.
It didn't matter that she had abandoned him. It didn't matter that she poisoned me, killing the unborn child Ethan didn't even know we had.
When Chloe needed a kidney transplant due to her drug abuse, Ethan didn't protect me. He strapped me to a gurney.
"It's just one kidney, Ava. You owe me."
He harvested my organ to save the woman who murdered his heir. And when he was done, he decided I was a loose end.
He dragged me to the edge of a bridge in the pouring rain.
"This is how it ends," he said, his eyes devoid of love. "A tragic suicide."
He pushed me into the freezing water, watching me drown to secure his happy ending.
He thought I was dead. He thought the canary had sung its last song.
But he forgot one thing. I was the chemist who built his empire.
When his greatest rival pulled me out of the river, I didn't pray for salvation. I prayed for revenge.
Three months later, I walked into his charity gala on the arm of his enemy, wearing a white suit and a smile sharp enough to cut glass.
Ethan dropped to his knees when he saw me.
But I wasn't there to forgive him. I was there to burn his house down. His Unwanted Fiancée Was His True Savior
Mafia I was standing in five thousand dollars of hand-stitched lace when I received the medical report.
My fiancé, Dante de Rossi, the future Don of Chicago, had gotten another woman pregnant.
He didn't apologize. He didn't beg. He looked me in the eye and called it a "strategic necessity."
"Isobel saved my life five years ago," he said coldly. "I owe her this child. You will raise it as your own. It is the price of the Peace Treaty."
He forced me to cancel our engagement photos so he could take them with her.
He took her on the vacation meant for our honeymoon.
At dinner, he ordered me the seafood risotto, completely forgetting my deadly shellfish allergy, while fussing over Isobel’s water temperature.
When I tried to leave, he cornered me.
"You are a mob wife, Nina. Act like one. She is the hero who saved me."
I wanted to laugh.
Because five years ago, in that alley, Isobel wasn't even there.
I was the one in the mask. I was the one who stitched his femoral artery and saved his life, risking my own medical license.
He was destroying our twenty-year relationship to pay a debt to a liar.
I didn't scream. I didn't fight.
I simply picked up a red marker and walked to the calendar.
On the day of our wedding, while Dante stood at the altar waiting for his obedient Queen, I was already boarding a one-way flight to the other side of the world.
I left him nothing but four words scrawled across the date:
"Let's break up, Dante." His Heart, My Ultimate Betrayal
Billionaires Everyone in Seattle said my five-year marriage to tech mogul Elias Odonnell was a placeholder. I never believed them. He was the man who would delay a billion-dollar meeting for my food cravings and donate his own rare blood to save my father' s life.
The day I discovered I was pregnant, I overheard him on a call with his childhood sweetheart, Juli.
"Marrying Gemma was just the only way to get close enough to her father to cure you."
My world shattered. He brought Juli into our home, pretending she was my doctor. They tormented me, locking me in a panic room to trigger my deepest fears. Then, during a forced mountain hike, a sudden shove sent me falling from a cliff. I lost our baby.
In the hospital, I overheard the real reason he saved my life. It wasn't for me, but to keep my father emotionally stable so his "liver tissue quality" wouldn't be compromised before the harvest.
He called our dead child "a complication I've now been spared from dealing with."
With nothing left to lose, I found an unlikely ally in my father's surgeon, a man who owed my dad his career.
He came to my room and whispered, "We'll stage a fake surgery. While everyone is distracted, I'll get you and your father out of here." Love's Betrayal: The Unseen Daughter
Fantasy As a ghost, I watched my parents arrive at my crime scene. My mother, a renowned surgeon, and my father, the District Attorney, were there to consult on the brutal murder of an unidentified young woman.
That young woman was me. But they didn't know. To them, I was just Jane Doe, a messy case and an inconvenient headline.
My mother examined my broken body with chilling detachment, her analysis of the torture wounds purely clinical. My father arrived, complaining about the political fallout and the bad press.
Standing just feet from my corpse, they discussed their "missing" daughter-me.
"She's just being dramatic," my father scoffed. "Probably shacked up with some loser to get back at us."
They were more worried about my adopted brother, the golden boy Javon, and his upcoming championship game. I was the family's problem in life, and it seemed I was an even bigger problem in death.
The irony was a physical weight. They were talking about me, their lost daughter, while my body lay decomposing at their feet. They were blind, wrapped up in their perfect lives and their love for the son who orchestrated my end.
