MTL - The General’s Little Peasant Wife - Chapter 89 Watching the lantern

After being reincarnated as the youngest son of Emperor Wu of Zhou, Zhao Yao was not favored much. In order to survive the bloody power struggle for the throne, he had to bide his time. Finally, he grew up and was granted a title of nobility, only to be exiled to the distant region of Lingnan by his dear father.It was said that Lingnan was incredibly poor, but Zhao Yao was not afraid. He focused on infrastructure and production. Under Zhao Yao's management, Lingnan transformed from a place of exile into a prosperous land.Just when Zhao Yao was happily living his carefree life in Lingnan, the ministers traveled a thousand miles to beg him to ascend the throne.Zhao Yao was baffled. Had these ministers lost their minds?

The former Immortal Ascension Realm Cultivator Wang Che failed to overcome the Heavenly Tribulation, and as a result, his soul transmigrated to a world of the Martial Soul where soul beasts and humans lived together peacefully.

Collecting legendary antiques, retracing the mysterious martial arts. From the moment he activated his cheat, Casio knew that he was no longer ordinary.[Legendary Antiques: Wind Elephant Ivory Pendant]Seventy years ago, in the North Flow Country of the Hong Li Federation, at the Wind Elephant Gate Youth Training Camp.“Li Wei, you are a coward! On the day your sister was brutally murdered, you were trembling in a corner! On the night of the Sect Destruction War, you disgracefully fled! During the many long years of revenge, you missed the opportunity again and again!”“Now let me teach you what bravery is, let me tell you how to turn suffering into your power. I hope at the moment you behead your enemy, you will remember: you are a man, an upright man!”The taboo era, hidden legends. A Foggy continent paralyzed by the sealed land. Countless brilliant antiquities wail in the ruins.I will witness your lost legends in the mist, the knights in the sky, the ghosts in the desert, the rats in the mud. The direction of sword fights points to the light, and flowers will grow where bullets fall. The winds of history will eventually sweep away the rubbish from the era's gravesite.