Married to his secret crush - Chapter 122 - Tradition?!

She is the underworld Ghost Doctor’s only disciple, who accidentally transmigrated into the body of the main wife’s daughter in the general’s mansion. She used to be a punching bag.Now, she stepped on her dregs of an older sister, put her father’s concubine in her place, and teaches any objectionable aristocratic ladies a lesson.

Her days are rather free and unfettered. But when did that cold as ice prince from the rumors, sporting a deadpan face all day long, fix his gaze on her?
He unexpectedly fawned and pandered to her like a devoted dog?

“Go away, you rotten man! Careful or I’ll needle you like a pin cushion!”

“Wife, why are you so fierce? As a husband, I’m so scared”
….the man is all smiles as he approached, his eyes gleaming with a cunning light.

- Description from Novelupdates

Before rebirth, Xia Man had been wondering, when did Qu Zhen begin to hate her?

Was it when she foolishly followed behind her and constantly talked while eating? Or when she would always clumsily break the gifts she was given? So she started hating her?

Did she think such a person was not worthy of being her friend at all? Doesn’t deserve the sunshine?

Right! Sunshine or whatever, it can only be her Qu Zhen!

Xia Man always felt that the friendship between the two people was like Qu Zhen’s alms to herself, never equal.

Xia Man didn’t understand what Qu Zhen meant until she died.

“I thought I never missed it. Now I understand that I’ve never been right.”

Qu Zhen, in a sense, died by Xia Man’s hands, not from a zombie.

Qu Zhen, you could never have been right after doing something wrong. You should never fall in love with a person with a distorted personality.

After Xia Man was reborn, she only wanted one thing.

She wanted those who used her to hurt Qu Zhen to die rather than to live!

- Description from Novelupdates

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.”

A relentless young man, a shadow of a dragon soul sword, a legendary immortal saga.Who will be the peak in the battle for imperial supremacy, only I, Lin Xuan, despise all living!