But they would find out. The killer made one mistake. He forced me to swallow a tiny pet microchip, a clue registered in my name. A piece of evidence that would not only give me back my identity but would expose the monster they called a son and burn their perfect world to the ground. Fated Love, Unwritten Endings
Romance For three years, I paid millions to have Caleb Mitchell as my boyfriend. I funded his sister's experimental cancer treatment, and in return, the brilliant, proud student played the part of my loving companion. He resented being bought, but I was foolish enough to fall in love with him.
That foolishness ended two months ago, after a fall from a horse left me with a concussion. I woke up with the horrifying knowledge that my entire life was a lie—I was just the villainess in a novel, a footnote in a story about him.
In this story, Caleb was the hero, destined to reunite with his true love, Frances. I was the obstacle he had to overcome. My pre-written fate was to go mad with jealousy, try to destroy them, and end up ruined and dead.
I thought it was a hallucination until the plot began to unfold. The final proof was the vintage watch I spent months restoring for his birthday. A week later, he gave it to Frances, telling her it was just some old trinket he'd found.
According to the script, seeing that watch on her wrist was supposed to make me fly into a hysterical rage, sealing my tragic fate.
But I refuse to follow their story. If the villainess is destined for a tragic end, then this villainess will simply disappear from the book altogether.
I slid a black credit card across the polished desk. "I want to be declared dead," I told the man who specialized in new beginnings. "Lost at sea. No body." The Inmate's Redemption: A Mob Boss's Debt
Modern After six long years, I walked out of prison on my 30th birthday, ready to reclaim my life.
Instead, my ex-husband, Ryan, arrived with his high school sweetheart, Gabby, who coldly informed me Ryan's sleek new Tesla had "Gabby's seat."
My own son, Caleb, now ten, peered from the back, his eyes mirroring his father's icy gaze, asking why I was even trying to get into "Aunt Gabby's seat."
Then came the demand: apologize to Gabby publicly for what I "did," or Caleb would forever believe I was a "crazy liar" who attacked Gabby, his "real mom."
Just when I thought it couldn't get worse, a deliberate hit-and-run orchestrated by Gabby left me broken and vulnerable in a hospital bed, part of a sinister plan to fake amnesia and commit me to a mental institution permanently.
How could the man I built an empire with, and my own child, be so utterly poisoned against me?
But they underestimated me. Prison taught me how to survive, how to wait, and how to call in a forgotten favor from a dying mob boss. I'm Jocelyn, and the comeback they never saw coming just started. Twelve Years, One Stranger
Romance On my 30th birthday, I stood in a grand gala, believing I was celebrating twelve years with Ethan, the man I loved, and his big project win.
But my "celebration" was a pathetic banner and a wilting cupcake, while the main stage projected a smiling tribute to Ethan and his "brilliant protégé" – his intern, Madison.
Ethan, oblivious, pointed to the cupcake, "Madison arranged that. Sweet, right?" His intern's "adorkable" hug felt like a trap, her eyes gleaming with malice.
The betrayals escalated: abandoned on a dark train platform for Madison's "panic attack," our anniversary skipped for her "lost keys," and the ultimate insult – being asked to give her my concert ticket.
The final blow came when Ethan, in a fit of rage, weaponized my deepest shame, snarling, "You' re just like your father, always putting your hands on things that don't belong to you."
In that crushing moment, my twelve years of love for him disintegrated into ash, leaving behind only chilling emptiness and the realization he was a stranger.
Ethan, full of arrogant certainty, winked, "Give her a week. She' ll come crawling back."
He had no idea I'd just accepted a promotion to Program Director of my non-profit' s international branch – in London.
I quietly packed two suitcases, deleting him from my life as I hailed a taxi to Logan International.
When he frantically called, yelling, "What is wrong with you?", I simply said, "It's over," then blocked him and turned off my phone, finally free.
But my past wasn't quite done with me, and soon, Ethan and Madison would confront a terrifying truth that would change all our lives forever. She Played Dirty: The MIL Who Met Her Match
Romance Sarah was a calm, capable project manager, often jokingly called a "MIL Whisperer" by her friends.
She prided herself on being a "domestic diplomat," adept at navigating the trickiest family dynamics.
This was her fourth marriage, and she felt well-prepared for any mother-in-law challenges.
What Sarah didn't fully realize was the scale of the battlefield she had just entered.
Her new husband, Michael, came with a notorious mother, Brenda.
This woman had systematically destroyed his previous two marriages, framing one ex-wife for her business's collapse and the other for a manufactured addiction, all to assert absolute control over Michael.
Brenda began her campaign of terror immediately.
At a "welcome to the family" BBQ, she served Sarah a malicious "artisanal slider" packed with an insane amount of habanero peppers and salt, a public trap.
