MTL - Crossing the Crowd to Chase Love - Chapter 65

A young man sat on a chair and looked out at the ocean. With one wisp of Spirit Qi, he could point anywhere on this vast and expansive world, pointing at any place that didn’t look right.

Someone once became the last one to wield a knife that could decapitate huge dragons and bathed in dragons’ blood. Someone once loved treating others to chicken soup, so he kept nine phoenixes in his backyard.

Someone once sat lazily on the top of mountains as his words flooded river banks, and his qi could hold a million soldiers back. Someone once moved mountains and shifted hills with just one brush, his paintings so captivating it could enchant immortals and deities.

That year, the warmth of spring made the flowers bloom. They were merely an ordinary butcher, a bookworm, a chicken farmer and a poor artist. This is the story of how a Low Level Martial World Continent was transformed into the Ultimate Fantasy Universe.

- Description from Qidian

Wendy Waltz, a diehard anti romantic! Though born as royalty, she had been neglected by her father and bullied by her stepmother and younger sibling. To make this worse, she had been betrayed by her lover. She throws away her royalty and name and starts anew with a new name and a strange power! But who is this Head of the Imperial Guards, Lard Shroder, who keeps appearing beside her?

Yu Fei was sabotaged by her peers at a celebratory gala. They pushed her into a hotel room, but it turned out to be the wrong one! The four men who were hired ended up waiting for nothing the entire night. Meanwhile, Yu Fei found herself crossing paths with the noblest and most dangerous man in Nan City!

Ever since then, the cold Mr. Feng began pampering his wife endlessly. She liked making movies, and so he casually invested several hundred million. He’d let her become an internationally acclaimed director and celebrity if that’s what she wanted!

“I, Feng Yi, want to pamper this woman. Does anybody have a problem with that?” Mr. Feng asked.

One day, a reporter asked him this question. “Mr. Feng, what do you do when you get home each day?”

“I spend time with my wife,” he answered.

“Are you showing your affection for her?” The audience thought out loud.

“Mr. Feng, what’s your hobby?” The reporter asked.

“Spending time with my wife,” he answered.

“That’s impossible… Absolutely impossible!” The audience exclaimed.

“Mr. Feng, what is most important to you?” The reporter asked.

“Spending time with my wife,” he answered.

“Do you think you’re the only person with a wife?” The audience asked.

The bigshot, who was rumored to be a cold and merciless man, actually loved his wife to pieces. His greatest hobby was to pamper his wife in every way imaginable!

Dear readers! Fresh green style, maybe you will like it more in .

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.”