The Reborn Wife is Farming - Chapter 667 - : Bisha Miao stockade

After playing a variation of the poker game, Shadow’s Hand, Damien Pearce unexpectedly awakened in an unfamiliar world.Stripped of all kinds of information in the world he was thrown into, Damien now had to navigate it through wits and guts.Amidst his search for information, he discovered that he seemed to be a part of the world as a Transcendent Investigator, otherwise known as TI.The TI seemed fearful and revered among the people in this world. They were responsible for catching Transcendent(s) who misused their power.But was that the reason for his transfer?“Do I or do I not belong in this world?” Damien questioned his presence constantly.

Transmigrated into a novel after her death, Su Jin has an engagement with Lu Xi, the legendary and unrivaled male protagonist, that was arranged between their families. After the revelation of her identity as the adopted daughter swapped at birth, she had no right to the engagement; that belonged to her sister, the female protagonist. In fear of interfering with the novel’s ending, she avoids him… But why is he ignoring the female protagonist and chasing her instead!

The Perfect Fiancé Code:

1. Support his fiancée

2. Unconditionally support his fiancée

3. Protect his fiancée unconditionally regardless of who or whom is present

Lu Xi felt that he should be able to accomplish this.

Su Jin: QAQ, please don’t do this…. I’m supposed to be the cannon fodder sultry ex-fiancée that you were going to dispose of!

Lu Xi: I have always been waiting for the moment that the 22-year-old Su Jin, you, would finally open her eyes.

- Description from Novelupdates

I had finally done it—achieved the ultimate Paladin build. Maxed stats, impenetrable armor, and so many resistances that death itself had given up on me. I was an unkillable tank, an indomitable force. Nothing could stop me.And then my PC exploded.I died.Irony, thou art a cruel mistress.But instead of the afterlife, I woke up as my Paladin character… in the wrong freaking genre. Instead of castles and dungeons, there were people flying around on swords, shooting qi beams like fantasy laser guns.“This is definitely the wrong genre,” I muttered, watching a pompous young master sneer at me.“Kowtow, kiss my foot, and beg for forgiveness!” he declared.I looked at my imaginary maxed-out health bar, then at his flimsy silk robes.Oh, this was going to be fun.