MTL - Marvel’s Death Merchant - Chapter 24 test

She is the slow-witted idiot of the Prime Minister’s Residence. Everyone bullies her. He is the most respected and unfeeling Prince, with frightening ability and absolute envy! Together, they are conferred an imperial edict of marriage.

She acts stupid and tries to decline in every way possible while he despotically escorts her into the wedding…… everyone ridicules the match, but no one knows that the “idiot” has transformed from a loser into a talent.

After the marriage, when they encounter the Empress Dowager examining the room, they act in concert with each other and pretend to be two mandarin ducks deeply in love. Afterwards, she laughs, “The performance has ended. Your highness, please return.”

He laughs softly, “Since you’ve got onto this Prince’s bed, don’t even think of getting off.”

- Description from Novelupdates

She killed his wife, destroyed his reputation, and ran off with his son. 8 years later, she returned home with her genius son, who already had a fiancée. “Give me the child, or you can’t afford the price.”“A girl who eats meat and vegetables doesn’t suffer, if you want a child, find yourself a woman to give you one.”

Yang Yi, along with everyone else, is thrust upon a Maritime Survival Game.Some lucky individuals possess special ships; the Iron Heart is armed to the teeth, the Swift Wind is so fast it’s almost invisible, and the Ironhead charges forward with a massive ram.Only the Nightmare, Yang Yi’s ghost ship, has strange and gory elements.The protagonist’s journey won’t be smooth sailing — this is not a story for the weak-hearted.

What happens when, in the midst of struggling to keep up with life, you suddenly discover that you were a princess in a past life? Now, you're just a waitress with a drunken mother and a pile of bills to pay. But deep down, you know one thing: you’ll find the stupid jerk responsible for ending your royal life, no matter what it takes.Alexia POV:Then there are the spoiled, narcissistic rich jerks who think their daddy's car gives them a free pass to treat women like objects. Not today, Satan. These guys are like walking perfume ads with egos bigger than their bank accounts. I swear, they should just marry themselves—they're clearly their own type.When one of those jerks lands at my table, I can smell the entitlement from a mile away. I don't even wait for the inevitable sleazy pickup line or the “accidental” brush of their hand against mine. Nope. I pawn them off on one of the other waiters faster than you can say “unpaid rent.”