Later, Sarah discovered Brenda had planted a hidden nanny cam in her master bedroom, mirroring the psychological warfare used against former daughters-in-law.
Most women would feel overwhelmed, targeted, and utterly helpless by such calculated malice.
But Sarah wasn't most women.
She had faced worse, and she knew Brenda's every move was a performance, a deliberate attempt to shame and break her.
This wasn't just a personal attack; it was a project.
Brenda wanted to play dirty with cameras and public humiliation?
Fine.
Sarah decided to show Brenda exactly how deeply that game could be played, ready to strategically use Brenda's own tactics to dismantle her carefully constructed empire of control. The Wife He Erased
Modern My wife, Sarah, had conveniently "disappeared" three years ago, leaving me, Ethan Cole, the music mogul, free to thrive with my new star, Tiffany Vance—who just happened to be my high school tormentor and current lover.
Life was perfect, until Tiffany needed a "raw" memoir and suggested Sarah write it. I returned to Sarah’s godforsaken hometown, expecting to drag my "dramatic" ex-wife back, only to be told by her brother, David, and an old woman, Maria, that Sarah had been dead for three years.
I laughed in their faces, accusing them of lying, shoving David, and nearly strangling Maria. I refused to believe it until I ordered my men to dig up her grave. Seeing Sarah’s bones in that cheap coffin felt like a punch to the gut. Then, the world truly tilted when I learned Maria, the woman I’d just assaulted, was my own long-lost mother, whom I believed dead.
Tiffany tried to soothe me with a fabricated story of saving me from drowning, holding up a tarnished locket as proof. But the inscription on that locket, a tiny "S.J." and a unique dent, screamed a different truth. It was Sarah’s. She was my savior, not Tiffany. Tiffany had stolen her heroism, just as she'd stolen my life, and used me as a weapon against Sarah and my family. The realization was a cold, terrifying clarity, revealing the monstrous fool I'd been.
My world, built on lies and cruelty, shattered. The man who had unknowingly destroyed my life would now be the instrument of ultimate vengeance, vowing to uncover every one of Tiffany’s twisted schemes, every lie, and make everyone involved pay. You might like
Rejected by the Son, I Chose the Don
Rabbit On my wedding day, my father sold me to the Chicago Outfit to pay his debts. I was supposed to marry Alex Moreno, the heir to the city's most powerful crime family. But he couldn't even be bothered to show up.
As I stood alone at the altar, humiliated, my best friend delivered the final blow. Alex hadn't just stood me up; he had run off to California with his mistress.
The whispers in the cathedral turned me into a joke. I was damaged goods, the rejected bride. His family knew the whole time and let me take the public fall, offering me his cousins as pathetic replacements-a brute who hated me or a coward who couldn't protect me.
The humiliation burned away my fear, leaving only cold rage. My life was already over, so I decided to set the whole game on fire myself. The marriage pact only said a Carlson had to marry a Moreno; it never said which one.
With nothing left to lose, I looked past the pathetic boys they offered.
I chose the one man they never expected.
I chose his father, the Don himself.
My Husband's Brother Owns My Secret
Rabbit My marriage to Joshua Caldwell was a prison sentence. I was a Hartman trophy, sold to the powerful family who had destroyed mine.
Then I discovered he was cheating. His mistress was pregnant with the child he denied me, and he was stealing my secret song lyrics to build her career. When I confronted him, he called me a spineless liability and threatened to destroy what was left of my family.
To make matters worse, a one-night stand with a stranger turned out to be with my husband's brother, Anthony Caldwell-the Don of the city. He knew all of Joshua's secrets and used them to trap me in a twisted game, seeing me as nothing more than an asset.
They both thought I was a broken doll they could control.
I wrote a song for his mistress, a beautiful execution with a single, impossible note I knew would destroy her voice.
She sang it, and now her career is over.
Now the Don has summoned me to Chicago, not knowing the woman he thinks is his asset is the one who just burned his brother's world to the ground. Betrayed, I Married the Feared Cripple
Hu Minxue Three days after my fiancé publicly dumped me for my stepsister, the Supreme Don issued a command that silenced the entire estate.
I wasn't being cast aside. I was being sold to Damien Russo.
The "Broken Don." A crippled, scarred monster rumored to have murdered his last two wives.
My adoptive mother, Elena, didn't cry for me. She smirked.
To her, I was finally being disposed of.
She was so confident I was walking to my death that she decided to loot my corpse before I even left.
She forged documents to steal my entire inheritance—my biological mother’s trust fund—to pay for my stepsister’s lavish wedding to my ex.
