MTL - The Mage Behind the Scenes From the Twin Cities - Chapter 511 differences between civilizations

Transmigrating into a world of cultivation, you find yourself at the lowest rung of the sect's hierarchy. Everyone wants to bully you to gain some benefits. Fortunately, there are always a few junior brothers and sisters who are 'generous and understanding', allowing you to improve peacefully and secretly grow stronger. Years later, unbeknownst to anyone, you successfully become a deity within the sect. This day, your master visits you at the sect's request.'The upper echelons of the sect believe you have been diligent and loyal over the years, and though your strength is mediocre, you are an honest person, so they've found a marriage alliance for you.''An alliance marriage?''Not exactly. The other family has a rule: marrying into their family means taking their surname.'Is this... becoming a son-in-law who marries into the wife's family?

What the heck? She, a famous doctor from the 23rd century, turned into a village peasant girl of a different world!

I had nothing left to live for.No family. No friends. No future.Just a shattered soul wandering through a world that had already taken everything.Then I died.And that’s when everything changed.I woke in a world of light. A void between realms. A place where gods whisper and broken souls wait to be judged. There, I met Ashen Crimson—a man who had once been worshipped, then feared, and finally cursed by the very gods he had defied. A tyrant who had destroyed his own world.But now, he’s offering me something terrifying:His life. His past. His power. His chance to make things right.The catch?The world of Zerawell is fractured.Ashen’s name is soaked in blood.His fate is sealed—exile, ruin, and eternal hatred.And now, it’s my name.Because I’ve been reborn as Ashen Crimson, heir to a house that both reveres and reviles me. A noble with dormant shadow magic, a shattered reputation, and a cursed destiny I never asked for.But I’ve lived a life of pain. I’ve walked alone through hell already.And I won’t follow his footsteps into madness.With a divine system familiar in my soul, a second chance burning in my chest, and the memories of a monster as my burden—I will rewrite this fate.Let them call me villain, disgrace, or traitor.I didn’t choose this story.But I’ll finish it.Even if it kills me.

The night before we obtained our marriage certificate, I asked him, “When did you start to develop feelings for me?”

He answered, “I don’t remember.”

“But, why me?”

“Why not you?”

“I’m very petty, and I get jealous very easily.”

“So am I.”

“I’m afraid I’m not worthy of you.”

“So am I.”

“I haven’t really dated, so I don’t know what love is.”

“I don’t know either.”

He held my hand gently, “But I know this. When I think about spending the rest of my life with you, I feel that my future is filled with hope.”

At 16, we used the same class desk, with less than 10cm between our arms. My peripheral vision was full of him.

At 26, I woke up in the morning, and saw the sunlight softly shining on his face. I thought, this is how I want to grow old – gradually, together, with him.

I guess this must be love.