I Became A Playwright In Medieval Fantasy - Chapter 39

From the age of 7, Qiao Qiao realised that her family wasn’t quite the same as her friends’ families.

Her father, dressed in all white, said, “Our girl should learn to cultivate immortality with me!”

Her mother, dressed in battle armor, said, “Our girl should train her body to protect herself!”

When discussing it, they decided to solve it with a duel outside.

Her brother secretly asked, “Qiao Qiao, do you want to be in the entertainment industry with me?”

Then, her brother was kicked out of the house by her parents. She prayed that he was okay out there. 

Qiao Qiao sighed. She was really worried about this family.

She silently collected mech building materials. There was no other way, if she learned how to use mechs, she would be able to get a good job. Unfortunately, her unreliable parents didn’t understand.

It seems like the burden of supporting this family was handed over to her.

- Description from Novelupdates

The pain from the gunshot was nothing compared to the pain she felt in her heart as she realized she would be losing not only her life but also her unborn baby. With eyes that beheld great resentment, she looked at the man, the father of the child and her cousin's arms in arms.“Why?” There was nothing else to say. Eyes conveyed everything that was needed to be said,She didn't deserve such an end.He knew this.But the man had an impassive look. As if years of their time spent together meant nothing to him. Years of her showing him with affection meant nothing to him.Just one world“Fate”...As she opened her eyes, she found herself the very night this tragedy started. The day she got married to David.The face was the same, the reception was the same, and the room was the same. But the soul was not the naive inexperienced stay-at-home wife. But a betrayed woman who burnt in the flame of vengeance.

Zhang Ming has obtained the god-level anti-sign-in system, which can disguise the Holy Land, attract others to sign in, and draw 90% of the reward.

【Ding! Zhanhong, the son of planes, checks in at your Sword of Swords of Immortals (pseudo), and you get the Secret Scroll of the Heavenly Book·True]

【Ding! Daoist Qingquan, the illegitimate son of the plane, checks in at your ginseng orchard (pseudo), and you get Xisui Dan × 90%]

【Ding! The transmigrator Wang Hong signs in at your Tianshi Mansion (pseudo), and you get Tianshidu·True]

【Ding! The reincarnator, Chu Fan, checks in at your Nine Dragons Coffin (pseudo), and you get the Desolate Holy Body × 90%]

【Ding! The reborn Ye Xiaoxuan checks in at your Miaomu Mountain (pseudo), you get the immortal mode × 90%]

【Ding! The extraterritorial demon Wang Zanghai checks in at your lock demon tower (pseudo), and you get the water spirit bead·true]

【…】

“Young man, you have to pay taxes when you sign in, you know?”

(Book Friends Group: 710233203)

- Description from novelbuddy

...[Inside an underground basement]“You are going to die for nothing, hahahaha,” the old man's voice thundered through the room, sending chills down my spine.Step.With a swift and ruthless motion, he lunged forward, his sword slicing through the air and slashing my throat, crimson droplets staining the darkness.“We'll see,” I whispered defiantly, my final words escaping as a mere breath against the impending darkness.Slowly, inexorably, my consciousness slipped away, and I descended into a deep, unfathomable slumber.“Huh!?” My eyes fluttered open, and I found myself seated in a bustling tavern, the air thick with laughter and the clinking of glasses.In front of me stood a captivating lady, her beauty juxtaposed with an angry furrow upon her brow, threatening to shatter the harmony of the jovial scene.“Don't follow me around!” Her words pierced the air like shards of ice, the intensity of her emotions palpable as she cast a resentful glare in my direction, before swiftly departing from the tavern....Am I trapped within the confines of a game? The fragments of my shattered common sense scattered before me, leaving me to question the very fabric of my reality.