"She won't need money where she's going," my stepsister laughed, wearing a dress bought with my stolen funds.
They thought they were sending a lamb to the slaughter.
They thought I was too weak, too stupid, and too afraid of the monster to fight back.
But they made a fatal mistake.
With my aunt’s help, I didn't just find the proof of their embezzlement; I found a weapon.
I’m not running from the monster. I’m going to marry him.
And when I hand him the evidence that the Herrera family stole from his bride, he won't be my executioner.
He will be my vengeance. His Vow Broke, Her Empire Woke
Hei Baidong I was the perfect Mafia wife, my dowry the foundation of my husband's ambition. I paid for his Yale degree, his tailored suits, and the very mansion he called his own. My reward? He paraded his mistress into my bedroom and declared her his second wife, expecting me to silently finance their affair.
They thought they had broken a merchant's daughter. They forgot I was raised by wolves.
Armed with a blood chit—a life debt owed to my family by the most feared man in Chicago—I walked into the lion's den. I went to Damien 'The Wraith' Falcone, the Dark Don who rules the Outfit with an iron fist, to demand a simple annulment.
But the King of Chicago isn't interested in simple transactions. He saw the steel beneath my silk, the vendetta burning in my eyes. He granted me my freedom, but at a price: my allegiance. Now, I'm a pawn in his lethal game of thrones, caught between a treacherous husband I swore to destroy and a ruthless Don who looks at me with a terrifying, possessive hunger.
In a city built on loyalty and betrayal, I'm about to teach them all that a queen's wrath is the deadliest weapon of all. Married To The Comatose Mafia King
Benjamen Ernst I stood before the altar of the grand gothic cathedral, about to marry Julian Moretti, the grieving adopted son stepping up for the comatose Don.
To the hundreds of mafia men behind us, it was a dutiful wedding. But I knew the horrifying truth.
Julian and his pregnant mistress, Clara, had orchestrated a brutal plot to steal my dowry and secure his place as the next Don.
In my past life, I was completely blind to their betrayal. Julian trapped me in our apartment and set it ablaze.
I could still feel the blistering heat of the fire. I could still hear my mother’s agonizing screams and my little brother Antonio’s desperate coughing as the smoke filled our lungs.
My entire family was burned alive just so Julian could swap the brides and put his whore in my place.
I died in pure agony, filled with hatred and despair, wondering why I had trusted a monster.
God hadn't saved me from those flames. The Devil had.
And he sent me back to this exact moment at the altar.
"Do you, Isabella Rossi, take Julian Moretti to be your lawfully wedded husband?" the priest asked.
Julian reached for my hand with a sickeningly gentle smile.
I didn't give it to him. I tore back my lace veil and turned to face the crowd.
"You are mistaken, Father," I said, my voice like ice. "The man I am bound to marry is your Don. Damien Moretti." Too Late, Mr. Capo: Your Wife Is Gone
Mo Yufei "Happy Anniversary," my husband said, sliding the separation agreement across the mahogany desk.
It was the eighteenth time in five years I had signed these papers.
Matteo De Luca, the most ruthless Capo in New York, checked his Rolex with cold impatience.
"Sign it, Sera. Bianca is on the ledge again. She needs to see we're over, or she jumps."
Bianca. The ward. The broken bird. The woman whose fragile psyche dictated every moment of my marriage.
I signed my name, and he left me alone on our anniversary to save her. Again.
But saving her wasn't enough.
When Bianca pushed me down a flight of marble stairs in a fit of jealous rage, shattering my spine and leaving me paralyzed, I thought Matteo would finally choose me.
I was wrong.
I woke up in the hospital to find him holding her hand, not mine.
"The security footage has been wiped," he told me, his voice void of emotion. "We cannot have a scandal. You fell, Sera. That is the story."
He erased the truth. He erased my pain.
He protected the woman who crippled me over his own wife.
Two months later, he wheeled me into a gala, playing the doting husband while I sat in the chair that was my prison.
He didn't know I had a burner phone hidden in my velvet dress.
He didn't know that tonight, the obedient wife was going to die on the pavement, and a ghost would rise in her place.
I looked at him one last time and dropped the phone in his lap.
"I hope she's worth it." The Discarded Wife Is A Mafia Queen
Shore Tour I am the wife of Dante Moretti, a powerful Mafia Underboss. But in secret, I am "Spettro," the phantom architect who built his entire encrypted bootlegging empire.
On my birthday, I came home to find him gifting our five-year-old daughter the exact plush toy he had violently slapped out of my hands months ago. Only this time, he was giving it to his mistress, Adriana, to present as her own.
