Quick Transmigration System: Male God, Come Here - Chapter 1113: Reality (3)

An unsealed condom package shattered her steadfast adherence to and fantasies about love, causing the beliefs she had clung to in her heart to collapse in an instant. Liman discovered that not only had her husband been unfaithful, he had also transferred assets and even tried to frame her to get her to leave with nothing.Facing her husband's betrayal, Liman began to seek vengeance!

“Stop following me!” Asher yelled, his patience running thin. He had let it slide for too long because she had done a lot for him. But now she was everywhere, suffocating him.“I’m only trying to protect you,” she responded.Asher sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I need some space, alright? I can take care of myself.”She didn’t budge, and just kept staring at him with that same obsessive look, like she had no intention of leaving.“Is it because you’re strong now? Are you going to leave me because I'm no use to you anymore?” Her voice had turned cold, sharp enough to cut through the silence.“Of course not, you know that’s not the reason…”“Then why do you want me to stop following you?”“I’m just going to the restroom, for God’s sake!” He massaged his temple, clearly at his wit’s end.“Oh, you should have said that earlier.” She giggled, the earlier tension melting away.“I did,” he sighed in defeat.

At nineteen, Dexter was already one of the world’s most celebrated authors. His books topped charts. Critics praised his genius. Fans devoured every word. But behind the acclaim was a lonely boy—raised without parents, love, or real friends—just stories.He published his first novel at fourteen. By seventeen, he was a literary star. But the higher he rose, the hollower it felt.Then came the writer’s block. The headaches. The blackout. And the transmigration.Dexter awoke in the body of Daylan, a disgraced young man in a crumbling, medieval world laced with steampunk tech, divine law, and political unrest. Daylan had already failed two of the three sacred Trials—rites that determine one’s magical potential. He was drowning in debt, entangled in plots to overthrow a corrupt Divine Church, and branded a lost cause.With no way back, Dexter took the final Trial—the most brutal of them all—and began a path that would earn him the whispered title: Soldier, Poet, King.But as his powers grew, one question haunted him: Did he truly die? And if so, who—or what—chose to bring him back?

Transmigration? A Chong Xi Marriage? Sickly husband? How worse can this get?

Mo Qian Xue now lives in a soddy, destitute, small house with broken furnitures. The grass had grown wild and unruly from lack of proper care. The rice pot in the kitchen, it’s left empty. Well, this mess seemed quite manageable, however, why is it they only have one quilt in the house?

Not only does she serve her husband food and refreshments during the day, does she need to make sure he’s well “fed” at night too?

“It’s getting late now… we should go to bed. Said the sickly husband. She simply closed the door, turned off the lights, and went straight to sleep.

“If you dare move, I’ll kick you out of the bed!” She threatened.

In the end, the man still managed to wrap himself around her no matter how she resisted. The sickly husband wasn’t as weak as he appeared to be!

Mo Qian Xue worked hard to become rich. She built workshops, opened factories, one aided by her sickly husband towards prosperity. Fortunately, she could live a peaceful life far from bickering relatives, but then, much to her dismay, she still had to deal with the villagers knocking on her door.

So they want her money? They want her position as a wife? Since when was she, Mo Xian Que easy to bully?! They want to make her lose face? Alright, let them come a little closer then… give them a…. slap!