MTL - Best Ex-wife: President, Don’t Count on Me - Chapter 702 Gunpowder smell on the table

In alternative reality, what if a young padawan that is a descendant of the great Jedi Master Avar Kriss, helped transform the Jedi Order forever and hook some girls in the mean time.(This novel will have elements of the legends to).

Coming back from the magic world, Riya rebuked her shameless stepmother.She was back to her first life with the world treasure and thought that her life would be smooth sailing.But…What was happening with the environment?Why did the mana suddenly recover on this Green Planet?And why did those magic beasts also appear?Riya: ???Ah, Riya silently swore to secretly become stronger to deal with these magic beasts that went on rampage. She would use her runes to make a better life while watching the world recover from the destruction.Unfortunately, things were not so simple.Her best friend’s brother suddenly locked his attention on her.“Ah, ah, ah, you don't have to mind me….”“The runes you make are really interesting. Can you show me more?” The man smiled and stepped closer.“I…I can, but can you please not come too close?!”Riya just wanted to meditate silently, so how did she suddenly attract this big boss’s attention?

Su Binglan was known to be the most awful woman in Suteng Village. She spent money to buy a beautiful slave and had him marry into her family, but physically and verbally abused him every day.

The new Su Binglan who transmigrated over learned that this slave was a descendant of a family of generals. The courageous warriors in his family had sacrificed themselves, leaving only him alive. Seeing the man covered in wounds, Su Binglan decided to spoil her husband. Blessed with incredible luck, equipped with a spatial spirit spring and possessing divine medical skills, she led the entire village on a journey to gain wealth. She became everyone’s lucky star.

The weather was dry with no sign of rain. The crops were about to die from this drought, but with a snap of her fingers, rain immediately started pouring.

Despite the villagers’ painstaking efforts, their harvest amount was low. She presented them premium seeds and helped everyone achieve great harvest.

Poison? Fractured limbs? Not to worry. She could use her medical skills to cure them all.

Whichever mountain she entered, the treasures inside seemed to call out to her, begging her to take them home.

Their food culture wasn’t as advanced. She casually made a few dishes and started a new food trend.

The man who dotes on her and protects her: Darling, I’ll give you whatever you want.

All the villagers: Binglan, you’re our village’s lucky star. Don’t let anyone take you away.

Her brothers: Our sister is the priority. We will get you whatever you want.

[Group pampering + multiple identities + a kingdom building story with no awful characters + strong female lead + sweet story about pampering her husband]

It's simple. A vengeful wildfire of a woman. A tyrant who begs to be burned.When Aria crashes into Kael’s empire, hellbent on making him pay for taking her job away, she’s met not with defiance—but a dare. “You want revenge?” he taunts, voice dripping with dark invitation.“Then ruin me. Take your pound of flesh exactly where it hurts.” His proposition is a trap laced with sin: As expected he calls the shots in his bed, her contempt is his twisted aphrodisiac.“Hate me until your hands shake,” he growls. “But do it on top of me, where I can watch you savor every cut.”Their arrangement is a collision of dominance and delirium. Aria wields her fury like a blade, determined to break him. Kael? He thrives under her wrath, goading her darker, deeper, hungrier.But vengeance turns slippery when every command she hisses ignites his obedience, and every cold glare melts into bruising kisses. Soon, the bed becomes a battleground—her nails carving victory into his skin, his whispers a serpent’s promise: “Chain me with your rage, darling. I’ll still come back for more.”The rules are simple: No mercy. No surrender. But as their games spiral into something ravenous, who’s destroying whom? And when hatred burns this hot, what’s left when the ashes cool?