His Dearest Wife - Chapter 656

(Immortal Cultivation+Meeting a Perfect Match+Shura Field+Invincible Flow+Upgrade Flow+Playing the Pig and Eating the Tiger)—What is cultivation? When I think back to the past, cultivation was, as a baby, kicking my legs over and over again—kicking on the bed, kicking on the ground, kicking every single day. Cultivation was, as I grew older, swinging my sword again and again—slashing here, cutting there. Cultivation became, as I matured, the repeated harmony of yin and yang—busy tonight, and busy again tomorrow night. … My name is Xu Ming. I have never cared about the stipends given to me by those sect masters, noble ladies, or princesses.I said to her, “Can you give me a room closer to yours? I need to report my work to you at any moment.” Even if I accomplish nothing every day, I just want to watch how she cultivates. I…

The marriage between the Mu Clan and the Gu Clan had been going on for seventeen years, but unexpectedly, the Gu Clan's Second Brother had suddenly encountered a car accident five years ago.

In order to prevent his beloved granddaughter from being wronged in the past, the Mu family directly chose to have their younger sister replace them.

He didn't expect that after the Mu family's unfavoured granddaughter got married, she would be doted on. No matter what event she participated in, as long as she had him as the second young master's daughter, she would definitely follow his sweet little wife.

Riding out the apocalypse on a tropical island isn't exactly a vacation. When mana arrives on Earth, Coop finds himself isolated in paradise with only one real option to survive. He needs to claim a civilization shard and level up. Coop maximizes his chances by carefully selecting a class and committing to progression. He’ll need to grind thousands of monsters to compete on the system's leaderboards while upgrading his settlement to represent the factionless.

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.”