"Auntie Adriana is a million times better than Mommy."
My daughter's innocent words pierced my heart, while Dante coldly dismissed my presence, treating me like an unwelcome stranger interrupting their perfect family. He mocked my mothering, allowed his mistress to sever my desperate phone calls with my child, and weaponized his power to break our daughter's spirit just to spite me. He sneered that my only purpose was to stay quiet, absolutely certain I would crawl back the second my allowance ran dry.
He thought I was just a weak, submissive wife who had lost everything. He didn't realize that the empire he arrogantly ruled was entirely built on my stolen brilliance.
I left my diamond ring on the table, violently slashed our ancient blood oath in half, and walked out of his gilded cage forever.
Sitting in a cold warehouse, I placed my hands on my telegraph machine and initiated the Ghost Protocol to permanently paralyze his entire criminal network.
The era of playing the dutiful wife was over. I am Donna Falcone, and the vendetta has just begun. Forbidden Affair with My Mafia Stepbrother
Realfantasies The man I had a passionate one-night stand with turned out to be my stepbrother…and the mafia boss.
"The sweet taste of your lips, your lewd moans, all the times that you begged me to do you harder, and the way your hips moved under me…I remember everything about you and that night, Abigail…"
After her fiancé suddenly dumps her to marry her best friend, Abigail decides to drown her sorrows in the passionate embrace of an attractive stranger for the night. Fate plays a game with her again, when she finds out that the man that she spent the night with turned out to be her stepbrother, Raphael. Abigail finds herself living together with Raphael after her mother marries his father.
With her mother’s perfect marriage at stake, Abigail does everything to hide her secret affair with Raphael from everyone but how can she escape from his seductive traps when Raphael refuses to let her go no matter how many times she begged. When their parents go on their honeymoon, Abigail is left to fend for herself from the lusty and calculating beast living under the same roof.
Just when his heated kisses and seductive caresses tear down her walls of defense, Abigail is shocked to learn of Raphael’s engagement and the dark secret behind his family business. While at the same time, their parents are keen on arranging Abigail’s marriage to secure her future.
Through it all, can Abigail gain what she desperately yearns for the most from Raphael: His Love.
How can these two lovers who are destined to play ‘House’ overcome their cursed forbidden relationship and create a happy ending for themselves?
/1/104524/coverorgin.jpg?v=a9256736266a176039cfe994efa0f4b8&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/1/103194/coverorgin.jpg?v=4c07b09ea0be1cad30e307f0b961a9bd&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/1/102096/coverorgin.jpg?v=a610cfeb09f6f55cdbf94f9eb07398c8&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/1/101148/coverorgin.jpg?v=b159bfecb2754ee3c6d3446a1bdc64e4&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/94257/coverorgin.jpg?v=3bf66a4191cc9011887f67ccd3796411&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/92659/coverorgin.jpg?v=f5d682bddba76ea4fb94236408979a1d&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/90453/coverorgin.jpg?v=da1d39b979a395ce8d02de56946911f9&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/84043/coverorgin.jpg?v=aad763b1ba4a2a62c2472b5891dab070&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/83386/coverorgin.jpg?v=0f578a1d9f031e63779c29a979d98b5d&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/83239/coverorgin.jpg?v=d3df2063fc7bff94d55b0109cc3716b6&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/80829/coverorgin.jpg?v=63455f7ae21e774819f832e802421ff4&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/18749/coverorgin.jpg?v=dbbafc361c1a497ed7bd4e35e9687e49&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/18745/coverorgin.jpg?v=f22a3e0332d2e8d6a72938d72e8ea71a&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/1/106756/coverorgin.jpg?v=97365198d2e42e4794a57a69368cfbf7&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/1/106734/coverorgin.jpg?v=c7ef0ae7a01b8941d249a96e5d9ca057&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/1/109994/coverorgin.jpg?v=6df60f632de2c9f91576883d95eb1bbe&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/1/110543/coverorgin.jpg?v=ab7208b3df86eff70fb7110559887de0&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/1/112348/coverorgin.jpg?v=8d931d73a32b19016899510ac21fec40&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/1/110133/coverorgin.jpg?v=a6428170bc09c00f6487b1a72008e49a&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/1/110270/coverorgin.jpg?v=0b4091eec0abc08acf158d1d013debb3&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/1/110488/coverorgin.jpg?v=c25300fa61415699c302b1bcb977c6b9&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/1/112273/coverorgin.jpg?v=119fb71cc6a6aba85416b095d812c54a&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/54234/coverorgin.jpg?v=d829815c29fe9495f5ac9199d81efc40&imageMogr2/format/webp)