Omnipotent Husband System - Chapter 7: Fortune Favors The Brave.

Yao Mo Xin, the empress of Da Chu died in a cruel way a day after she gave birth at the hands of her husband the emperor, Ye Hong Yi, and her legitimate second sister, Yao Shu Ran. Ye Hong Yi got the throne because of the smartness of Yao Mo Xin, but he hated her because she made him feel like a useless person who needed a woman to become the emperor.

In the night, cook wine with the master and discuss the way of heaven and earth!

In the snow, Yu Jian chased the tide of Guangling River!

- Description from novelbuddy

One day, Fang Jueyu was called into the study by his parents.Fang Father: “Son, you've turned 20 this year, and it's time to tell you some things!”Fang Jueyu: “What is it? You're not going to suddenly tell me you're a wealthy man, are you?”Fang Father is surprised: “You already know?”Fang Jueyu: “What? Really? I was just saying that.”Fang Father: “However, that's not the point. Today, I am going to pass on our family's heirloom that has been handed down from generation to generation to you!”From then on, Fang Jueyu's life underwent a dramatic change.What? You want to talk to me about antiques and calligraphy paintings? Do you want Wang Xizhi's calligraphy or Zheng Banqiao's paintings? Oh, right, Van Gogh even gifted my great-great-great-grandfather a painting!Why, you ask? Because it was my ancestors who funded their education!You want to talk to me about sports cars? Are you talking about Lamborghini, Ferrari, or the Bugatti Veyron? I hold shares in those companies, and I'm even the largest shareholder!What? Your family owns a mine? Sorry, but many of the gold and diamond mines in Africa are ours too!

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.”