An Alchemist's Path to Eternity - Chapter 46: Rigged Match Isn’t It?

Li Yao, a retired assassin, woke up one day to find herself transmigrated to ancient times and became a famous shrew far and wide.

With hands on her hips, she wailed loudly. Villagers called her the bane of ghosts, and even dogs would circle around when they saw her.

She had four children, her husband had passed away, and it was a disastrous year, leaving them poor as church mice.

Fortunately, River Bay Village was nestled against a big mountain, with wild chickens, wild boars, wolves, tigers, herbs, spices, corn, sweet potatoes, potatoes… it seemed to have everything.

Rely on the water to eat, and rely on the mountain.

With her skills that exceeded the times, Yao Li quickly became the wealthiest person in River Bay Village.

She was determined to stick to her original aspirations – retire and live out her remaining years in peace.

But as a widow, there were many things at her doorstep.

Her maiden family coveted her wealth; local ruffians lusted after her beauty; the magistrate admired her talents; the prefect wanted to rely on her to build up his political achievements; the scholar admired her literary talent; the chancellor respected her breadth of knowledge…

Wave after wave, wearing down her doorstep.

Even a Prince was amazed by her, finding all kinds of excuses to frequently visit and neglect his palaces.

Li Yao adapted to the circumstances, sparring back and forth, just wishing her retirement life would remain undisturbed.

But unknowingly, the world was changing because of her.

A nordic romance that burns up coldly!

Shen Yu was sincerely in love. For that person’s sake, Shen Yu ignored his illness-ridden body and plotted to overthrow the tyrant. It was only after Shen Yu died that he learned the truth. He was a character in a book, and the man he loved only viewed him as a stand-in for the protagonist. To pave the way for that couple’s happiness, Shen Yu lost everything.After he was reborn, the sickly Shen Yu was so done with that.As for that man, whoever wanted him could have him.Shen Yu took his half-brother’s place and became the male concubine of the tyrant. The tyrant didn’t like men anyway, and Shen Yu didn’t have much time left. Since he was going to die, he might as well go to the palace to sit around and wait for death.After entering the harem of the tyrant everyone feared, Shen Yu ate and drank without a care in the world.The tyrant, with long black hair on his shoulders and crimson eyes, didn’t hide his hostility. He grabbed Shen Yu by the neck. “You’re not afraid to die?”Shen “Just get it over with” Yu felt a little excited. “Are you going to kill me now?”Tyrant: “? ? ? ? ?”Shen Yu entered the palace expecting to die, but he waited and waited and waited. In the end, the officials petitioned to make him the empress, and the tyrant cured his deadly illness.Shen Yu: “…”Shou: jumps frantically up and down on the gong’s bottom line but never diesGong: all he can do with the shou is lower his bottom line again and again

war, blood, and betrayal carved him into something else. A legend. A killer. A mercenary whose name struck fear into both criminals and so-called heroes alike.But now, the world had changed. Lines blurred between right and wrong, between justice and vengeance. Should he step into the light, wear the mask of a hero, and fight for a cause greater than himself? Or should he embrace the darkness that had always been his home, a place where morality was just another illusion?“Don’t box me in with your shallow ideas of good and evil,” he muttered, his voice calm but edged with danger. “I do what I want, when I want.”The air was thick with tension as he moved like a shadow through the dimly lit room. The writer had no time to react—one moment, he was scribbling nonsense about legends and myths; the next, a cold barrel pressed against the back of his head.The figure smirked beneath his mask, eyes gleaming with something between amusement and menace.“You wanna write fiction?” he whispered. “Then let me show you how real legends are made.”A single gunshot shattered the silence.As the writer’s body slumped over the desk, the man holstered his weapon, stepping into the faint glow of a flickering neon light.“It’s that simple,” he said, his voice unwavering. “I’m Deathstroke.”