MTL - Cult of the Sacred Runes - Chapter 397 Tongtianhe

As the eldest daughter of the Yang Family's main branch, Yang Ruxin's pleasure was building the family fortune and supporting her younger siblings. But why was that blind and lame guy such a Relentless Spirit?When she cooked, he would come to light the fire;When she set up her stall, he would follow to hawk her goods...“I say, Mr. Gu, do you have to help with everything I do?” Yang Ruxin asked with a hint of annoyance.“Yes,” Mr. Gu nodded earnestly.“Then right now I want to...”“Wife.” Mr. Gu hurriedly stood up from his wheelchair, “as long as we don't part, I'll give you anything you want.”

I got cheated on cheh ~ don't worry I have five men who dote on me .

A stoic man who couldn't string two sentences ? I will make him rap watch me .

A hot and cold tsundere who has a venomous tongue for opposite gender ? I will make him pour honey from his mouth .

A stupid and childish man ? see how he flirts like a womanizer with me .

A gentle scholar , cough he ain't gentle with me on bed

A shy introvert ?see him become a wolf in sheep's clothing .

Su Wan - a thirty years old divorced woman who was cheated on by her husband and step sister , spends a night drinking alcohol all the while watching how her ex husband and step sister makes a joke of themselves .

” ahhh !You bastard ! You slag man you think this old lady won't have a man anymore ???Not only this great aunty will have a man ! I will have five men ! One to sleep ! two to roll and three to pamper !! “

Amidst her alcohol intake she passes out only to find her self transmigrated over to a small village in ancient China and that too on her wedding day with The five Lin brothers !

We’ve come to a world where the roles of men and women have been reversed. So, of course, women will rush to us. “You don’t have to bring water.” “Oh, okay…” …I guess I’ll just have to live the way I always have.

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.”