Tempting Fate - Chapter 15

Li Yiyi never expected to be chosen by fate, being suddenly ripped from the modern times to the ancient times. It wasn’t a full-body transmigration, just a soul transfer. Heaven must have thought it would be too exhausting to send everything over, so only the essence got transferred.In ancient times, Li Yiyi became Li Suniang, a newly widowed woman with a young child. While technology in ancient times wasn’t advanced, the air was fresh and there was no need to worry about pollutants. All the food was purely organic with no pesticide residue or concerns about genetically modified ingredients.It was often said that widows attracted trouble, and sure enough, this young widow caught the eye of a scarred man in the village. Despite his fierce appearance, he turned out to be a gentle person. In the end, the scarred man married the widow and, together with her child, and they began a life filled with mutual support and raising a family.

In her past life, she had no one to rely on and died alone in jail.

But now, she has been reborn, given a second chance.

Got an heirloom.
Activated a mystical Space Dimension.
Studied medicine and became a genius doctor.
Opened a clinic.
Founded a company.
Bought a house and land.
Found her blood relatives.
Her worth became higher and higher.
Her fan club became bigger and bigger.

“Young master, the Zhao family’s young master faked an illness and went to future young miss’s place for treatment. . .” said a servant.

“Break his legs! Fail his organs! A fake illness? I’ll make him sick completely!” A man said.

“Yes! But young master. . . what are you doing?” The servant said, confused.

The man finished swallowing a bunch of expired pills and said, “I’m sick, gotta go find my wife for some treatment!”

*NonRape-General langauge*Liora’s life takes an unexpected and cruel turn when she’s sent to the royal court as a concubine for the disgraced Prince Lucien, a man whose past is shadowed by betrayal and loss. Stripped of his royal title, Lucien has long distanced himself from love and loyalty, existing in a cold, indifferent world.Thrown into this world of palace internal battles, power struggles, and betrayal, Liora must face not only Lucien’s frosty demeanor but also the dangerous secrets that lurk within the court. Every move she makes is watched, every word is questioned. Yet, despite his distant nature, she can’t shake the feeling that beneath the hardened prince lies a man struggling with the ghosts of his past.As Liora tries to find her place in this hostile environment, she faces a constant dilemma: Can she warm the prince’s cold heart and heal his wounds, or will she fall victim to the very same forces that tore him apart?'Can she thaw lucien’s frozen heart, or will his haunted past consume them both?'Arranged marriage,Disgraced prince,Court intrigue,Royal concubine,Forbidden love, Political drama, Palace secrets, Unwanted bride, Betrayal. Haunted memories, redemption,Royal court drama, second chances

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.”