MTL - Mr. CEO, Spoil me 100 Percent! - Chapter 39 This will show you the evidence.

# little idiot # frivolous # two-faced # fondnessovertime

Eighteen-year-old Liu Li had just entered freshman year. But during her winter vacation, she inexplicably became a married woman?!

Ah, wait. That was a mistake. She became engaged.

What?! They’ve been engaged since childhood! Wouldn’t it be more convincing to say that she had made that decision in her previous life instead?!

Who would believe a story like this? Did they think she was a kid that was born yesterday?!

But then…

Why does she have a love token from the Tang family? And it was something she had worn since young till now.

Can she not get married? No! What to do? She was only eighteen years old.

The law states that girls can only marry once they reach twenty years of age! Oh, they’re not going to register here, so they didn’t need to wait till she reached twenty!

Highlight 1:“Hello, may I know how to get to the Tang family residence?”

With a smile on her face, Liu Li looked at the address on her phone as she asked a driver who had stopped at the side of the road for directions.

Then, her gaze traveled upwards. A man had opened the car door and gotten out of the car, standing in front of her.

He was almost 30cm taller than her! Liu Li couldn’t help but stare. Finally, the kind hearted driver personally escorted her to the Tang family residence.

Wait a minute, he’s the Tang family’s eldest son…

Her fiance!!! Highlight 2: “Do you know that I’m only eighteen years old?”

With an indifferent look on his face, the man glanced at her cooly but didn’t respond. Liu Li puffed up her chest, summoning her courage as she continued, “So, you can’t force a little girl to do something she doesn’t want to do! “I have a list of rules so that we’ll get along after marriage, and we’ll abide by them together. “

First, I sleep on the bed, and you sleep on the couch. If you’re not happy with that, we can do it the other way around too!

“Second, we’ll pretend we don’t know each other if we see each other in public. Of course, you can’t call me ‘wife’ or ‘darling’ either. “Third, this marriage will go on for two years. We’ll sign the divorce agreement first in case you regret it when the time comes.

“Fourth, you have to give me an allowance every month. If you can’t give me one thousand, five hundred is fine too!”

Dear readers! Fresh green style, maybe you will like it more in .

# COZY # OMNIPOTENT # CHIEFASSISTANT

In her past life, Mo Ruyue was a top-notch assassin. She was as indifferent as an abyss, and had killed more people than she had fingers to count. In her new life, she became the vicious stepmother of five munchkins in a remote mountain valley, and they were terrified of her. In this life, she decided to change the way she lived. She only had four bare walls for a house? Her children starved to the point they were just skin and bones? No problem. She could kill wild boars with her bare hands, so food wasn’t an issue. She was also proficient in multiplication tables, and her kids instantly became big fans of hers. It had been a difficult journey to change from a vicious stepmother to a warm one. Then, her supposedly dead husband suddenly returned, now the first minister of the dynasty.“Let’s divorce. Give me the children, and I’ll return the money to you.” “I don’t lack anything, just you and the children.”

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.”