MTL - Bigshot Gives in to His Wife Again - Chapter 239

recovery. However, I will try my best to work ahead and store drafts. If there are no surprises, the release will be around June 25th. Sending love, happy Dragon Boat Festival. Wishing you peace and joy. / 6.25: I still need to spend quite a long time accompanying her in the hospital. I'm willing but powerless, so the new book will be delayed. Dear readers, please don't wait.Transmigrated as cannon fodder, Tian Sangsang vows to turn her life around.Dark-skinned? I have white teeth.Fat? I can lose weight.Poor? I possess a space.So what if I'm ugly? My son is handsome!The handsome son's father: Ten miles of spring wind are not as good as you~(Note: Not traditional, the heroine has a 'golden thigh' but does not cultivate immortality. Also, the fourth volume actually starts from chapter 288 due to an error in volume arrangement, apologies. If you like this book, please vote for it, thank you!)

Meng Qianqian, at the age of 15, married into the Lu Family to bring joy to the elderly matriarch.On the wedding night, urgent news arrived from the border that her husband had been commanded to go to war. Six months later, he tragically died at the hands of Beiliang soldiers.Five years later, the husband who had been presumed dead returned, and by his side was an ethereal mute woman named Wan'er.Lu Lingxiao said that Wan'er was the descendant of a loyal and righteous family, entirely different from her—a merchant girl reeking of copper coins. He claimed Wan'er was a true paragon of noble character.Lu Lingxiao also said that Wan'er was an eagle soaring in the heavens, while someone like her was nothing more than a fragile flower, unworthy of comparison.It was not until the land was broken, the city walls fell, and she wielded a Red Tassel Spear to crush countless soldiers that Lu Lingxiao realized he had misjudged her.She was not a delicate flower confined within the depths of the mansion; she was the fiercest west wind of Yumen Pass.

Hello, everyone. My name is Shen JianGuo. I’m a night school teacher. I mainly teach the subjects of (Marxist) philosophy and ethics. I occasionally review new policies and measures for the students. I never see my colleagues and students during the day. The training institute classrooms are all abandoned schools, hospitals, or houses. The bus number is 444 and it always appears in front of my door at 12 midnight and disappears before 5am.

What? You say I met a ghost? Impossible. As a staunch scientific materialist, I don’t believe ghosts exist in this world.

But recently I’ve had an issue to raise. Can the training institute bring the class time up a little bit? Wouldn’t it be good to start around 8pm? Though I fear nothing on earth or in the heavens, I’m afraid of going bald.

- Description from Novelupdates