She Reincarnated with the Ancestors of the Emperor - Chapter 23: Three Thousand Taels, I’ll Cover It for Your Third Uncle

Yu Ziyou and Zhong Wan served different masters.

They had once been the closest of souls, and were the bitterest of enemies.

After losing the fight for the throne, Zhong Wan brought his two young masters with him far toward the borders for the sake of survival. He relied on the little friendship that existed between him and Yu Ziyou when they were young. He borrowed some of his personal belongings while also dropping various hints around which made everyone think that there was something intimate going on between them.

Given the Yu Clan’s powerful authoritative presence in the imperial court, this appearance of a close tie allowed Zhong Wan to live a much better life than before. As such, the stories he cooked up began to carry more and more weight.

As rumors of their lovely romance spread a thousand miles into the horizon, Yu Ziyou, who was located in the distant capital city, eventually caught wind of his deeply moving and epic love affair. In a trance, Yu Ziyou, who had been completely brainwashed for seven years, believed in them. He guessed something special really did happen between them back in those years…

- Description from Novelupdates

Yohan wakes up ten years in the past, back when he still lived with his uncle and hadn’t yet lost his parents’ massage parlour. With a strange book filled with wellness techniques in his hands, he decides to live differently this time—more aware, more purposeful, and maybe even more fulfilled.

Reincarnated with major advantages selected in haste. The new world is vast and hostile...a world almost infinite in scope. Essentially a Dyson Sphere created by magic and sustained by magic. A World Sphere. Can the MC delve into the mysteries of the sphere?

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.”