Women's World: I am the man with the most OP auxiliary class - Chapter 157: ... This was very fast ~ . . . " (r-18)

[Female lead with no romantic interest + ancient female awakening + passionate righteousness + refusing to be a submissive woman] After failing to conquer the emperor, the system punished me by forcing me to livestream modern life to ancient people.

The man I personally supported to ascend the throne saw me wearing a strapless minidress and dancing seductively at a banquet amidst revelry and wine, and he flew into a rage, accusing me of violating womanly virtues.

I smiled calmly and pointed the camera towards a modern street, launching a shocking livestream for the ancient people!

“Good heavens? It’s nighttime now, but what are those pearls shining so brightly?”

Female lead: Those are light bulbs.

“There are indeed objects in this world that can transmit sound over thousands of miles away. What a marvelous treasure!”

Female lead: This is a cell phone.

“How could the women on the streets dress so scantily and shamelessly flirt with men? Don’t they know propriety? Why hasn’t the county office come to stop these debased women and thrown them into pigsties?”

Female lead: Because this is the glorious era of China!

She faked a name to survive. She never meant to steal three Alphas hearts.Charis Greye was born to be a pawn—engaged to the Alpha King’s son and abused by the very man who called himself her father.But on the night she finally breaks, she vanishes—erasing her past and assuming a new identity as Eamon Riggs, a supposed son of an Alpha accepted into Ravenshore Academy.The catch?Ravenshore doesn’t admit outsiders. And it definitely doesn’t admit girls.Now, trapped in a school built for the deadliest young Alphas in the Kingdom, Charis must keep her identity hidden while navigating a dangerous world of shifting alliances, academy secrets and the brutal revenge of a SCORNED HUMAN, WOMAN!!!As if that wasn’t enough…three Alphas are watching her closely.One is her vengeful ex-mate.One is a ruthless strategist hunting lies.One is a charming playboy who is dying and might need her to survive.But Charis carries a mark that could destroy them all—one that could reshape their world or burn it down.The wrong mateThe wrong name.The wrong Alphas.And if she chooses wrong again… it won’t just be her heart that breaks.

The whole world knows that she loves me, but only I know that I am a substitute!

When Jiang Liuyi was twenty-six years old, she caught up with the fashion and got married randomly.
The flash marriage partner was a woman of her age, with a good personality and a good temper.
What my friends envy the most is being obedient to her,
Even knowing that she was a random substitute because he broke up with his ex-girlfriend,
There is no complaint or regret to stay by her side, and it is as sweet as it is.

Jiang Liuyi was very useful.

Later, her ex-girlfriend returned to China, and the two needed to meet for business reasons.
A friend teased her about kneeling on the washboard when she got home. She was stunned for a while before she realized,

Her wife never asked about her ex-girlfriend.

In a word: You have the white moonlight, but I have the cinnabar mole.

Content tags: Marriage and love Slapping face Sweet text Cool text
Search keywords: Protagonist: Jiang Liuyi, Song Xian ┃ Supporting role: ┃ Others:
One sentence introduction: You have white moonlight, I have cinnabar mole
Conception: Deep love is not as good as long-term companionship.

- Description from novelbuddy

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.”