Rise of the Sword Son-in-Law - Chapter 560: You Are Xu Ping’an

[1v1 pure love + transmigration + ancient martial arts + highly pampered by disguise group + mysticism + entirely fictional universe]Gu Zhiqi transmigrated into the role of the vicious female antagonist.The heroine was a true heiress with numerous disguises, while she, usurping the nest of others, constantly framed the heroine, and in the end, tragically received her 'boxed lunch' as the fake heiress.Gu Zhiqi: Even transmigration can't stop me from retiring!However, transmigration couldn't, but poverty could.Master Zhi was forced into business!...#Breaking! Gu Family's fake heiress, Gu Zhiqi, kicked out and now swindling money as a fortuneteller under a bridge#The protagonists' group style started to go awry.Eldest Brother Gu: Need money? Take this neighborhood.Second Brother Gu: Second bro gives you an entertainment company.Third Sister Gu: Just made a billion, keep it safe.Fourth Brother Gu: Young master's championship prize money, take it.Money-loving heroine: Need money? Pick any color card you like.Biological brother: Come back to inherit the family fortune.Gu Zhiqi: “...” Huh? What happened to the vicious female antagonist script?...#Breaking! Everyone in the Gu Family is a top player in their fields, except the fake heiress who's nothing but a pretty face#And then, the big shots started calling one after another.First Big Shot: Our alliance's ancestral site doesn't have better feng shui than under a bridge? Master Gu, reconsider?Second Big Shot: Need money? Think about that last order.Third Big Shot: Have time for fortune-telling, but no time to write papers?Fourth Big Shot: Miss Gu, I have a surgery here, what do you think......Gu Zhiqi: Read, retiring, do not disturb.A certain movie star: You just used my account.Gu Zhiqi, who had swindled enough money to retire, “...” ?!

Introduction 1: The villagers, when mentioning Zhuang Qingning who had no parents, then fell ill and chose to live on her own rather than being fostered by her uncle's family, they sighed and shook their heads, thinking she was paving her own way to death.But who would have thought, she started a workshop, bought a shop, built a house, lived comfortably raising dogs and cats, and everyone who got close to her flourished financially?The villagers: Is it too late to get in good graces with the God of Wealth now? Awaiting your response, it's quite urgent......----Introduction 2: Everyone in the capital city sighed over the good fortune of the Prince Qi, who was unparalleled in his beauty, for he followed the wishes of the late queen and married an ordinary rural girl, thereby giving up an ideal marriage.But who would have thought, the prince was so considerate of his wife, spent fortune to bring a smile to her face, defied orders just to protect her, totally behaving like a man deeply in love......All the people: Excuse me, is it too late to start shipping this couple now?----This story is about a rural woman growing step by step, expressing warmth, lightness, encountering thorny paths and joyful achievements alike, where lovers eventually marry, and there is retribution for good and evil.

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.”